Always & Forever
by XoMissManhattanXo
Summary: Emily's past & future collide in her present, allowing everything she ever knew to come crumbling down. Can Emily deal with the consequences of having been Lauren? Is she still her? Reality meets alter-ego for SSA Prentiss and that's when it all goes up in flames. "If I love you always, will you love me forever?" (Season 14 Team plus OC main character) Timeline: PRE Season 15!
1. Let Adventures Come To You

Hi, BabyGirls!

This is my first fic about Criminal Minds.  
Love the show, love the characters (and I may or may not have a profound obsession with criminology)!

I have a very intricate idea in my mind and I'll be giving subtle bits of info, one at a time. If something sounds vague/odd, there is a reason for it and it will be explained later on. Mystery plays a **MAJOR** role in my story!

Quite the bunch of initial chapters are two storylines, intertwined – contemporary parallels between the FBI Academy and the BAU. It builds my back-story and helps me mix them all together in future chapters.

Features the Season 14 team members, plus an OC main character.

Give it a chance!  
Hope you like it!

I reply to every message and I appreciate every review.

I'm a very nice and bubbly girl. If you ever want to chat, inbox me! Please be nice, though. I write for fun. I know I'm not a genius. English is not even my native language. Writing is just a hobby and I've decided to share it with all of you, so please, I beg you to be nice (I accept educated constructive criticism, but keep in mind that rude, unfunded remarks are hurtful and upsetting).

(Story is told using fragmented narrative)

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

_**LET ADVENTURES COME TO YOU**_

_"FBI! Drop the gun!"_

A tender, silvery, feminine voice shouted out loud in the darkness.

"Danny?" Footsteps could be heard, someone knocked over a vase on their way to their desired destination.

"Danielle?" The second voice nagged, patting someone's shoulder.

"Danny, Jesus, you scared the crap out of me! Is everything okay?"

"Hmm?" Danielle finally responded, slowly resuming a sitting position and rubbing her eyes lazily.

"You had that nightmare again." The second voice said sleepily. It was much more modulated and almost sounded honeyed.

A little night light went on, revealing two profiles: one of a blonde girl with beautiful curly hair and the other one of a brunette with, what seemed like, piercing green eyes and long straight hair, strands of which were stuck to her sweaty forehead.

The blonde was one her knees, next to the brunette's bed.

"I'm fine." The brunette said grumpily. "And it was not a nightmare."

"Well, you were howling like a wild coyote in your sleep. Again." The blonde threw her hands in the air in a quite dramatic way. "If that was not a nightmare, then what was it?"

"A dream…" The brunette used the shade in the room to her advantage, grinning into the darkness while whispering her reply, almost inaudibly.

"Huh?" The blonde girl, now sitting on the edge of the bed, had a confused expression on her face as she did not hear anything other than a mumble.

"Maggie, it's really sweet of you to wake me up and ask me how I am. And now, since we are both awake…" One hand reached out to the nearby chair, pulling a pair of jeans and a tank top towards her. "…How about one last adventure?"

"Danny, It's 2 o'clock at night!" Maggie rolled her eyes, yet, with no sign of disbelief. Danny had the balls to do whatever she pleased, whenever she pleased, and Maggie knew that painfully well.

The boys around them had initially assumed that Maggie would be the ballsy one, fitting into that blonde bombshell stereotype with a YOLO approach to life. However, it had always been Danny who'd push things and stir the pot, while Maggie had simply followed her into countless mischiefs for the past three months.

"Exactly!" Danny smirked again, this time not even trying to hide in the shadows. "We have the whole night ahead of us. The _last_ night! Come on. We have to go out with a bang!"

"Ugh. I'm going to regret this…" Maggie rolled her eyes while crawling back to her own bed, two beds away. She had piled her clothes from yesterday on top of the night stand beside it.

They were in a shared girls' bedroom with three other girls. It had not been perfect, but it had been fun. Three months had gone by so quickly.

Giggling and making shush noises to each other, they managed to dress in the dark and to hop out of the window, as they had done numerous times before.

Soon they found themselves by the calm and perfectly transparent lake. It was beautiful, deep, dark, quiet, mysterious - just like Danielle. Maggie was the one who would always tell stories about her life, while Danielle kept to herself. Mostly. Unless she had to defend herself or someone else, in which case she was quite straight forward with her words. However, she hated telling people anything about herself, her life, her family, her other friends and she never even told them her birthday.

"What do you have in mind?" Maggie asked, throwing a petite pebble in the water and barely managing to see the tiny splash it had created.

"Nothing." Danielle smiled innocently. "If you search for adventures, you will never find them. You have to let adventures come to you."

She inhaled deeply, letting the frisky air invade her lungs. Her eyes shut closed and she smiled.

"Okay, _Miss Girliest Girl On Camp_!" Maggie nudged her friend and it made both of them laugh.

"Gosh, will you stop with that already? It was just a stupid camp ceremony. You know I don't like labels anyway." Danielle's cheeks were blushing slightly and once again, the darkness was in her favor, covering up her moment of shyness – one of the very few moments of that kind.

"But you don't seem to mind the _Most Likely To Succeed In Life_ label you got as well, do you?" Maggie said challengingly while putting her golden locks in a bun on top of her head.

"No, that label I actually do appreciate. But that was a given anyway." Danielle followed in her friend's footsteps, tying her own hair in a high pony tail. It was so long that it sometimes bothered her, and, at that moment, all she wanted to feel on her face was fresh air, not strands of sweaty hair. "By the way, you look banging hot with your hair up like that. I still can't believe I got the Girliest Girl award. That was clearly yours to grab!"

"How do you do it? How are you always so sure of yourself? You always seem to know what to say. I wish I was as confident as you are." Maggie shrugged, narrowing her eyes and scanning the ground for more pebbles to throw, as if to help release some tension. "Aww, thanks. You are literally the only girl at camp, or ever, actually, who gives other girls compliments. It's refreshing. I was sick of the cattiness and bullying that I've seen growing up. And by the way, you are most definitely the girliest one here. I mean, you have a cute hair accessory every single day, either a headband or a bow. Come on. I'm the blonde, but you're the Barbie!"

"You _are_ confident. You just don't know it yet." Danielle pushed a couple of pebbles towards Maggie, making sure her friend would find them herself. It was so typical of her to do things, however little they might be, in order to help someone else in life. "Oh, I love my bows like you love your scrunchies!"

Both girls giggled and made sure that night was one to be remembered.

* * *

**_BAU Headquarters | Quantico, Virginia_**

"Now?" Emily Prentiss was on the phone and she seemed confused.

"I consider it to be the perfect timing, Agent Prentiss, given the fact that you are still on the premises and I have urgent matters to discuss with you." Meredith Fowler, the new and highly incompetent Section Chief, replied cockily on the other side of the line.

Emily rolled her eyes. "It's 2 o'clock at night, for God's sake!"

"And again – you are still in your office, hence I can talk to you if I want to. And I do." The other woman cleared her throat and Emily was half-hoping she'd choke. "My office in 5 minutes."

With that, the line went dead.

"Oh, this is going to suck!" Emily muttered to herself. She shot a glance at the bullpen – all dark, empty, it seemed almost…mysterious, without her team around.

She forced herself to take the elevator to a higher floor, where someone with a higher position than her was just dying to yell at her and to remind her of the painful existence of hierarchy at the Bureau.

"At your services." Emily said sarcastically, walking in and taking a seat across the table before she would even be invited to do so. By the look she saw on Fowler's face, this was not going to end neither well, nor quickly. So, the least she could do to facilitate this Hell was to make herself comfortable.

"I do not appreciate the irony, Agent Prentiss." Fowler put her reading glasses on as she spoke. "And may I remind you that you are talking to a Senior here?"

"That's Supervisory Special Agent Prentiss…" Emily was usually not one to prance her title around, but it bothered her when people belittled her intentionally. "Uhm, Ma'am." She added lamely when a scolding cold look was shot at her direction.

"I should start by saying that I take no pleasure in breaking this news to you…" The elder woman kept on adjusting her reading glasses and to Emily that screamed insecurity.

"I'm sure you don't." She muttered to herself, trying really hard not to be a bitch. She has had it rough lately and her tolerance to bullshit was quite low. Practically non-existent. Borderline, she had none.

"Now, I am sure you are aware of the Bureau's need to cut down some costs." Fowler pulled out a few folders and let them hit the desk with quite the thud, as if that would give her any kind of authority.

"The budget cuts? Yes. The Academy is getting less recruits this year and less people would be offered jobs after that. We've all heard about it." Emily said calmly.

There had been chatter around the hallways and many agents were bothered by the fact that the Academy had a huge chunk of investments cut off for its next round. A lot of agents were involved in the training process - not just the main staff, but many active agents, or even retired ones, popped by occasionally to offer training support and to give lectures and advice to the new recruits. It was something they all did with pleasure, because, at the end of the day, their contribution allowed for the forming of new government personnel, so in a way they were all a part of something big.

"Yes, precisely. Now, please spare me your undoubtedly sarcastic opinion about it. I already know you are against the financial cuts and I know how much you enjoy your paid guest lectures with the trainees." Fowler touched her glasses once again and Emily could swear that she would stand up and smash them against the floor if the woman didn't stop with that annoying, repetitive gesture. It was distracting, and quite frankly, Emily was pissed way before she was even called in for that conversation.

"Wasn't going to voice my unwanted opinion, Ma'am. I see that you already know where I stand when it comes to the budget cut. However, I do understand your decision." All of what Emily said was legit, except from her last sentence. That was complete nonsense. She neither understood, nor supported it. But, overtime, she had learned when to kiss a superior's ass while biting her tongue.

"Great. This makes it easier for me to break the news that the BAU, along with a few other units, has been chosen to enter the budget cut this year." There it was – rough, quick, uncalled for. The truth. Just like ripping off a band aid - it sucked.

Emily stood still. Was it the fact that every organ inside her body was already sleeping or was it the fact that Fowler was talking in gibberish, but Emily did not seem to comprehend what she had just been hit with.

"Ok, that went well." Fowler did not stand a chance at being a profiler if _that_ was her understanding of Emily's silence. "I will e-mail you all these papers. The cut is effective immediately. You have until the end of the week to present your official written proposal and as of Monday morning we expect your team to function with 45% less funding. You can leave now."

It was then and there when it hit her – this was Hell.

Emily had two options. One – firing the gun that was holstered on her side since 5 o'clock the previous morning, or two – arguing her case. She chose none of those options. She simply stood up and walked out of the office. If it had been Fowlers' own decision, she would have fought. But she had caught a glimpse of the signature on the paper that she had been just showed very briefly and she knew who it belonged to. Not even Fowler could argue the case with the man who gave those orders, so Emily, no matter how tired, decided smartly to just shut up and deal with it somehow.

The next hour was a blur. All she could remember from that night was that she had somehow found her way back to her office and she had finished about a quarter of the pile of paperwork that she had due and then, the next thing she remembered was shedding a lonely tear in her own bed, surrounded once again by darkness and not a single soul by her side. There was no recollection of how she had gotten back to her house either but given the fact that she found her car parked in the driveway the next morning, she was willing to bet that she had driven back home in between anger fits and screams of despair.

Emily Prentiss would be damned if she let another bitch walk all over her!


	2. Let's Do This Together

**CHAPTER 2**

_**LET'S DO THIS TOGETHER**_

_"__Emily?"_ Someone said in the dark.

_"__Emily, are you okay?"_ She knew that voice.

Emily's head moved slowly against the pillow before she could notice that her phone was not even switched on. Where did that voice come from then?

_"__Emily, do you need a doctor?"_

"What the Hell…" Emily said grumpily, looking around the room to find the source of her inconvenience.

_"__Your computer!"_ An indication came and as soon as Emily's eyes laid on the screen and managed to focus on it, she sighed.

"JJ, I swear to God, I will…" That was one of Emily's most iconic lines. One that she used right before she would hurt someone. Or attempt to do so anyway.

"Ah! PG 13 for your favorite P.G., please?" Garcia popped on the screen.

"I feel like I'm starring in a movie and God knows how many of you are watching it. Or why, even?" Emily was clearly not in a good mood.

"It's just us two." JJ made a facial expression, as if to prevent someone else from speaking.

"Actually, it would be more correct to say that it was just _the two of you_…whoops." A high-pitched male's voice came from behind the other computer.

"Hello, Reid." Emily greeted, because she literally had no idea what else to say.

"Ems, I'm sorry. They made me do it. _She_ did!" Garcia pointed a finger at JJ. "I was forced to hack your computer camera. You see, your phone is off, and we've been trying to call you all morning and we all got worried and JJ, you know how she is, so incredibly stubborn, even more than you, so she…you know, she made me hack you so we can see if you were doing okay." Garcia said in her typical frantic voice.

"Well, I'm glad I wasn't doing something else then." Emily rolled her eyes, pulling on the blankets and imagining another scenario in her head. That would have been awkward. Point taken – never again falling asleep with her computer facing her bed. Or the bathroom. Or the kitchen counter.

…Or the cute little Persian rug right in front of the fake fireplace where she liked to light candles and pretend like she was in a mountain resort while sipping champagne and munching on the last piece of that pizza she got delivered since her attempts to cook usually ended up in a disaster.

"Eww, Prentiss. Definitely not PG 13!" JJ laughed.

"Why were you guys worried? My phone battery must have died last night. I would have returned your calls as soon as I woke up and had my breakfast while charging it a bit. Relax." Emily realized that she was, for once, sleeping fully clothed, so she popped out of bed without the possibility of flashing anyone. Although JJ and Garcia had seen a lot of Emily, back in the changing rooms. But, poor Reid.

"Uhm…" Garcia pursed her lips and clutched on to her unicorn-shaped tea cup.

"It's 3 pm, Emily." JJ broke the news and sent an apologetic smile for that.

"Oh…" There was no way. Emily shot a glance at the wall clock opposite her bed and yes, it showed 3:05. "Crap! Sorry, guys. I don't know what happ…I uh…I'll be there in an hour." Emily shut her computer down, in hopes of not finding the camera on once again when she would hop out of the shower a few minutes later.

When the clock struck 4:02, Emily walked out of the elevator and hurried through the bullpen.

"I'm really sorry." She mumbled while doing some of her "morning" chores around the open space.

"Shall we take a quick de-tour to the changing room?" JJ whisked Emily away almost immediately, before anyone else would notice.

"Do we have a case? Why are you making me change?" Emily protested when she saw JJ hand her another pair of shoes.

"Miss-match is so last year." JJ said sweetly, trying not to offend her superior.

Emily looked down at her feet. The left one was comfortably enwrapped with a black office-style shoe, while the right one was a little funkier, in its coat of Nike runners, in the color of light blue.

"Look, you have had a lot on your plate lately. If you need to take some time off, we understand. We could all use a vacation right now." JJ suggested, personally kneeling down and tying Emily's new pair of shoes on her feet.

Vacation? Emily had no desire, nor money, for that. She still had to break the news to the team.

"Don't worry about me." She rubbed her eyes and that was when JJ noticed the redness and the puffiness of the skin underneath them. Had she cried? Or had she simply not slept for the past couple of weeks? Or both? That case they recently had was affecting Emily and everyone could notice it. Everyone, but her.

"Could you, please, gather everyone in the meeting room? In half an hour. There is something I need to read first. Thank you." With those words Emily excused herself and went to her office, closing the door behind her, which was something she never really did, unless she was working on something confidential.

It took her exactly 25 minutes to read the e-mail attachments that Fowler had sent her the night before, which gave her an extra total of 5 minutes for a bathroom break. She really needed to splash some cold water on her face, but mostly, she needed to get rid of the feeling of being about to pee on herself from all the nerves.

"Hey guys." She walked in the room where everyone was gathered around the table, quietly waiting for her to speak.

"Bad news for the team. I'm sorry, but there is nothing I can do about this." Emily bit her lip and Rossi caught on that. He knew she always did that when she was nervous and needed to calm herself down. Or when she was flirting, which was clearly not the case at that very moment.

"Prentiss, whatever it is, we are a team and we stand together." He said reassuringly and it helped her tremendously. Rossi had always had this cool and collected aura around him and Emily looked up to him in more ways than she could count.

"As of today, our team enters the Bureau program for budget cuts. We need to come up with a written proposal on how to meet their criterias, by the end of the week." She didn't like to sugarcoat things, so she just said it like it was.

"But, didn't they already lower our budget a few years ago, when Hotch was still here?" Rossi raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, by 10%. And that was only temporary. We got a new sponsorship afterwards, remember?" Emily replied, pacing between the two chairs that were being occupied by Reid and JJ.

"Could you, please, maybe sit down? Your pacing is giving me anxiety and study shows that-…" Reid started off, but before he could continue, he felt JJ's hand on his knee, as if to tell him to shut up.

Emily did sit down after that. On top of the table, that is, since chairs did not seem to exist for her. The team would always find her hanging from somewhere, like a monkey – the edge of a table, a staircase, a suitcase, anything but a chair.

"The orders came straight from the source of our financing. We can try and argue, but it won't do us any good." Emily shrugged and looked at Garcia who was sitting on the opposite side of the table.

"Well, we can always offer the same plan as last time. I have it on file somewhere. What was it? Less additional travel expenses; we clean our own guns instead of having them sent to the gun support unit; we drink less coffee, we save the whales. Wohoo, we are 10% down again. We've done it before, we can do it again!" Garcia said triumphantly.

"Yes, but we are talking 45% now." Emily's words echoed in the room and left everyone speechless.

A few minutes later, since nobody had dared to make a suggestion, she continued.

"I've been thinking about it all night and the only big cut that I could think of was something that a lot of you guys are going to be against." Emily bit her lip again and, at that rate, if she bit any harder, blood would start streaking on her blouse.

"Not the jet!" Alvez muttered quietly. He liked motors, jets, planes, pretty much anything that moved.

"No, not the jet. We need that. However, we are going to cut majorly on the additional travel expenses, as Garcia suggested. From now on, anything we need, we swipe our personal credit card. If we don't want to do that, we don't really need to buy the thing. Is everyone with me on this one?" She was the boss, of course everyone nodded.

"Good. That gives us nearly 5%, like last time. Now, the big chunk…" She sighed. "The BAU is not going to accept any internship bids this year."

"What? No!" Rossi, as Emily had suspected, was vocal about his disapproval. "Emily, no! We can't do that. We always welcome an intern from the Academy, it is our tradition since the day I started the BAU. We love teaching the young ones what we know. You said it yourself last year, it is a pleasure having a freshly off the Academy kid spice things up around here and the guy from last year learned so much from all of us. He is now two floors down, in counter terrorism, and he's doing spectacularly well and loving it."

"I know. Trust me, I would not deny anyone the chance to work with us if they want to, but given the circumstances, we are kind of forced to skip on this year's internship program. Unless we would all like to sacrifice a chunk of our salary, in order to welcome a trainee." To those words of hers, nobody dared reply.

"I know that you guys are disappointed in my decision and I get it. I am not ecstatic about it either. But put yourselves in my shoes." Emily delivered a piece of paper to everyone when she stood up. "Read up and I am expecting further suggestions by the end of this week. Not even this cut could meet the 45% request."

Emily left the team with this fresh new information while she, once again, retreated to her office and tried to re-focus her attention on this new problem at hand. For the past two weeks she had been blaming herself and wondering what she could have done differently, so the outcome of a certain case they had, would have been different. The team kept on telling her to stop putting the blame on herself, but she never listened. Suddenly, she had a new problem to worry about.

* * *

_**PSSC - Philadelphia Summer Sports Camp | Pennsylvania**_

"I'll miss you." Maggie waved at Danielle as she got in her car.

"I'll miss _us_." Danny replied with a smile.

"Have fun back at college. And thanks for making this camp so freaking fabulous and fun with all your crazy stunts." Maggie blew a kiss in the air and Danny pretended to catch it with her hands before she drove away.

That was the end of three months of intensive work outs, fun, laughter and silliness. It was also the end of Danielle Letcher. It was now time for a new beginning, one that she had been waiting for, so impatiently.

The GPS in her car said she had 3 hours and 25 minutes left until she would reach her final destination. With a cheeky grin she sped up, wanting to get there even faster.

Three hours and six minutes later, she went through a huge gate and a bunch of security checks.

"Name and unit?" The security guard asked in serious tone before he would let her drive inside the premises.

Oh, she had been waiting for the moment to pronounce those words.

"Angela Hunter, FBI Academy." It felt good. All those times she had dreamt of that moment, and there it was. It felt damn good.

She was granted access after the guard verified her credentials and gave her directions where to go. Finally, she parked her car in front of what was going to become her home for the next 21 weeks.

She got off the car and felt every bone in her body becoming overwhelmed with joy. This was what she had been waiting for.

Walking inside the building felt like walking on clouds. She already had a cool girl appearance, but the pep in her step as she strut down the hallways added an extra touch of sassy to her persona.

The air there was something else. She had never felt her nostrils so full of the sweet smell of a cocktail of things that she liked. She felt like a kid in a pastry shop, early in the morning, when all the baked goods were warm and still fresh out of the oven.

She was on point for her call time, the clock hit 3 pm and a loud siren suddenly deafened everyone in the building.

_"__Attention, please! Everyone report to the gym, immediately!"_ Some guy's voice was heard on the radio-speaker and she saw how people stopped in place while listening, before a complete chaos took over and people started running and asking for directions to the gym. It felt like the imaginary pastry shop she had been so happy to enter, had now turned into a jungle, a hot mess.

Without fussing about it, she walked to the gym, already knowing where it was situated.

_"__Welcome everyone. You all come from different backgrounds, different parts of the country, but you have one thing in common – your desire to learn, practice, learn some more and then train until you drop. So, in order to fulfill your dreams and expectations right from the start, we welcome you to the brutal reality that this adventure really is. No, it is nothing like the movies you have seen, and no, you are not going to enjoy a second of it. Only the best of the best will survive until the end. This year we are doing things a bit differently. Are you ready for what would be your own personal Hell for the next 21 weeks? A Hell that, if you survive, is going to lead to one of the best adventures of your lives!" _The same man's voice was on loudspeaker, but nobody could figure out where it came from.

She looked around and tried to memorize a few faces. She had seen one of the guys park in the alley next to her, just minutes ago. One of the girls had a cool pair of jeans on and she made it a point to go ask where she got them from.

Suddenly, bundles of clothes were being thrown in every direction. She got her hands on one and, as she unwrapped it, she heard someone laugh from behind her.

"Well, hello there, Miss Cheerleader." It was the guy who had parked near her. "Are you lost? I don't think that cute little pink bow in your hair would go with, well…that." He pointed at the clothes that she had in her hands.

"On the contrary, I think it would accentuate them perfectly!" She said cockily, stripping down to her underwear and tossing her sparkly white dress aside.

A minute later she was sporting the new attire and she quite liked it. The bow was neatly on top of her head, with two strands of ribbon flowing down her perfectly combed hair. Her eye-shadow was the same shade of pink as the bow, while her nails were painted in pearly white, to compliment the dress that she had just tossed to the floor.

"Welcome to the FBI Academy at Quantico, Virginia!" The male on the loudspeaker announced once everyone had changed. "May the best of you finish this race and may the chosen ones serve with honor and hold the badge with pride!"

Two minutes ago, the gym had been full of colors, individuality, diversity. At that moment, everything was gone and all that was left was dozens of people in plain color uniforms – same trousers and same pale blue shirts for both men and women.

"Dang, khaki pants have never looked so good on anyone." The young guy said, checking her out.

"It's not the pants." She held her head up high. "It's the ass. I got a great one. I practically look good in anything. Or out of it. And now that this is out of the way, please move."

Her hand motioned for him to move to the left, so she could catch a glimpse of the podium where she finally spotted someone holding a microphone. Must have been the man who did all the announcements.

There was something about that girl that made him want to know more.

"In case you don't talk to strangers. I'm Bryan." He extended his hand, only to have it left dangling awkwardly between them as she took a step to the side, to get a better view of the stage.

"Uhm, sorry if I offended you. It's just that you look so…" He trailed off, not knowing how to put this nicely.

"Okay, so I have a bow in my hair, I came in a cute white dress, I smile a lot and I have amazing teeth. Not to mention, I'm nice and bubbly, quite cheerful, unless you rub me the wrong way, and also – I like ice cream. Like, a lot!" She pointed out random stuff that was probably a stereotype that he would have imagined her being like. "I look like a cheerleader and I'm slim and have very good skin. I actually do enjoy long walks on the beach and my favorite drink is probably a fruity cocktail you despise. So what? You think I'm not good enough to be here? Guess what? My recruiter likes to disagree. I am here and I'm going to stay here until the end, and even after. I'm the girl who is probably going to kick your ass in every event, other than pull-ups because, God knows, I suck at those. So, for you to point out that by being cute, I possibly am out of place here, is rude and uncalled for and quite frankly, I do not appreciate it. So now, Bryan, if you don't mind…shut up and let me pretend like I never met you. Thank you." She said calmly, with every next word she made him more and more ashamed of himself and unsure why he had even chosen to tease her. He never meant to offend her, it was just very odd that such a young-looking girly chick was standing there.

"Oh yeah? Are you _that_ girl?" He mirrored the smirk she had plastered on her face, refusing to move aside. Instead, he stood directly in front of her in the most out there way. "And I'm the guy who would make it impossible for you to keep up. You'll be sweating and swearing before I let you win a thing. You'll be begging for my mercy and I still won't let you have it your way, Missy." He was cocky, arrogant, but there was something pleasant about the timber of his voice. It almost felt soothing. For a second, she closed her eyes, imagining what his voice would sound like out there, on the field, if she ever needed someone to talk to her, give her moral support. And that was when she decided she wanted him on her team.

"Missy." She said shortly.

"That's what I just called you." Through the chatter by everyone around them, he felt confused.

"That's my name from now on. There. We're not strangers anymore." A dainty smile appeared on her face and she seemed much more relaxed now. She loved a man who could challenge her, push her into becoming the best, the strongest version of herself. And at that moment she needed such people around her.

"Your first day at the Academy starts right now. Get out there and get dirty!" The man with the microphone announced, pointing at the huge door that lead to the outside area.

"Let's do this!" Bryan cheered and he felt her hand tug on his own.

"Let's do this, _together_?" She suggested and he nodded in reply.

This was promising to be the start of a fun journey.


	3. Call Me Boss Again And You're Fired

**CHAPTER 3**

_**CALL ME 'BOSS' AGAIN AND YOU'RE FIRED**_

"Crap, crap, crap!" Bryan cringed while running. "You said this was going to be fun!"

"Oh, who's the whiny girl now, huh?" Angie came up from behind, pushing his lower back, as if to urge him to straighten his posture and keep running.

"I thought the first day there would be a huge, sappy speech about the amazing opportunities that the Bureau gives new trainees. And that sweet government salary, oh man!" Bryan took a moment to steady himself before he picked up the pace again.

"Didn't you hear? The training division's budget got cut. I guess they no longer have money, not even for a sappy speech." She laughed and kept looking behind her shoulder, making sure Bryan wasn't too far behind.

"Watch out!" He yelled, but it was too late. One of the times when Angie had looked back, she had failed to notice a small puddle of mud right in front of her, so now she was laying on top of it.

"Oops! Guess them pants ain't khaki no more, huh?" She laughed, grabbing the helping hand that he had extended to her and hopping back on her feet. Dirt dripped from her, the cute pink ribbon in her hair now looked like it had been chewed on and spit out by a pig and she smelled awfully similar to one, too.

"Hurdle!" She yelled at him warningly as they kept on running.

Their first task as Agent Trainees, or ATs, as they would be referred to from that point on, was to do an obstacle run which went through a forest that was within the government owned property barriers. Usually trainees would not do this before the third week of training, but as promised, this year everything would be quite different.

FBI agents with motorbikes were following the path where ATs were sweating and struggling with all kinds of obstacles. The agents yelled and urged them to go faster, do better, jump higher.

"Freaking Hell, I'm an athlete, but this right here is killing me." Bryan said, short out of breath, as soon as there was a moment where things seemed to move slower, which didn't happen until they reached the rope climbing obstacle. Slowing down the pace of the run and all the jumping, he could feel his heartbeat all the way down to the sole of his shoe, which by the way, had come undone and he was praying to God not to trip on it and make a fool out of himself by the end of the race.

"Come on, man. I thought you were going to make me sweat and swear and pray to be able to keep up with you." Angie was getting confident, but that only meant one thing: she was about to have a rude awakening.

Her knee twitched right when she was gripping the rope and trying to get higher, resulting in her dropping down a couple of meters. Considering that she had to climb up 5 meters of rope, that was half a fail already.

From beneath her she felt something that helped her steady herself, regain control over the rope and get a better grip before she continued on her way to the top. Quite literally.

An hour into the race and the finish line was right there, in front of them. The first half an hour had been Hell. Yes, everyone was expected to come to the Academy in tip-top shape and ready to go, but no, nobody actually spent their Summer getting ready for the hardest race of their lives. Nobody, except for one.

"How are you not dead by now?" Bryan asked breathlessly.

Angie cringed. Those were words she did not like hearing, even if they were meant as a joke.

"If you would only quit whining, you'd realize that you and I, my friend, are the first ones to cross that line." She pointed out and that made him turn around and notice the next couple of trainees were about 20 steps behind them.

"Go, you deserve this." He pointed towards the red line.

If he had to be honest with himself, all through the race she had slowed down and tried to help him out, even if only with words of encouragement. He could never take the first place away from her, not after all that.

"Remember what we promised each other?" There was something very cheeky about the way that girl grinned. Her whole face would light up and her mouth would go sideways a very tiny little bit, almost unnoticeable, while her eyes seemed full of life and joy.

She took a deep breath and, as Bryan slowed his pace, she grabbed his hand and practically dragged him through the finish line at the same time.

"We're doing this, _together_!" She stated, as if she wasn't already extraordinarily cool and as if she needed a banging powerful statement like this one to make her look even cooler in his eyes.

* * *

**_BAU Headquarters  
_**

As the day went on, Emily's chores only seemed to be piling up. During the day, as soon as she touched something and started to work on it, someone decided to call or to pop by the office or to give her additional crappy news. Sometimes it sucked being the Unit Chief, although she had never felt _this_ bad about her position before. It felt like she did not have enough time to do all the things she was supposed to do. And Emily Prentiss was a freak. A workaholic. A perfectionist.

"Hey, may I come in?" JJ knocked twice and her head appeared in the crack of the door.

"Sure, why not? It's not like I was about to do something productive anyway." Emily sighed. It was highly unlikely for her to reply to anyone in that manner, let alone to JJ, whom she adored.

It did not take Emily long to realize that she was being a bitch to the one person who had constantly been by her side, through literal Hell. "I'm sorry, JJ. Come in. Grab a coffee."

"Wow, uhm, how many coffees did you make?" JJ cringed as she walked by the table. The stench of caffeine was too much, even for a coffee lover like herself. On the desk, in front of Emily, there were four mugs, all full of pure black coffee. Emily never liked pure black coffee. She liked it sweetened, with milk, maybe add a little foam on top when she was feeling fancy. She only ever overdosed on black coffee when she had to.

"I try to eliminate all excuses that can get me out of this chair." She murmured in reply.

"I can see that." JJ sighed, her curious hands grabbing a tissue from the lunch bar where they had ordered their food from, four days ago. "Mind if I throw this away? And that? And this, too?" In her head, this was her way of urging Emily to clean up after herself.

"Seriously? This, coming from the person whose desk cannot be seen behind the wall of papers and who-knows-what?" She did have a point. Everyone knew that JJ was a bit messy at her work space.

"Yup, touché." JJ laughed, making Emily smile instantly. She just had that effect on her boss. Plus, JJ's laughter was contagious.

"But Em, you really need to take care of yourself. Please?" JJ saw how Emily pretended to be busy and ignored what was being said to her. It took her a second to lean over the table and to grab Emily's chin, forcing her face to look directly at her as she repeated slowly. "You need to take care of yourself, Emily Prentiss!"

This time it worked. Emily gulped and looked down, as if an inferior was shy to look her superior in the eyes. But roles-reversed.

"You are not eating well. You barely get any sleep. You missed out on half a day of work because you were so exhausted that you crashed last night and it took hacking your computer to find out if you were okay. Or if you were even alive!" As JJ added her last words, Emily winced. She hated it when people said those words, oh so much.

"I get your point, JJ. But I'm under strict deadlines and you know people have been on my ass since _that_ case. All we do is paper work now, unless you haven't noticed the lack of cases assigned to the BAU? Huh? We have none."

"Are we…" This time it was JJ who bit her lips. "…under investigation?"

"No! At least to my knowledge." Emily said confidently. "But we are under microscope and if I so much as sneeze at the wrong moment, the BAU is screwed. Everybody hates me right now and, unfortunately, that means that everybody hates all of you, guys, as well."

"Aww." JJ stood up and walked over to Emily, patting her shoulder, urging her to stand up too. "We're doing this, _together_! Do you hear me? None of us is ever going to leave your side. We are not afraid of the superiors hating us. Let them hate. We can show them that we are strong and that we'll always stand by your side, Boss!" JJ's pony tail swayed left and right as she spoke enthusiastically.

"You sound like any pep talk from a bad teen chick flick." Emily laughed, once again, because of JJ. "Also, call me _Boss_ again and you're fired!" She added with her hand swinging in the air threateningly, making JJ wonder for the hundredth time why was it that Emily hated being referred to as their boss.

It was not until the moment Emily felt JJ's hands wrap around her that she finally let herself relax. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Thanks, JJ. It is a miracle I even know you, guys. I'm lucky to have you all on my side." Now that Emily seemed more Emily-like, JJ decided to leave and let her get back to work.

While JJ joined Reid and Alvez at the bullpen, Emily actually gave some thought to what she had been told. Ever since that one specific case two weeks prior, she had knocked herself down and she was of no good use anymore. She did, indeed, lack sleep and good nutrition, plus, she needed to take care of her mental health before she could call herself a Unit Chief again and believe her own words.

"JJ, do you want to play chess with me?" Reid was bored out of his mind. He had read five books in five different languages, and he had solved about a dozen cryptograms, all of that after lunch.

"Reid, we should be worried about our next move with the superiors, not on the chess board." Worry oozed out of JJ's voice.

As soon as she spoke, the sound of a door opening made her divert her attention to the upper floor area, where Emily's office was. A miracle was happening - Emily was leaving the premises during office hours. JJ smiled a little bit, wondering if it had been her words to make Emily even move a muscle for anything other than the papers on her desk.

Without a word, Emily disappeared behind the elevator doors. Her original plan had been to go take a walk and to cool off a bit. However, noises and yelling caught her attention. She neared the other side of the campus, where the FBI Academy was situated, and she realized that it was the first day of Academy when she saw a huge number of trainees running in their AT uniforms.

The next thing she saw was a girl, covered in mud, dragging a guy through the finish line.

"Oh, God!" Emily exclaimed loudly.

It wasn't every day that a trainee intentionally helped someone else succeed. This must be quite an extraordinary girl then.


	4. Happy Birthday To Me

**CHAPTER 4**

_**HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME**_

"Sorry I grabbed your ass earlier." Bryan apologized, as soon as the high from the race had worn off and they were all chilling on the ground, covered in mud, waiting for their breathing to go back to normal.

He had literally had no other choice. This had happened during the rope climbing obstacle when Angie was about to fall on top of him, hadn't he steadied her and helped her start climbing again. Plus, he wouldn't have let her fall. It was just a bit weird that his reflexes were to hold her butt, but that was the first thing he saw in the air.

"If my ass is falling, I'm always glad to have support. Even if it means _you_ grabbing it." She chuckled, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. "Oh, and one more thing. I'm not going to have sex with you. So, if that's your intention, you can walk away now. Please?"

He was caught off guard. "Don't get me wrong. You are attractive as Hell, but those were not my intentions."

"Ouch!" She pouted, fixing her hair in a very dramatic way. When she saw him nearly panic, thinking he had offended her, she laughed. "Got you!"

"You sneaky little…" He did not end that statement.

The same male voice from before was heard on the loudspeaker again. He announced the first five to have finished the race and he informed everyone that this was only a test run. This year they had decided to give them a rough start at the Academy, only to have them repeat the race in a few weeks, after specific FBI training, and then allow them to compare their results.

It was now time for everyone to go check into their rooms and meet their new roommates. Each trainee got a folder with important information and their AT cards, with limited access to the FBI buildings. Angie wore hers with pride.

"Hallway A, East wing, room 101." She read out loud while navigating through the building.

"Okay, here it is. Home, sweet home!" She opened the door with a smile that quickly faded away.

"Eww, you look gross." Her new roommate stated, as soon as Angie walked in.

That girl had somehow managed to beat Angie to the room, clearly choosing her bed first.

"Thanks. That's the price of being on top." Angie smirked. "You look dapper yourself. What were you, fifth?"

"Fourth." The other girl corrected her in annoyance. It was true, Angie had worked her butt off to finish first, while her roommate looked drastically more clean, yet, she only came fourth. Which was not too bad, anyway. But still, she wasn't first.

"So, you're the girl with the bow in her hair." The roommate stated, as if to annoy Angie.

"Yup, a bow and a ribbon dangling down, both pink. You'll see them in their perfect glory, back up in my hair, as soon as I wash them off." Her response was calm and nice.

"Ugh, great. I got Barbie as a roommate." Some eye rolling was happening.

"Ugh, great. I got a bitch as a roommate." Angie imitated, still calm and collected.

It was obvious she wasn't going to tolerate any bullshit, from anyone.

"Now that we've both insulted each other…" Angie continued. "Do you wanna be friends?"

Her enthusiasm was kind of cute. She seemed quite innocent, after all. Maybe it was the bow.

"No. I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to win." The girl replied without even looking at Angie any more.

"Win what? A whole bunch of us are getting hired after this, so if you think about it, yes, we are competition, but we are not competing for the same spot. Plus, I bet you're not even interested in the division where I'm going to end up at. So, it is really just your bad attitude keeping us from being friends." Angie put her gym bag on the floor. After the race she had grabbed it from her car and it was now all dirty from where it had touched her muddy clothes as she carried it. Plus, her whole trainee uniform was covered in mud. Good thing she found a spare uniform, folded and waiting for her on her bed.

She did not receive a reply, so she headed to the shower instead, realizing she didn't even know the girl's name.

Half an hour later she was a new person, quite literally. Her hair was now clean, she changed into a nice pair of shorts, complimented by a blue top with frills on the shoulder area. As soon as her hair was dry, she put a nice new bow in it, light blue, with white lining on the side. A touch of light make-up and she was ready to go.

"So, do you want to come out and party with us or do you prefer to stay here and be a bitch to the walls you'll be surrounded by?" Angie offered.

"Us? You have no friends. Who are you going to party with? That's lame." The girl sat comfortably on her bed and pretended to be reading a piece of paper that Angie assumed she had found in the folder from earlier.

Angie dialed a number and got an instant response.

"Yo, how did you even get my number?" Bryan said, as soon as he picked up.

"Easy. You went to get water and I inserted my number in your book, after that I called myself and voilà!" Angie was already grabbing a few items and putting them in a small evening bag. "Oh, and I saw your passcode when you unblocked your phone earlier. Now, are we going to party?"

"Impressive." Bryan then muttered something to his new roommate Jack and then confirmed that they were both interested in a night out.

"So, Girl, I even scored you a possible hot date. You in or what?" Angie smiled insistently.

"My name is not Girl." Oh, someone sounded offended.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but I never managed to catch your name, so I'm going to call you Girl from now on. I'm Angie. Call me whatever you want, but please, be consistent with it. If you want to call me Ugly, call me that and only that, otherwise I might not reply or even realize you are addressing your next rude statement to me. That would be a failed opportunity to diss me and that would suck for you." She grinned. "I don't see you getting ready, Girl!"

"It's Amanda." She said, already hopping out of the bed. Ten minutes later she was dressed up and ready to go.

Soon they were in a cab, smartly choosing not to take one of their own cars to a night out. It would suck if they got a DYI on their first day of FBI training.

The plan was to hit a couple of bars and then maybe go dancing. None of them was familiar with the city, so everything would be new and exciting to them. Their taxi driver later told them the names of a couple of bars where fellow FBI agents liked to hang out at. He had been a taxi driver all his life and he had taken hundreds of agents from the FBI premises to those bars uptown.

"I like the sound of Devil Child. Let's go to that one!" Angie smirked. "Oh, this is going to be one Hell of a nigh!"

The driver left them there and Bryan paid the whole thing, which Angie considered to be a nice gesture. He was, indeed, with two girls on a night out. But it was when he offered the first round of drinks when she got suspicious.

"I can pay my own drink." She said defensively.

"It's okay, first round is on me." Bryan smiled as he made his way through the crowd to where they had been indicated to go find a free table.

"No. I pay my own stuff. I never get offered. By anyone." She said firmly.

Angie hated it when people expressed a wish to buy her stuff. She felt like they thought she wasn't good enough to pay for her own things.

Right when their drinks arrived at the tiny table that they had found, near the toilets, moreover, they started noticing how groups of people were walking in. Most of them had their own table of choice reserved, even if the website of the bar said that no reservations were being made - Angie had checked it on the way there, from the taxi. Bullshit. Those were clearly some fellow FBI agents who were regulars at that place and who would always have a table reserved for them. Angie would be one of those, someday, hopefully.

"Here you go, SSA Prentiss." A well-behaved elderly man personally showed one of the groups of agents to their table. "Enjoy your evening, everyone. Sides are on the house."

"Thank you, Mr. DeVille. Very kind of you, as always." Emily smiled and sat on her favorite chair, facing the door of the bar.

Angie was not too far from their table and, given that it was still early in the evening and there was not much noise and music around them, she could hear what they were saying.

_"__DeVille?" _Angie thought to herself_. "Devil Child. DeVille? He must be the owner. He looks like a bar owner. His shoes are shiny."_

"Angie?" Bryan tried to catch her attention. "We're going to dance. Are you with us or what?"

As soon as she heard the word _dance_, she was practically on her feet already.

The music was a little weird. It was something that she would expect the elder agents to enjoy, but she could not complain. She liked all sorts of music.

The four trainees held their cocktail glasses in one hand while with the other one they pretended to be dancing shyly. Nobody was dancing, like, _giving it all_ kind of dancing. It kind of sucked.

"Come on, everyone! It's the first day of FBI Academy! LOOSEN UP A LITTLE!" Angie urged them and as soon as her new friends turned around to see where she had disappeared off to in just two seconds, they found her on top of the bar, gulping the last bit of her drink quickly and handing the glass to the bartender, so she could move freely.

Another one of the bartenders, the youngest one, who had somewhat good taste in music, followed her lead and did something very unusual for that bar - he closed the Rock'n'Roll playlist that had been on repeat since the bar had opened doors years ago, and he put on something more…well, fun.

"Oh, I love Daddy Yankee!" Angie said to herself and started dancing to one of the most hated and commercial Reggaeton songs of all times.

For the first half of the song everyone just stared at her, shaking their heads lightly, wondering exactly how drunk she must have been to be acting like that. But the more people looked at her, having fun, the more they started to loosen up and shake a little more. By the end of the song everyone who claimed to hate it, was now singing along and basically grinding on someone that they weren't sure they had ever met before.

The playlist continued with some more reggaeton, then some r'n'b, some 90's slow jams, some hip hop.

Emily had been forcefully dragged to the bar by JJ and Garcia, who had created a special Girls chat, along with Tara, where they spent every second of the day trying to figure out ways to help Emily out, not so much with the budget situation, but with what was going on inside of her. She had not been herself lately and it wasn't only hurting _her_ directly, but everyone else around her, as well.

That first song had been a great start, but JJ noticed that Emily got even more sad when she saw the wild dancing scene unraveling in front of them. The second song had been fun and, also, one of Emily's favorite Summer tracks, but it hadn't helped her get up and dance, which was what everyone was doing by the time the third song came up.

Even Rossi got up and started singing along with some song he had heard one of his 90's wives listen to on the radio. Reid had been forced to stand up by Alvez and Simmons, the BAU hulks. They refused to go have their fun without making Reid part of it, against his own will.

Tara was now grinding against Garcia and probably drunk enough to think that there was a cute guy behind her, instead. She was never one to hold her liqueur.

So, that left JJ and Emily, still sitting awkwardly at the table.

"Come on, Ems. You heard the girl. Loosen up a little. Le'ss go git it on, gurl!" JJ tried to sound tough, but as usual, she failed.

"JJ, please don't embarrass yourself." The ice wall around Emily finally melted and she broke into laughter, watching JJ struggle with her hand gestures, trying to imitate a rapper whose name she did not even know, but she had seen his current song on TV and she liked the music video, minus all the naked butts.

"Please?" JJ had the cutest puppy eyes Emily had ever seen. There was just no denying JJ anything.

Soon Emily was on the dance floor, no inhibitions, just pure Emily Prentiss, exactly the way her team liked her. But not before another round of shots - _liquid courage_, as she liked to call it.

"Yas, girl! Get it!" JJ yelled, the moment she saw a random guy approach Emily and ask for a dance. And his way of asking was basically him getting in between Emily and Tara as they danced and slowly eliminating Tara from the picture while cornering Emily to the side of the bar.

"JJ, I swear to God-…" Emily started with her famous line once again.

"Yeah. Yeah." JJ waved her hand dismissively, knowing that Emily enjoyed the guy's attention and probably even took pride in what JJ had yelled at her.

"You are a miracle, Jareau!" Matt came by her and kept on dancing, leaving Garcia with Alvez and Reid, while Tara was on the lookout for a new dance partner somewhere near them.

"I know, right?" JJ made an impression of a bubble head girl as she said those words.

Lately, she had been all about humiliating herself in public and making the weirdest impressions of people or stereotypes. Everyone noticed that change in her. What nobody noticed was that she did it all for Emily, in hopes of maybe making her laugh once again, if she made a fool of herself. It hadn't worked. Until that night.

"Careful not to break anything, ol' man!" Alvez teased Rossi when he saw him get wild on the dance floor.

"I'll show you _old man_!" David laughed. "Back in the days I was the most athletic dude around the block. I went to all the parties and danced all night long."

"That's where he met the ladies." Tara barged into the conversation and wished she had known him all those years ago. Partying with a young David Rossi would surely have been fun.

"…And then you do the wave." Garcia, who was right behind Rossi, was showing some moves to Reid. "Uh-huh. Like that. But with feeling. You gotta feeeeeeel it. Like a wave. Like a tsunami of magical 1's and 0's hitting your screen until there is nothing else left to do but to give in and just flow with it. Uh-huh. Just like that. Come on, try it!"

Reid was barely moving anyway, but her words made him stop and stare at her for a second.

"And they say _I'm_ weird." With that, he excused himself and pretended to not be disgusted by public toilets, as he made his way to the rest-room. It was only an excuse. There was no chance he would be seen doing the wave, or the bounce or whatever that other thing was that the girls always talked about.

"TWERK! Twerk! Twerk! Yeaaaah!" JJ and Tara cheered for some random girl whom neither of them knew. When the girl turned around, they realized it was the firecracker who had started the party by being loud and weird, up on the bar. In reality, her moves had nothing to do with the actual twerk dance move, but it helped people's mood to just shout that word out to her. She was dancing in a way that most would not find offending at all.

"I can't watch this!" Emily looked away, when everyone else was staring at the girl in the middle of the dance floor, the one who was having a great time and who would have given young David Rossi a run for his money at the club, back in the days.

"Awh, since when are you such a prude?" Alvez, being the Latino Macho of the bunch, walked to Emily's side and disapproved of her decision to look away.

"Damn, look at her. She's got a great ass. I bet she trains like hell. A little running, a little jumping jacks, a little riding. Uh, horses. Yeah." He ended off lamely.

"Luke, if you don't shut up, I'll _make_ you!" Emily's face was almost green after hearing those words. "Plus, aren't you in a serious relationship?"

"In a relationship, yes. Serious? Not so sure anymore." This was the first time in two weeks that Emily realized that she wasn't the only one who was going through something.

Luke had been so happy to date this Lisa girl, he had told everyone at work about her. But when, some time ago, Garcia had invited everyone to Luke's house to meet Lisa, she had suspiciously been called in for work that same evening. And now that he was drunk, more of the truth was coming out.

"Aww, I'm sorry." Emily pouted, her hand rubbing his shoulder. "But please don't be one of those guys who talk about another girl's ass before they even dump the girl who is an ass to them. Still, be done before you keep going."

It didn't take a genius to read between the lines. Emily had been deceived by men her whole life. She never said it out loud, but everyone kind of knew.

"Day one, bitcheees!" Angie was now starting her third drink and she was on a roll.

Jack, Bryan's roommate, could not stop laughing. "Man, she's even crazier than you described her." He leaned towards Bryan, making sure Angie wouldn't overhear.

"Oh, that girl is definitely something, alright!" Bryan smirked.

Bryan had always been the cool, athletic guy, the guy everyone wanted to hang out with. He had a touch of arrogance, but it was just for appearance. On the inside, Bryan was an amazing guy and, somehow, Angie had figured it out earlier that day when she decided to make that pact with him, about going through the ups and downs of the Academy together. She had always imagined herself in the FBI academy on her own, focused and kind of nerdy. But, being there…it changed her perspective from the first moment. Amanda came off as what Angie thought she would be like and she was quite a snooze, before the second drink had kicked in, anyway.

"Happy birthday to me!" Angie let out, unintentionally.

"Oh my God, it's your birthday today!?" Bryan was surprised. He had spent the whole day around her and she had never even mentioned it. After she nodded in reply, he asked how old she was. Because, really, it was the only possible moment when a guy could ask for a girl's age and be excused.

"Twenty-three!" Angie cheered happily.

"Wow, she looks 17." JJ pointed out, because, that girl was making quite an impression on everyone and she had numerous sets of eyes on her, one of which was JJ's.

"Actually, she could not be any less than 23. Legally, in order to join the FBI, one would have to have completed the age of 23, and to have a series of other qualities on hand, before even starting the Academy." Reid's nerdy self re-appeared from hiding behind the column and pretending like he had been to the toilet and that he was just now coming back. The toilets were in the opposite direction, anyway.

"Yada, yada, Reid. We've all been through it. We know how the process goes." Luke rolled his eyes, wishing that Reid would just shut up and give in to the rhythm.

"I think 23 is a little young to even have the mental preparation to join the FBI." Simmons shrugged. He had always been curious about joining the FBI, but he had been older than 23 when he entered the Academy. He had done service elsewhere beforehand, gaining all the experience he possibly could.

"Ha!" Emily scoffed and turned around, so nobody could see her grin like the devil.

Time went by and people started to leave the bar. The bartenders' job switched from mixing drinks to calling cabs, so that everyone could get home safely.

"Jack, why don't you and Girl go grab a few bottles of water? We could all use some sobering up." Angie received a very nasty stare from Amanda, who did not appreciate being called Girl, now that her name was known.

It was, by far, the most fun night the bar had ever hosted. Usually people would drink, chat, play some darts or poker, pretend like the jukebox in the corner is actually working well, while the sound of it was painful and the whole thing was just rusty and old.

The staff started to prepare for closing and Angie finally sat down and slowly finished the bottle of water that Amanda had given her earlier.

"Well, that was fun!" Bryan cut through the silence at some point.

The more time they spent were sat on their butts, the more tired they were getting. All the adrenaline from the day had slowly vanished and all that was left was four sleepy young party people. Nothing wrong with that.

A cab was soon at their disposal and they hopped in after making sure everyone was sober enough to not get sick in the car. That would have been extremely lame.

Bryan and Jack insisted on walking the girls to their room, even after Angie informed them that, as future FBI agents, they were more than able to defend themselves. The guys still accompanied them.

The rest was a blur. None of them remembered the moment they hit the bed, which was also the moment they had instantly fallen asleep.

It went something like that for the BAU members, as well. Minus one.

Emily would twist and turn in her bed, unable to fall asleep, no matter how tired her body was feeling. She now only had four days left to present her new budget plan and things had just gotten more complicated.

Finally, early in the morning, as the sun started to rise, she was able to close her eyes.

In her sleep, she saw scenes from her past. Some were nice, some not so much. Everything was moving so fast that she was unable to tell the different scenes and people apart. It felt like she was watching her life on a tape, fast-forwarding it all the time.

The one scene that she saw somewhat clearly was with someone else. They were at a bar, Emily felt like she was happier than ever before. The other person held out their hand and Emily stood up. They danced. It was dark and hot, very humid, it smelled like cigars and scotch, but Emily loved it. Nobody else was around, not even the staff. Emily could only see a smudged vision of the other person, but she knew exactly who it was. What she managed to see clearly was the vision of her own face, smiling, laughing, as if she had no care in the whole wide world.

"I'll always love you." The other person said to her softly and it made her cry, both in her dream scene and as she was dreaming about it.

Before the Emily from the dream could say those words back, the other person had vanished. The bar was now suddenly busy, full of strangers, loud music, smoke in the air. But, no matter how hard she looked for that person, they were gone and, even surrounded by the whole crowd, she felt empty and alone.

"I'll love you forever!" Emily whispered, waking up from her nightmare and realizing it was too late for those words. They meant nothing now. There was this intense feeling in her stomach that she would never be able to say those words back to the other person.

She checked her phone, in case it was 3 pm again and in case JJ had called her 23 times, like the previous day.

It was only 9 am. She had slept for a total of 134 minutes, which was by far the most she had managed to sleep in a row for the past two weeks.

Knowing that she wouldn't be able to close her eyes one more time, and maybe she was also scared to see those images once again, she hopped out of bed and prepared herself a good, healthy breakfast.


	5. Close Your Mouth, You're Drooling

** CHAPTER 5**

_**CLOSE YOUR MOUTH, YOU'RE DROOLING**_

"Good morning." A fellow FBI agent from a different division greeted Emily as they walked out of their cars and into the building.

"Oh, a glorious one, I shall say." Emily said grumpily. She never liked the guy particularly much anyways.

She made her way to her office, ignoring even the cute guy that she had been flirting with occasionally.

Somehow, the pile of documents on her desk never seemed to shrink. She had a theory that some magic elf must be appearing at night, leaving all these not-so-magical documents for her to go through and sort out. No matter how many hours she spent there, work seemed to never end.

With a loud sigh, she sat down behind her desk and started from the top, one page at a time.

By lunch time she was done with five pages of reports, now she only had about twenty-five more to go.

"Hey, how does pizza sound?" Rossi said while knocking on the door.

He had the confidence to just walk in without an invite. There was a weird understanding between him and Emily, an unofficial green card for both of them, to do or say whatever they wanted, at any given time. David took advantage of that when he appeared by her office door now.

"Forget pizza…" He trailed off. As he walked towards Emily, he noticed the huge black puffy under-eyes and it made him frown. "Have you even slept? What time did you get in here?"

"An hour ago." Emily replied calmly. She had seen the first one of her colleagues enter at around eleven o'clock, so she pretended like she had just walked in herself, at that time, when in reality she had been there since quarter past ten.

"It would take Garcia two minutes, and a new unicorn figure as a bribe, to give me your badge swipe activity." He raised an eyebrow and, very discretely, he took a look at the papers in front of Emily. He recognized them, he had dealt with such stuff before. However, asking Emily if she needed any help would be a dead end, so he stayed quiet. There was plenty of time to plot with the rest of the team at lunch, since he was sure Emily would not like to join them.

"Pizza sounds good." Unexpectedly, she gave in, but really it was just a clever way to change the topic.

* * *

**_FBI Academy_**

_"__PARTY PEOPLE IN THE HOUSE…."_ An annoyingly loud and obnoxious voice startled a whole bunch of half-drunk people from last night. Angie and her new friends were not the only ones who went out to celebrate. _"REPORT TO THE GYM IN TEN!"_

"What the-…" Amanda grunted, trying to pull the covers on top of her face, as if that would prevent her from facing the reality.

Angie, on the other hand, jumped out of bed with a smile.

"It's the loudspeaker." She cheerfully pointed out the obvious.

"No shit!?" Amanda had warmed up to Angie the night before, but she was starting to fall back into her sarcastic bitch mode. Or maybe she was just not a morning person.

"Come on. It's the second day of FBI Academy!" A second later, the covers were being thrown to the floor, forcing a breeze of fresh air to hit Amanda's bare legs and to help wake her up a little more.

"God, you're annoying." Amanda muttered on her way to the bathroom.

They both had ten minutes to shower quickly, dress up and sprint to the gym. They both made it in the nick of time.

"I beat you to it." Bryan stuck his tongue at Angie when he saw her all sweaty and out of breath.

"Hey! I had to fix the bow. It takes time." She laughed.

Her shirt might have been twisted sideways and the left rim of her pants was obviously higher than the right one, but the bow was most definitely in place.

"Do you own bow in all the colors possible?" Amanda tried to be rude once more.

"Yes!" Angie replied in a very calm and collected way, her voice full of pride.

_"__On today's agenda we have physical fitness training until noon. Lunch time. Then you'll be having your welcome speech in the auditorium. I see you've all put on your academy uniform, but it is time to sweat. Hope you brought your own gym clothes…"_ The voice on the loudspeaker announced, trailing off, otherwise he would have added a witty comment about the Bureau not providing the Academy with gym uniforms this year, as part of the budget cut.

"That only means one thing." Angie shrugged. "Race to the room and back?"

With those words she gave Amanda a head start. If they had to work their asses off, the least she could do was to make it sound fun and exciting.

After what seemed like an eternity of exercise, it was finally time to have lunch. Amanda offered sushi, but nobody was feeling it. Bryan's roommate went to get tacos with the other guys they had just met during training, so their little group was shrinking slowly.

"Burgers?" Bryan offered.

"As much as I love the sound of that and I hate the sound of me sounding like a complete snob…" Angie spoke while brushing sweat off her forehead in a very ladylike way – with her sweat-drenched tank top. "Guys, we need to eat healthy."

"Miss goody-two-shoes much?" Her roommate rolled her eyes.

"Look, Girl, all you ever do is bark out unwanted remarks. Can you, please, not?" Angie was not someone who would take crap from anyone. "I'm here to learn and to surround myself with people I like and people who like me. If I'm such a pain in your existence, file for a new roommate."

Angie walked away without another word. It was a new side of her, one that left Bryan speechless. He had already figured that she was feisty, but apparently, there was so much more to her than what met the eye. Was she even as immature as her bubbly personality suggested? Or was it just a façade? She had been handling herself quite well with Amanda's nasty remarks, so she was hardly a stupid little girl.

In a state of deep self-reflection and consumed by her own inner thoughts, she walked aimlessly around the campus. The one thing that guided her was the smell of food and she walked in _that_ direction, which lead her to a court yard with a few restaurants. She scanned the area and picked the healthiest choice. Five minutes later, Bryan walked through the door.

"Before you ask, I knew I could find you at a place where the entire menu consists of avocado and quinoa." He laughed, placing a chair near her.

"Before _you_ ask, I don't like girls who are rude to other girls." With those words, she looked at the menu and chose her meal carefully. Surely, he would have asked her about her outburst.

Bryan took whatever she had ordered, hoping it would be enough to satisfy his appetite.

After they finished eating, they spent a few minutes just lying on the freshly cut grass in the relax area outside. Angie applied a faintly colored pink lipstick and added some blush to her cheeks.

"Someone is excited about the sappy welcome speech." Bryan teased her. "Maybe we'll get a hot FBI agent to teach us some moves, huh?"

"Oh, I'm excited for all the different reasons." She smirked, not wanting to admit to him that she had a yet another side to her that he had no clue about.

She gasped as she entered what would be their classroom from that point forward. It was a huge auditorium, very monochromatic, with a gigantic FBI logo plastered on the wall behind the podium. To everyone else it seemed so plain. To Angie it looked inspiring.

"Hello everyone. Welcome to your classroom. Since this year we switched things up and you never really had a Welcome speech, we have here a very special guest who volunteered last-minute to say a few words to you." The guy, whose name they didn't yet know, but whose voice they had all heard on the loudspeaker, was on the podium, giving the introduction.

He seemed like the planner, not much like the teacher kind of type. Angie's guess was that he would be like a mentor to the class, making all the announcements and following everyone's progress, while for every category of study they would have a different Agent assigned. And she was right.

"Hello everyone and welcome to a very different version of the FBI Academy." To everyone's surprise, it was a female who walked to the podium and started talking.

Her voice was so soft, caring. It felt like she was giving warm hugs to everyone around her. It was soothing, the kind of voice that one would take great pleasure listening to for a long period of time, kind of like the voices they use for audio books. However, it was not her voice that caught the guys' attention.

"Damn, I can, apparently, foresee the future." Bryan said loudly and got scolded by Angie.

"I said that a hot FBI agent will come over and, wow…" He eyed the woman up and down. "I wouldn't mind _her_ teaching me a few moves!" He added, licking his lips.

"Eww, eww, eww!" Angie put her hands to her ears, not wanting to hear another word.

"I mean, look at her. She's fine as Hell." He kept on talking because he could simply not contain himself. "Too early to ask her if she gives any private lessons?"

"You are disgusting and I will _make_ you shut up, trust me, you won't like my ways!" Angie's fists swayed in the air in mock-attack.

"Oh, come on. Since when are you such a prude?" Up until now, Bryan had met his perfect match in Angie. But, was she really a prude?

"I'm not. It's just…ugh." She was speechless and that was a very rare occurrence. She simply shivered, imagining what Bryan might be thinking of at that moment.

"I am Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief for the BAU, that stands for Behavioral Analysis Unit, here at the FBI." The woman introduced herself, tugging on her shirt a little bit as she had noticed quite a few guys checking out the décolleté.

"Close your mouth, you're drooling. It's embarrassing!" Angie rolled her eyes again, slapping Bryan's cheek lightly, in attempts to get him back to reality.


	6. FBI - Family, Belief, Infallibility

**CHAPTER 6**

_**F.B.I. - FAMILY, BELIEF, INFALLIBILITY**_

Emily looked around the auditorium after delivering her first line. Introducing herself was easy, she had done it so many times by now that the line, however long it was, always slipped off her tongue, like butter. But then came the hard part.

She licked her lips, looking from left to right. There were only unfamiliar faces of people of different ages and backgrounds, all of whom oozed determination to learn, perfect themselves and thrive in the FBI. It pained Emily to think how the majority of those people would be cut after the first couple of weeks. There were no funds to keep them all there, that was what she had been told. The learning process consisted of lots and lots of practice and training, both of which required materials that were expensive.

Emily heard Dan clear his voice, as if to urge her to continue.

Dan Hamlin was the FBI Academy class coordinator, a.k.a. _the annoying loudspeaker voice_, as everyone called him. He was in his 50's, bald, mid-height, he occasionally wore glasses, just to have a more authoritarian look, especially when he had to scold one of the trainees.

"Right…" Emily mumbled, wondering why she hadn't made the time this morning to prepare a speech. _Any_ speech. Even the shortest, most uninformative and uninspiring one. Oh yes. _That_ was why. Because she never did anything that was half-assed. Except when it came to relationships, then she was most definitely not as invested as she should be.

Last night she had taken the drunk decision to be the inspiration of the new class. Summer had just finished and everyone had seemed so chill and relaxed at the bar, having the time of their lives, dancing on the bar and getting offered free shots by people they did not even know. They seemed young, fun, vibrant, which was okay, but not a good start at the FBI. Trainees had to have a good head on their shoulders. Emily wanted to help them get in the right mindset, even if the rough reality was that, for most of them, it wouldn't really make a difference.

The first few weeks were always crucial. That was the time when most people would drop out on their own will, anyway. Everything would be hard, everyone would be immersed into a new reality, one that was completely different than anything they had been used to. The only somewhat privileged ones were the trainees with prior military training. Although, they usually found it hard to adjust to this new pace and, consulting the official Academy statistics, a lot of them dropped out by week five.

Emily took a deep breath, her eyes now piercing through just one person in the whole auditorium.

"Welcome to the FBI Academy!" She said with a forced smile before her gaze shifted to the last rows. Fixating one person was just weird and made her feel uncomfortable.

"I look at you, all, and I see so much potential. Drive. Charisma. Intelligence. Determination. And while all those qualities will, without a doubt, help you through your training, the true drive has to come from here…" Her hand rose from the side of her thigh, where she had just swiped the sweat off against her pants, and pressed against the left side of her chest. "_This_ has to be full, _this_ has to be your drive."

"Oh, yours is full, alright." Bryan bit his lips, checking out Emily's décolleté, as she had just pat it slightly, to give her words a deeper meaning.

He earned himself a very loud slap against the shoulder. Again.

"You are disgusting. Stop!" Angie said quietly. "She meant the heart."

"Yeah. Heart. That's what I meant, too." He added, lamely.

"I'm sure you did." Angie pulled out her tablet, wondering if this was going to be an actual lecture, or just a sappy speech.

"I won't bother you, explaining what is to come. I just want to make sure you all are willing to work hard in order to experience it all, until the end. I won't lie, this is going to be hard. You are going to sweat. All life, outside the Academy, will be put on hold. Cell phones are not allowed during training and in the classrooms and laboratories. None of you can visit home and relatives for the first five weeks. We need you focused and present. Forget about weekends. Here you are busy 7 days a week. I know this sounds impossible, but trust me, you will find your own time to go enjoy some leisure activities." Emily met a lot of disapproval and it startled her, since all the information she just gave them was public knowledge.

"I invite you to read your trainee handbooks again, before you call me a bitch." She let out a small laugh, shaking off the tension that she had created with her previous statement.

"If I had to give you one piece of advice, it would be to choose your friends wisely. Some of the people you meet in the Academy are going to be in your life for a very, _very_ long time. They might even be the reason why your lifeline would be so long. So, treat everyone with respect. This is not high-school and no bullying or cattiness will be tolerated. We are all grown-ups. Let's just put it that way – imagine yourselves in a very shitty situation, a few years from now. Guns blazing, you have no back-up on the field. What would happen if the only person available to help you out was someone you kept on bullying in the Academy, to the point where they have nearly zero wish to help your ass? Huh?" She smirked, seeing a few people give her cheeky looks of approval.

Emily has always had her way with words. She was an excellent motivator and she knew it. That was part of the reason why she decided to give the welcome speech that year.

"When times are hard, don't give up. There is always going to be someone to help you out. We have a team of amazing psychologists who are available 24/7. There is no shame in asking for help, physical, emotional or spiritual. Nobody is going to judge you. If anything, we are proud when trainees seek help and support from their mentors. Admitting weakness is _not_ a sign of weakness itself. On the contrary." For a moment she trailed off.

Her mind was suddenly invaded by thoughts. Was she an egoist to say those words to the trainees when she, herself, had been hearing and ignoring those words for the past two weeks? What if her team had been trying to get through to her, just as she was trying to get through to the trainees? She made a mental note to herself to go talk to someone, sooner or later.

Dan nodded in her direction and she knew it was time to break the bad news.

"This year we have fewer open positions for hiring. This does not mean that you can get lazy. We are no more looking for the best trainees. We are looking to form the best agents possible. By the end of this journey the remaining of you would be assigned a personal mentor. Some of you are going to get an internship with the department of their choice, if available. Also, the internship is no longer going to be at the end of the twenty-one weeks of training. Nope. It is going to be integrated into the training. It is up to you to keep it up or quit. Like I said, this year is going to be hard. And, if you end up getting that badge at the end, it is going to get even harder. But I can guarantee you, it is going be the best thing that ever happened in your life." Dan sent her another stern look. She was supposed to be talking business, yet there she was, getting all mallow and sentimental. But she couldn't help it.

"Being part of a team…" Emily stopped for a second, realizing that out there, on the very last row, there were a bunch of faces that she recognized. It made her smile. "Uh, being part of a team is the biggest reward in life. It's like having a second family, always knowing you can count on someone, always having someone to scold you when you're on the wrong path." She shot a glance at a specific person – a blond-haired girl, holding two cups of coffee. "And there will always be that one person who would stand by your side in both tears and joy; the one that would bring you coffee when you don't even know you're craving for it; the one who would drop their life to be there for you when your own life is a mess; the one who would love you deeply and unconditionally; the one you have that special bond with; the one who'd give you a shoulder to cry on and then make it her life's mission to never let that same thing make you cry, ever again; the one…" Emily trailed off. No matter how many more words she'd use, they would never be enough to express how she felt about that person. "Ahh, you guys. Just, _the one_, okay?"

"JJ, I think she's talking about you." Rossi, sitting by her side, pointed out with pride.

It made JJ laugh.

"Then, you'll always have that other someone who would be your best friend and your biggest competition. Someone so incredibly smart and experienced that your knees get weak when you have to be their Boss, knowing that this person is at least a million times better than you, yet, so humble, so open-minded, so willing to help you gain your success without wanting a single thing in return." Emily continued, her gaze now shifting to Rossi, making him blush.

"Then you will have a special person - there is always that _one_ person who represents all the colors of the spectrum. Black, when things get rough; white, when the front is clear; blue, in case you're pregnant and you see that clear blue line on the thing…" She laughed. There was nothing else that came to her mind when it came to the color blue. "Red when you are in love and that person keeps nagging you about all the intimate details of your new relationship; and, the best of all – pink, because the brightest color that could ever shine around that person is, indeed, pink. The typical baby girl color. The color of her cheeks when you go over the PG 13 limit in your rants. Her color of choice when it comes to stationary or simply just life, in general. The color of her lipstick, and oh God, one of the many colors you could find on any item of clothing she owns."

"Oh, sweet unicorn heavens, I love that woman, she makes me squeal more than I usually do!" Garcia swiped a tear from her chin and felt like her cheeks were burning. She knew they were probably pink by now. After what Emily had just said about her, it was to be expected.

"Your team will be nothing without a genius, a person who would magically whip out information on literally any topic. Someone who is shy, who seems to keep to themselves, but when you really get to know him, he would be the most wonderful person inside. Someone who would put aside his germaphobia, in order to hug you when you are sad. Someone who would sacrifice his own life, in order to save yours. Repeatedly." Emily smiled at Reid, both of them thinking about that one case where they had entered a cult undercover and things had gone bad, so Reid had blown his cover, making sure Emily would be okay.

After the lack of initial reaction, JJ nudged Reid.

"That would be you." She whispered to him.

"Oh!" He said after the big revelation hit him. "She's riveting!" He added, dreamily.

"Okay, Thesaurus." Luke jumped at the chance to point out Reid's odd choice of an adjective. Again.

Emily stopped for a moment, assessing the situation. Even in her state of deep emotional downpour, she knew that she must be boring the Hell out of the trainees. However, she was pleasantly surprised to notice how everyone's eyes were glued to her. Apparently, people liked hearing about the positive things that came with the job, so she continued.

"Then there is the one who works out all the time. The dude that gets all the ladies." She continued.

"That would be you." Angie smirked and Bryan looked at her approvingly. He had always been kind of a macho player.

"That guy would be by your side and would be happy to ditch a date for you, any day, any time…but preferably before midnight." Emily laughed at her own statement, referencing an instance in which she had been upset and Luke had told her that she would always come first and that he would even ditch a hot date for her, unless it was after midnight, when it would possibly be too late for him to prioritize that way.

"One of your team members is going to be the epitome of a modern family. You are going to admire how they manage to juggle a family with four kids with a job like ours. Other than the fact that he'd know everything about baby products, he would also be the one to go to for any motorbike advice." This time she looked at Matt who was grinning back at her. He loved getting praise for being a good father and a husband.

"If you are extremely lucky, more members of your team would be your idols when it comes to family goals." Emily acknowledged both JJ and Rossi for a moment, although Rossi being considered as _family goals_ was a bit questionable. But lately, he had been doing just fine.

"Last, but not least…" Tara was on the edge of her seat, listening to Emily's words about her. "The unpredictable one - the one who would seem extremely professional, until she decides to flip the switch and drag you dancing. This one would hold the bottle against your mouth and then hold your hair in the bathroom." It was now Emily's time to blush, as she referenced a moment from a couple of months ago where Tara had texted her to go clubbing since nobody else was available that night. They had hit a few bars before ending up at a striptease bar. To their dismay, they found out it was a gentleman's bar only _after_ they had paid solid cash to get in. Tara had promised Emily to bring her to see male strippers, but it had not gone as planned. So, the only smart thing to do, in their opinion, had been to get hammered and to enjoy whatever they had paid for. It had worked…until Emily ended up on the cold bathroom floor, facing the toilet seat, with Tara holding her hair up and considering if it was a good idea to make a video of that moment, for further bribing, in case Emily got cocky as a Unit Chief. She had then decided against it. Up to that day, Tara regretted that decision.

"Woman, what are you doing?" Dan hissed at Emily, standing in the sidelines.

"I wish you all to, one day, have a family like that. Because, apart from all the disgusting things, the crime, the violence, the horror that you are going to see on a daily basis, there would also be people like those, right there by your side, every single day. And that is what the FBI is for me. Federal Bureau of Investigation is what the initials stand for. Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity is what they will teach you to stand for, in the Academy. But Family, Belief, Infallibility is what it means to me. Thank you very much. Once again, I'm SSA Emily Prentiss from the BAU and I wish every single one of you to get to where they want to be, within the Bureau." Without even knowing it, she found a small tear on her right cheek. Emily would usually be able to keep her feelings in check, but not this time.

To her surprise, literally every single person in the auditorium got up on their feet and started applauding her. It felt good. Emily rarely ever liked to bask in the glory of appraisal, but she would gladly make an exception at that specific moment.


	7. It's A Covenant You're Still Not Part Of

**CHAPTER 7**

_**IT'S A COVENANT YOU'RE STILL NOT PART OF**_

"How could you not get emotional?" Bryan walked after Angie, on their way to the photography unit.

After Emily's speech, they had been informed by Dan that it was time to fill in a few documents and to go get their photos for their AT badges. For the first couple of days they had been provided with temporary ones – a code, printed on a piece of paper that they had to bring everywhere with them to gain access to rooms, lockers or laboratories. Now, it was time for the real thing.

"I'm not a crybaby." She replied, not altering her pace. She could not wait to get her hands on that piece of plastic – the real badge, even if it would be as limited as the paper one she already had.

"But that was so inspirational!" Bryan argued. Apart from the fact that he found Emily to be extremely attractive, he also liked the way she spoke and her words had inspired him.

"Enough kids shed tears in that room. I had to balance things out." Angie stopped by the door of the photo lab. A few people had beat them to it and now they had to wait in line. She hated queues. Out of all the characteristics she had, patience was absent.

"You sound just like Amanda." Bryan knew this would get on Angie's nerves.

"Shut up and hold my mirror." She handed him a tiny pocket mirror and started picking things out of the little bag that she carried with her.

"Holy crap! What are you, Aladdin or something?" His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, watching her continuously reach inside the bag and pull things out.

A mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow palette, brushes, lipstick, lip-gloss, brow pen, blush, highlighter. They were all travel-sized, but still, to a guy that looked absolutely astonishing. When she also pulled a little hair brush out of the bag, he lost it.

"I like to think of myself as a modern day, new and improved, much sexier version of Mary Poppins!" She said while applying some mascara.

"Can you, please, hold still? Ugh, you'll be terrible at sniper training." She giggled, grabbing his shaking hand and steadying it until she could focus on her own reflection in the mirror once more.

"What else is in there?" Curiosity was eating him up inside.

"A gun, if you don't shut up and stay still!" She smirked and checked out how many people were still in queue before them. Five. That meant she had to prioritize. She tossed the brow stuff aside, she never really liked doing anything to her brows anyway, and she focused on eye shadow, blush and lipstick after she was done applying her mascara.

"You always put your mascara on first?" Amanda popped by and asked the question any girl would be curious to hear the answer to. Mascara was always the last thing to be applied, everyone knew that, yet somehow Angie preferred to put it on first.

"You always cut queues, pretending to have friends ahead?" Angie bit back.

"Look, I'm sorry I was a bitch earlier." It was unexpected of Amanda to say those words. Both Angie and Bryan listened carefully. "I never said we were not friends, it's just that I want this Academy experience so badly and I don't know how to juggle it with anything else."

"Well, you heard that there are FBI agents with families and four kids. They found a way to juggle it all. You seem like a smart girl. Why don't you believe in yourself and try to find a way, too?" Angie said calmly this time.

"Yeah, actually, it was that woman's speech that made me want to try and patch things up with you. Like she said, you never know who might save your ass out there, some day." Amanda smiled uncomfortably.

"See? I told you Agent Hotness was inspiring." Bryan smirked.

"Prentiss!" Angie corrected him. "And ugh, you pervert."

"So, can we maybe start over?" Amanda's hands swayed to her sides, she looked like a nervous school girl who had just approached the cool kids.

"Of course. And just so you know, I would not only save your ass out there, someday…" Angie tried to sound serious, but ended off laughing like an idiot. "But I would hold your hair back, any time, Amanda!"

"You called me by my name!" Amanda nearly squealed. This was a victory, in her book.

"Don't get used to it, Girl." Angie teased.

"NEXT!" Dan called out and she noticed it was her turn to go in for her photo.

With one swift motion she applied a layer of faint pink lipstick and she was ready to go.

Once inside the laboratory, she was indicated to take one of the ten seats that had been put there, in order to make the photo taking process go faster. She saw flashes from the other people's photos and that made her smile. She liked taking photos, although she rarely did so. She found it quite fun to be the protagonist of something, to have all lights on her. It was thrilling, it gave her so much satisfaction.

"Miss, can you, please, stop smiling?" One of the lab guys tried to get her attention.

Apparently, Angie had lost herself in her thoughts while the poor guy had been attempting to take a decent photo of her.

"Me? Oops. Sorry." She apologized, standing straight and fixing her hair, so that she would look good.

"I need you to take the bow off your hair." Those words pissed her off.

"I'm sorry, could you remind me again, why do we need to have a photo on our badges?" She came off as innocent, it seemed like a random dumb question.

"A photo represents your identity." The guy replied, unenthusiastically.

"So does my bow. It stays!" She stated very calmly and her confidence startled the man to the point where he didn't dare to argue about it anymore.

A few seconds later she realized she had been posing, but no flash was being directed to her.

"You're still smiling." The man justified the fact that he hadn't yet taken a photo.

"And I will be smiling until the day I die." Something about her made it obvious that she would do as she pleased. And yet, it didn't come off rude, or childish. It was more like a girl who was not afraid to speak her mind and to stand up for what she wanted.

The guy finally snapped a few shots of her, thinking that it wouldn't really be his problem if, while printing the badges, the personnel found her photos to be inadmissible.

With the corner of her eye Angie saw both Bryan and Amanda walk in the lab and sit on each side of her.

"Hey, look at that. We're doing this, together." She said cheerfully.

"It's a covenant you're still not part of." Angie added when she saw confusion on Amanda's face.

Bryan just laughed. He never really understood women.

Amanda was about five years older than Angie, yet he had to think twice before he could remember the meaning of the word covenant. It was not a word young people ever used, or _knew_, anyway.

* * *

**_BAU Bullpen_**

Emily walked in and there were more applauses. She had been forced to stay in the auditorium a little longer, until Dan was finished giving orders, before she could go back to her office. By that time, there was a whole celebration organized in her honor. However, the second coffee that JJ held in her hands during the speech, the one she intended on giving to Emily, was now cold.

"Guys, please…" Emily blushed once more.

"Not a word, Prentiss." JJ announced, handing plastic cups to everyone.

There were some very last-minute party essentials on the desks – Emily's favorite pretzels, a cheese platter from the bar downstairs; some olives that Tara had bought to bring home after work that day, but she had sacrificed the whole jar for this party; a half pack of mini marshmallows that Garcia had kept on the side of her desk for almost a week now, with the excuse that she would make a hot chocolate one day, but really, she just nibbled on the tiny delights when she was nervous; Rossi had offered to contribute with some authentic Cuban cigars, but none of his colleagues was old enough to give value to his offer, so it got squashed; while Reid's donation was to whip out his favorite chess board, a special birthday present he had received from his mentor, his closest confidante for his first few years at the BAU, after having graduated the Academy; the guy also known as their previous Unit Chief Jason Gideon.

"JJ!" Emily exclaimed scoldingly, checking out the plastic cups that were now being distributed to everyone.

"Ah!" Garcia's cheeky smile appeared. "Don't worry. We have the nonalcoholic version."

She pulled out two bottles of Virgin Piña Colada. Emily had bought three of those, as part of a joke, a few months ago and after tasting the first one, they had been abandoned in the back of the storage room at the BAU, since literally nobody enjoyed them.

"Good to know I contributed my own disgusting drinks to my own last-minute party." Emily laughed and this time it was full-heartedly.

She had been faking smiles and laughter for the past sixteen days and it bothered her as much as it did the rest of the team. This time, however, it came from the heart. Maybe she got inspired by her own speech.

"Cheers to the most amazing Unit Chief and best friend one could ever wish for!" JJ was not one to go into long emotional speeches. That was typical of Emily. JJ was more of a straight-shooter – a few words, but the _right_ words. Her FBI liaison training had installed that in her.

"Aww, I love you, guys." Emily felt her chin quiver.

Through the rough times lately, she had not allowed herself to feel the love that people were showing her. It felt good to open the doors and let them in once again. But, would it last for long?


	8. It's Not Her Name, But Call Her Layla

**CHAPTER 8**

_**IT'S NOT HER NAME, BUT CALL HER LAYLA**_

"Put your thumb here…" A short, elder guy pointed to a surface. "Good, now roll."

Angie obeyed. She found it annoying how the guy felt the urge to describe every single thing he was doing. Everyone has seen enough criminal shows to know how the process of taking someone's fingerprints goes.

"Ouch." Angie shifted uncomfortably when she felt someone poking at her free hand, while she was busy controlling the fingerprinting process that was currently happening as well.

"Don't worry. We'll clean up the skin." A woman in a white apron spoke to her softly, thinking Angie might have been concerned about getting an infection.

"Why do you need my blood?" She said, a bit frantically.

"It's standard procedures. Fingerprints, blood, DNA, polygraph - those are some of the things each trainee has to go through before we even print an AT badge for you." The woman explained further.

Angie winced, not from the pain, but from what those words entailed. She had known it all along, but now, having to actually do those things, she started to get nervous.

"You're ready to go." The elderly man said when he finished taking her fingerprints.

She left the laboratory quite quickly and very willingly.

"Are we ready to call it a day?" Bryan asked once their group of four reunited in the court outside the building. After the speech they had their photos taken and then finished the rest of the things they were required to do. The only thing that was left was the lie detector.

"Heck, yeah." Angie appeared to be in a much less cheerful mood than earlier.

They started walking towards the dorms when they heard another announcement on the loudspeaker.

_"__All trainees report to the swimming pool in 10!"_ Dan's voice was both cool and annoying. Everyone had to get used to it. They would be hearing lots of it.

* * *

"Agent Prentiss?" A familiar voice came from the other side of Emily's office door.

It made her roll her eyes.

"I cannot seem to find your budget cut proposal on my desk." The woman made her way inside the office without waiting for an invite. She was, after all, Emily's superior.

"I am working on it, Ma'am." In life Emily had learned two things – to fight for her life and to lie out her ass, when she needed to.

"Good. Because the deadline is Sunday morning. It is Wednesday evening now." The woman observed Emily's facial expressions, waiting for a sign of weakness, which Emily never showed. That was one more thing she had to learn in life and she had learned it the hard way.

"Otherwise, I'll have to proceed and cut your funding in whichever area I might find fitting. The BAU jet is the first one to go, if I had to choose." The woman added with a smirk.

_"__You, cocky little piece of-…"_ Emily thought to herself, while on the outside she remained awfully calm and collected. Oh, she would be drinking later that night. For sure.

"Would be delivered by Sunday morning, Ma'am." She almost sounded genuine.

The woman left, having achieved what she came for – she had put even more pressure on Emily's shoulders.

As Emily busied herself by pushing papers out of her way and making space for a blank piece of paper, which represented her budget cut proposal so far, she was oblivious to the fact that Chief Fowler had nearly knocked JJ out, on her way out of the office.

Jennifer was the quiet one, but she was nosier than the rest of the team, all together. Even Garcia, the Gossip Queen, had to give it to JJ - her ways were way sneakier than Garcia's.

The Chief disappeared into the elevator, leaving a very confused JJ, standing on the other side of a door that lead to an equally as confused Emily.

_"__The jet, my ass!"_ JJ muttered to herself, starting to pace up and down the hallway. _"Not if I can help it. Pff!"_

It wasn't just a whim. JJ loved the jet and she would always bug people to let her have a window seat, but that was not the reason why she was so protective of it.

That jet had taken them to so many locations, where they had been able to save so many lives. The jet was not a means of transport for the BAU, it was a way of bringing people back to life - to the normal life they had before they got kidnapped and tortured. The jet was, metaphorically, transforming the team into the flying Angels that travel across the country and save lives.

A young JJ would have never imagined she would even end up flying on a jet one day. Small town girl, grown up in the woods, the jet life was not even something she was familiar with. For a 10 year old JJ, the definition of _glamorous_ would have been a picnic in the field with her elder sister. At 11 years old, that changed, along with many other ways that JJ saw the world and imagined her life to turn out to be, as a grown up.

So, the jet was staying.

After having given it some thought, JJ decided it was best to do as she always did – plot with the team. She went downstairs and grouped everyone up. Matt had to leave, as he wanted to be able to kiss his kids goodnight and it was getting pretty late, but everyone else stayed.

JJ made a speech about helping Emily with the proposal, so that she could only focus on her paper work. They were not getting any new cases for two weeks now, so they had a lot of time on their hands. Emily, however, had none.

"Now, go home, relax and we will brainstorm tomorrow at lunch. Emily already informed us that she won't be joining us. She has something else to do tomorrow. So, make sure you come up with ideas." JJ ended off, waving goodbye and leaving the building, so she could kiss her own kids goodnight as well.

* * *

"Damn, she's good at this." Angie pointed at Amanda, who was following their couch's instructions and killing it.

Arriving at the swimming pool, they had been given rules for a team-based game to be played in the water. None of them had to play in a team, or even in a match together, so everyone could watch and cheer for each other. First up was Amanda who was in a team with 3 guys, against a team of two guys and two girls. She moved so smoothly under water, it felt like it came natural to her.

Once her match was over and her team won, Angie couldn't help but compliment her.

"Thanks. I grew up around water. I guess I learned how to swim before I even knew how to walk." She brushed it off, but in reality, she had won numerous competitions. She seemed to be trying this new thing where she wouldn't be a bitch to people and she also wouldn't point out how good she was at doing whatever thing.

Then came Bryan's turn to play and his team also won the game. His roommate's team, however, was up next and they lost by two points.

Angie jumped in the water when it was her turn. She liked her team a lot. There was a guy who seemed like he could be her very own Dr. Reid in the future. He was smart and very well behaved, a little quiet, but she could tell he was a nice person. She had sat near him for that Welcome speech and she had kept an eye on him. Another person on her team was a guy she saw parking his motorbike outside the restaurant where she and Bryan ate at the day before. It was a cool bike, one of the fancy retro models of Harley and she was digging it. The other person was a girl whom she knew nothing about, but was willing to find out more.

Her team won by three points, which was good enough, for the moment. The games were quick-paced and did not last longer than ten minutes. However, as soon as she got out of the pool, she felt her heart beating fast.

"Well, that was a work-out." She stated, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a sip.

A few more rounds of the game and it was already half past two at night. Dan finally told everyone they could go and five seconds later he was all alone by the pool. Everyone was drenched out of energy and had left in a hurry.

A lot of the trainees had athletic backgrounds, but given that the Academy started at the end of the Summer, many people came relaxed and chill. Some had, however, worked their ass off all Summer long, so they could get into the Academy in a great shape. Angie was one of those.

The next morning, as the clock hit 7 am, Dan's voice startled everyone in their sleep.

_"__Trainees, report to the auditorium at 7:30."_ He announced cheerfully. Of course he would be all refreshed and happy-sounding - he didn't even have to put a finger under water the night before. All he ever did was bark out orders and that was, doubtfully, an energy-sucking activity.

"I will find that loudspeaker and I will smash it!" Amanda roared from under the covers.

"Man, you really are _not_ a morning person." Angie chuckled and hopped out of bed. Being so quick to wake up in the morning had its advantages – she had the whole bathroom to herself until Amanda would finally get out of bed and kick her out of there.

* * *

"Guys, I know I said we'll do this at lunch, but plans have changed. Emily is now coming to lunch with us, so we need to do this _now_." JJ announced the moment she walked in the bullpen, making sure Emily's office door was shut closed, so she wouldn't be able to overhear anything from upstairs.

"Now? I haven't had time to think about it, JJ." Garcia whined.

"Brainstorming is proven 74,5% more effective when done under time pressure." Reid announced, in typical Reid fashion.

"Please, be my guest then." Luke said teasingly, making everyone look at Reid curiously.

"Fine. All I could think about was the jet. It would meet the budget requirements. There. I said it." Reid rolled his eyes and shifted uncomfortably.

He would hate to say goodbye to the jet, where a very special friend of his, SSA Derek Morgan, had created a hidden book-shelf underneath Reid's favorite seat, in the back of the plane. It gave him the perfect excuse to retreat and relax on his own, before or after a case. He loved his little piece of Heaven like JJ loved her window seat.

"I hate to admit it, but he's not completely wrong." Rossi threw his hands in the air in mock surrender. Everyone knew how much the jet meant to him. He had personally sponsored its acquisition with money he had earned from one of his bestselling books on criminal profiling.

"No way, Rossi!" JJ was about to agree with what Reid said, until she took Rossi's perspective into consideration. "We all know how you paid the remaining bit of the price, so we can get an amazing jet like that, rather than a small rusty airplane. The Bureau has failed us when it came to financing our jet, so now there is no way we are going to sacrifice the jet that you fought so hard for, in order to meet their new budget requirements. We are people, too. We won't budge in under pressure. We'll have to find another way."

"She's right." Garcia chewed the top of her new unicorn pen until the horn of the poor animal snapped in two. It made her feel even more upset. "And I'm most definitely not being partial, since I barely ever get on the plane. So, it would make sense for me to say that I want it gone, but I don't, because I know how much it means to you, guys."

Luke's hand touched Garcia's shoulder very lightly, stopping her from going into another one of her huge emotional rants.

"What if we cut costs in accommodation?" Tara suggested. She had previous experience working at a travel agency while in college, so she had a few tricks up her sleeve when it came to travelling on a budget.

"Yeah, we don't really need to have single rooms with poolside view, do we?" Matt added to Tara's suggestion.

"I'm not sleeping with either one of you." Reid said grumpily, his finger pointing at everyone, one at a time.

"That's okay, Spence." JJ smiled at him. "Emily, Tara and I wouldn't mind sharing a room. Garcia included, whenever she travels with us. Actually, Emily should probably have her single room, since she's the Unit Chief."

"Nah, she's a flock bird. She'll adapt." Rossi said confidently.

"Luke and I have shared a room many times before. We don't mind. Rossi is welcome to join, if he wants. So is Reid, but he doesn't want to." Matt suggested.

"I appreciate my own space, but I would be willing to try sharing it with a bunch of muscular young guys, if that would help Emily in any way." Rossi was playing hard to get, but in reality he wouldn't mind spending more quality time with the boys. In some ways, they reminded him of himself, when he was a young Agent.

"Oh, goodie. Lots of cheese platters 'bout to happen. Yay!" Garcia said enthusiastically.

Wine and cheese platters were the girls' thing. Maybe hop in the hot tub, get a little tipsy, talk about boys, just about anything that would help them relax after a long day on the job. The guys had never been invited and they would never admit how much that fact bothered them.

"That's good so far, but it wouldn't be enough." JJ cringed. In her short time of being Unit Chief when Hotch was temporarily out of duty, she has had to deal with accommodations and she knew the costs. Making a mental calculation, she realized the cut they had just agreed on was not even amounting to a third of what they had to reach.

"I guess…" Garcia's voice changed into a bit more preoccupied one. "I guess I could come up with something to cut costs from my gadgets. I mean, I really don't need _all_ of them. I _like_ them. But I don't _need_ them. I think. I mean, yeah, some of them I do need, because they are my hacky-packy best pals in the cybercrime fighting world, but I can surely think of something to leave behind so I can cost the team less money."

"This is really sweet of you, Garcia." JJ squeezed Garcia's hand gently. She knew how attached Garcia was to her toys and her electronic gadgets, so this was a huge sacrifice for her to make.

After a long moment of silence, everyone came to the conclusion that, despite their good suggestions, this was still not even a half of what they were expected to cut and they had about two days to figure it out.

"Maybe we can do this again tomorrow morning, huh? Fresh new day, fresh new ideas." Tara suggested and, to her surprise, an unexpected voice replied to her.

"Do what?" Emily appeared from her office, now looking down at the whispering circle that they had formed up.

The team was caught off guard and everyone did something odd.

Reid started whistling quietly, which was his tell for whenever he was telling a lie; Rossi pretended to be looking for something on top of Luke's desk and everyone knew how neat and organized Rossi was, he always knew exactly here he had placed an object; Tara sat down and started rocking on a chair without realizing it wasn't actually supposed to move that way, it was just broken.

"Uh, we were talking about your improvised party yesterday. It was fun. We should do it more often." JJ smiled, but Emily was not buying it. Luckily for them, she had no time to care enough about finding out the truth.

The team then continued their morning, revising old cases and re-organizing their file cabinets and storage room, for the lack of anything more fulfilling to do.

Emily looked at the time on the right side corner of her phone and she hurried to the elevator.

* * *

"Good morning, trainees." Dan walked in the auditorium at 7:30 sharp. "By now you must have already learned something about each other, but now it is time for us to learn more about _you_. I hope you're ready, because your polygraphs are starting right now. We have five noise-isolated cabins down the hallway, so we will call for five of you at a time. The rest of you are staying in the auditorium and, for your entertainment, we have a series of aptitude tests for you to take on your own. No group work allowed. My good friend Ramona is going to keep you company, and by that I mean that she would keep an eye out for any cheating going on during the tests. Enjoy!"

Five names appeared on the screen behind the desk where Ramona, a brunette in her 40's, was sitting.

None of the four friends' names turned up in the first bunch.

Angie shivered nervously in her seat.

"Relax. It won't hurt." Bryan reassured her, sensing how tense she was.

"I'm not afraid of the test." She failed to ooze her usual confidence.

After about half an hour, the second batch of names turned up on the screen. One of those was Angie's.

She inhaled sharply and Bryan could swear he saw her face turn white for a split second.

Somehow, she successfully reached the room down the hall without stumbling. The whole point of taking the test was to be calm enough to pass it, but she was, for some reason, quite nervous.

"Angela Hunter, Please, take a seat." She heard a warm, soft, female voice from inside one of the cabins.

Angie took a few steps in and exhaled. She didn't realize how long she had been keeping the air in her lungs. It felt good to breathe out and take a fresh new breath.

Suddenly, her worries went away and she was left with a heart that was beating way too fast.

"I advise you to stay still while he preps you for the test." The female said softly while a guy walked towards them.

"Relax and think of something soothing." She kept on talking since, for once in her life, Angie was completely mute.

"Maybe Paris. How about Paris? Have you ever been there?" The woman smiled as she saw Angie comply and even close her eyes, to facilitate the relaxing process. God know she needed to calm down.

Angie inhaled and exhaled sharply, but her heartbeat was slowly starting to go back to normal.

A random guy cornered Angie, grabbing her hand and fixing some gadget on her finger, prepping her for the test that would determine if she was going to stay in the Academy or not.

"Think about Paris…" The woman said, as soon as she felt Angie was getting tense again, at the presence of a third person.

"Imagine a beautiful sunny day in May. It's about 17 degrees outside and you're wearing a pair of black jeans and a white crop top with a leather jacket on top. A red foulard hangs around your neck and your matching red Chanel lipstick could not make you look any more Parisian." The woman continued. "You are happy, because you are meeting someone. You take a bus and get off at Les Écoles, so you can walk the extra distance and grab yourself your favorite coffee and a croissant. You walk down the street and catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the beauty shops' mirrors. You are smiling. Relaxed. Happy. Excited. Soon, you arrive where you need to be. You are at a very familiar place. Look up…"

Angie's head tilted upwards and she didn't even realize it. The softness of the voice who narrated this story was too soothing, it had almost hypnotized her, transferring her into that imaginary scene.

The woman smirked. "What do you see?"

"La Fontaine Médicis." Angie said with an impressive French accent.

"Look down." The woman said. "Now, take a few steps forward and look around. What do you see?"

Angie gulped, but did not reply.

"What you see, is it making you feel anxious? Happy? Mad?" The woman sat back in her chair.

"Everything…" Angie's reply made no sense even after she elaborated on it. "It makes me feel everything. And nothing. But mostly everything."

The woman had to work very hard at suppressing a laugh.

"The thing you see, is it an object? A person? An animal?" She asked.

"Object, no." Angie bit her bottom lip. "Person, yes. Animal, oh definitely!" A bit of aggression came out in her voice with her last statement.

"Does this half person half animal make you feel secure?" To a normal person this whole conversation would look completely dumb, but to someone who had spent years training to get under people's skin and to understand their minds, it was a strategy. And it worked.

"Yes." Angie smiled, her eyes still shut. "Always has. Always will."

"Good." The woman nodded and she smiled as well.

"We're good to go, SSA Prentiss." The guy who was prepping Angie for the test, announced, looking at the female sitting across Angie.

Emily took a moment to get her own self back to calm mode before she continued.

"Now, I need you to open your eyes and work with me here." She said and Angie complied immediately. "Keep that mystic creature in mind. Think about it. Give it a name if you want to."

"Layla." Angie did not even have to think about her answer. "It's not her name, but call her Layla."

Emily bit her lip, hearing that name. "Okay. Now, let's start. You know how this goes. All I need you to do is to be calm and to reply honestly. If you're having a hard time replying to any of my questions with a simple Yes or No, just let me know and I will paraphrase it."

Angie nodded.

"Is your name Angela Hunter?"

"Yes."

Emily checked the screen where Angie's replies would register either at the Truth or the Lie section. This one hit Truth and Emily smiled.

"Are you at least 23 years old?"

This was a question every trainee had to answer, since the FBI did not allow people under the age of 23 to join the Academy.

"As of two days ago, uh-huh. I've checked the FBI guidelines before applying. It is perfectly fine to apply before the age of 23, since the selection process takes ages, as long as you are 23 when you start the Academy and, luckily for me, I am!"

"Yes or No answers only." Emily reminded her.

"Oh, sorry." Angie shrugged and felt a little stupid. She knew the rules. "Yes."

This hit right in the Truth section, as well.

"Have you ever been involved in any kind of government organization?"

"No." Angie said very calmly and the monitor showed it to be the truth.

"Do you have any criminal history?"

Angie shivered unwillingly.

"Layla…" Emily moved forward and whispered almost inaudibly.

At her words, Angie regained her groove.

"No." She said, sitting straight up and showing a sudden boost of confidence.

"Have you ever had a dependence on alcohol or any legal or illegal substances?"

"No."

"Have you ever killed someone?"

That question was definitely not something Angie had read about when she was getting ready to apply to the FBI.

"No…" She replied, her voice sounding confused.

Emily touched something on the screen and when she looked at the results, they hit the center of the Truth section.

A few more dull questions in and Angie was a pro. She replied quickly and with confidence. Most of those questions she already knew about, she had done extensive research before joining the FBI. _Very_ extensive research.

"Last question." Emily announced. "Are you willing to do whatever it takes to join the FBI and to serve this country with integrity?"

"Absolutely!" Angie's face was full of hope. That tiny bow in her hair made her look so innocent, but the fire in her eyes and the drive in her heart showed how determined she was and, to Emily, that was inspiring.

"Sorry! I meant to say YES!" She corrected herself once she realized the machine hadn't taken into consideration her previous reply.

"Good. We're done here. Congratulations, you have passed with flying colors. Not a single lie detected." Emily smirked.

"Thank you, SSA Hotness." The words just rolled out of her tongue before she could realize what she was saying. Damn Bryan had used that nickname one too many times and it got stuck in Angie's head.

"Well, I should be the one thanking you, beautiful young lady." Emily brushed her hand through her hair in a very feminine and coquette way, taking that as a compliment.

Angie nearly waltzed back to the auditorium, trying not to start singing along, in rhythm with her dance-like footsteps.


	9. You Did WHAT To Emily?

** CHAPTER 9**

_**YOU DID **_**WHAT**_** TO EMILY?**_

After assisting with Angie's polygraph, Emily got a call that she said was quite urgent, so she had someone else step in and take over the next tests for the day.

In reality, it had been Garcia, asking in advance if Emily wanted them to bring her lunch. Emily's reply was that she would be joining the team for lunch, after all. She knew that they were worried and she tried to make time for them, no matter how busy she was.

By the time Emily got back to her office, it was almost 10 am. That gave her only about two more hours to work until she could have a pizza. She would never admit it, but pizza was life, in her opinion. If she was with a cute guy, out on a date, she might slip and order something with quinoa or whatever else it was that the cool millennials considered healthy these days, but if she was on her own, it was pizza all day, every day. She worked out enough to be able to keep her body in shape, anyway.

At 12:30 Rossi texted her to come downstairs, as they were all ready to leave for their 12:45 reservation at an Italian restaurant, just right out of the government property lines.

"Benvenuti!" A petit Italian waiter welcomed them and showed them to their table.

"Io prendo, come di solito, la mia pizza preferita – Diavola." Emily's Italian accent was invidious. Even Rossi thought so and he was, actually, Italian. Well, of Italian heritage anyway, but he grew up with the culture and, most importantly, the cuisine.

"Oh, Prentiss. I'd be worried if you didn't order _that_." Tara laughed.

While everyone was open to trying new things, to Emily this one pizza was all she ever wanted. Chilly salami and melted cheese on top. Yum!

Everyone ordered their food and when it came to drinks, they all sighed, ordering a bunch of mineral water bottles for the table. They still had to go back to the office, so there was no way they could consume any alcohol.

"So, Emily…" JJ started and met instant disapproval.

"Come on, guys. Couldn't you wait until I was finished?" Emily pouted. She had just nibbled on her first piece of the pizza and she could barely feel its taste on her tongue before she heard the beginning of yet another intervention.

"Honestly, no." JJ shrugged, not giving a crap if her honesty came off as rude. "We've been thinking and we came up with a few ideas on budget cuts."

JJ then poured a summary of their earlier conversation and Emily raised an eyebrow.

"You're all okay with this?" Emily questioned, specifically because she knew how much Garcia loved her electronics and her unlimited access to everything that was online.

Five sets of eyes got glued to Garcia and, when she finally got the clue, she muttered out a reply. "Ye-…Yeah."

"I scribbled down something…" JJ pulled a folder out of her bag and she started placing numerous papers on the table until one of them was practically on top of Tara's pizza, as there was no space left to put it.

"That is what a detailed first script of either one of my best-sellers looks like." Rossi laughed, pointing out the extensive amount of research and writing that JJ had done since that morning.

"Here, this amounts to about half of what we are asked to cut. The other half we have already decided on – no intern this year. See? All set. Now, all we need is your signature, here, here, here and right here. Oh and here. And here." JJ kept on pointing random places on the papers and everyone realized that this was not just something she had scribbled down in a hurry. This was the actual nine-page proposal that Emily was supposed to have written herself.

Emily did not seem impressed. Or maybe she was simply not convinced. As JJ held out a pen and pointed out the blank spaces where Emily's name and signature had to go, Emily distracted herself by cutting her pizza and feeding herself tiny pieces.

"Earth to Emily?" Garcia waved her hand in front of her boss.

"Guys, I appreciate your efforts…" Emily trailed off.

"Uh-oh, there is a _but_ coming." Garcia's usual smile turned into a frown.

"However…" Emily got out of this situation quite smoothly. "I've also given it some thought. A lot, actually. And having no intern this year is no longer an option."

"What? But, Emily, an intern, however nice it is to have one, costs the BAU a lot of money. We cannot afford that right now." JJ frowned. She liked having a fresh perspective on the cases and it was often quite fun to have someone stir up the dynamics of their little family, but even _she_ had to admit that they were in no position to welcome anyone this year.

"I know. I have a different plan of action." Emily said calmly.

"She's filing for a major cut on her salary, so we can keep our privileges." Reid could not hold it in anymore. JJ had been giving him looks ever since they sat on the table. He looked like he desperately needed to pee, with all the fidgeting that was happening on his chair. Clearly, there was another reason for it.

"It's really _your_ fault that you held those papers in front of your chest as you walked to the elevator earlier. It's definitely not _my_ fault that I am a genius who can read fast, from a far and in any position." Reid shrugged and his confidence made Luke smirk. He had been waiting for the day that Spencer Reid got his groove on.

"Guys, it's not a big deal. Really. It's just money. I have enough in my savings account." Emily spoke as if it weren't a big deal, but the truth was, in order to meet the new standards, she would have to get paid about a quarter of her salary. And there was no time limit for that. It could be temporary, but it could also go on forever.

"No. You've worked too hard for this." Matt refused to agree with her.

"Yeah, if you sacrifice a chunk of your salary, so will we!" Garcia's statement met five heads that nodded in agreement.

"I'm the Unit Chief. It is _my_ responsibility to fix this. It's also _my_ fault we are in this situation." Her tongue ran over the side of her bottom lip and it was the most Emily Prentiss thing she could do.

"Water?" Garcia offered with a small smile, grabbing Emily's glass, even though it was still more than halfway full.

JJ then started to rant about something else and everyone turned their attention back to their food, not wanting to argue with Emily any further.

An hour went by and so did their lunch break. Emily insisted on offering the lunch, since it was probably one of the last days she could go around with her head held high and her bank statement not near the zero. Yes, she did have savings in her bank, but she never touched those. Emily's life had always been complicated and thus, she had learned to have a good chunk of cash, safely tucked in a bank somewhere, ready to be used in extreme situations only.

On their way back, Garcia urged Luke to drive Emily's car. She justified that weird request with Emily's bad driving skills and the fact that Garcia sometimes got car-sick. Emily did not want to scrub anyone's vomit from the back seat, so she simply handed Luke the keys and took the passenger's side. JJ drove the other car.

As they got out of the cars, Rossi noticed Emily being a little flimsy. He did not question it. Maybe it was just all the pressure messing with her.

It was when Emily tried to swipe her credit card in the elevator, instead of her FBI badge, that Rossi started to get a little worried and decided to keep an eye on her.

Everyone went to their desks and Emily walked up to her office.

For the next couple of hours everything seemed normal. That was until Rossi tried calling Emily, as he needed her opinion on an old case they had worked on a year ago. Emily did not pick up. He could hear her phone ring continuously in her office, yet there was no answer. He knew her well enough to know that she hated the sound of a ringing phone. If she was unable to talk, she would hang up, which always drove him mad, but she would never let the phone go on fire like that.

"Garcia, did you notice anything weird with Emily today?" He asked as he saw Garcia walk past him, on her way to re-fill her unicorn mug with hot water for the sixth cup of tea that day.

"Huh? No. Not at all. Not really. No. Why? No. No, no." She replied lamely and hurried back to her office, forgetting all about her tea.

"Has everyone around here lost their mind?" Rossi rolled his eyes.

JJ, being a protégé of Garcia's when it came to eavesdropping, overheard Rossi's concern and disappeared very subtly.

"OH MY GOD!" JJ screamed from upstairs, a minute later.

"Shh!" Garcia was one step behind her.

She pushed JJ further in, as she was stood by the door, speechless, and then she closed and locked the door behind them.

"EMILY!?" JJ said in panic, walking slowly to where her boss was, laying on the floor, with a drop of blood next to her head.

"Calm down, JJ. Shut up. Okay!?" Garcia kept up with JJ's pace and put a hand over her mouth, as to prevent her from screaming one more time.

"Calm down? Don't you see what I see?" JJ was freaking out by that point. "Oh, Emily. What did you do? Oh my God, what happened? Oh my God. Oh God. Emily? Emily, please wake up? Emily?"

Garcia sat down on Emily's chair, because, why not? Emily was clearly not using it at the moment. She chewed on the first thing that she found, which was Emily's new rubber phone case.

"How can you be so damn calm, Garcia!? Call for help!" JJ's face turned white and she felt a sudden and very hard to overcome wave of nausea.

This scene reminded her of vivid images she had been trying to erase from her mind since the age of 11. Garcia knew it, which is why she felt so incredibly guilty.

"She'll be fine." She muttered.

"How can you be sure? We don't even know what she took. God, there's blood. Oh my God, there is blood. Garcia, there is blood!" JJ kept on freaking out, not even daring to touch Emily's body.

"I heard you the first time." Garcia said cockily. "Look, JJ, I have a confession."

"Go to church, Garcia! And on your way there, call an ambulance!" JJ could stay calm in any situation in life, except for when the life and well-being of her friends and family was at question. It was then when she freaked out the most.

"JJ…" Garcia knelt down by her side and pushed a strand of sweaty blond hair away from her colleague's ear before whispering something that was barely audible and thus, so hard to comprehend.

"You did _what_ to Emily!?" JJ shouted at the top of her lungs and the white color on her face was slowly being replaced with red, fiery red, fuming red.


	10. 911, What's Your Emergency?

** CHAPTER 10**

_**911, WHAT'S YOUR EMERGENCY?**_

"I drugged her." Garcia repeated, this time in a tone just above a whisper.

"Why on Earth would you do that?" JJ threw her hands in the air, unsure if that was a subconscious wish of hers to slap the crap out of her friend.

"Everyone liked your proposal and Emily was having none of it. You know how she is!" Garcia's teeth finally chopped off a chunk of the phone case. Her anxiety was making her animal instincts rise up and she could not contain them. It was soft, cheap plastic, a taste of which she'd have in her mouth for the rest of the day. "I just wanted to buy us some time. I figured if I just put her for a nap, she would wake up with a clear mind and agree with us. That, or we could have forged her signature with her own hand, while she slept."

"A nap? She is not a child!" JJ argued, finally getting the courage to touch Emily.

A small dent on the side of Emily's forehead was the source of the blood. She must have hit herself on the desk when she had fainted.

JJ nudged Emily, but there was no response. The only vital sign she was giving off was her breathing and yet, it was a bit too uneven to be within the normal.

"What did you even give her?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know. _This_." Garcia pulled a microscopic liquid container from her bra, where she had hidden it at lunch, right after spiking Emily's water.

The unusual hiding place did not phase JJ at all.

"How much of it did you give her?" She asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"This much." Garcia pointed at the tiny container.

"What, the _whole_ thing?" JJ's jaw dropped and she was already dialing something on her phone.

"911, what's your emergency?" A male voice responded.

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau with the FBI. I need immediate ambulance and medical help. One of the agents has, unintentionally, taken 10 milligrams of doxepin hydrochloride in a very small quantity of water. She also has insignificant bleeding on her forehead, I suppose from when she collapsed."

"Miss, are you sure you have the right drug name and dose?" The guy had some medical training and he was surprised to hear all of that.

"Unfortunately, yes. Please, hurry." JJ said shortly before they hung up.

"Girls, is everything okay?" Rossi was now in front of the office and that was the last thing the girls needed.

"Yes, just some girl talk going on." JJ lied and Garcia felt like her heart skipped a beat. What if she had come clean?

"We need to get the team out of here, so we can move Emily downstairs, for the paramedics." JJ whispered to Garcia.

"Move her? Don't they do the whole thing? Moving, healing, reviving, you know, paramedics stuff."

"Well, if you think it would be better for the whole FBI to see Emily Prentiss, unconscious, being rolled out on a stretcher, then be it."

"Oh shoot, I hate it when you're right." Garcia cringed, feeling a weird rubber taste on her lips, from when she had munched on Emily's phone case.

JJ walked downstairs, keeping her cool-

"Emily just suggested a team work out. Why don't you go get everyone and meet us at the gum, huh?" JJ had to think on her feet and that was the only plausible excuse to get everyone out of the office. Mostly everyone, anyway. Reid would only ever step foot in a gym if he was literally lured into it with a first edition, signed book, by one of his favorite authors.

Rossi sensed that something was going on, but he did what JJ said, anyway. There was no reason for her to lie to him, after all. Was there?

From the corner of a window Garcia saw the moment when everyone left the bullpen and took the elevator. It was then that the ambulance had arrived.

"On three…" JJ commanded, picking Emily up from the left side.

"Wait, that was not three." Garcia whined as Emily's weight was now leaning towards her.

"Garcia, you have to put your hand underneath first and then we pick her up, on three." JJ let out a desperate sigh. This would be harder than she thought.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I woke up this morning in a pretty good mood. I made myself some tea and had wonderful cinnamon biscuits while watching a re-run of my favorite TV show. I also made the time to make a list of all the things I want to achieve today and, mind you, picking up Emily's lifeless body was _not_ one of them!" She stated, still trying to figure out exactly where her hands should go and whether she should push or pull. Was it _on_ three or _after_ three? Like, what were the rules?

"Lifeless body? Garcia, she's not dead." It was JJ's turn to whine. "One, two…"

"Oh, you know what I mean." With those words, Garcia learned that it was time to push. It was _on_ three, for the record.

* * *

The polygraph testing went on all day long. The trainees who were done with their aptitude tests earlier were kindly invited to go to the gym and train some more. Angie started with a little run around the premises, so to get her cardio done before she would do some pushups with everyone else.

She heard a siren and then an ambulance whisked by her side, on its way to the main building. She found it a bit weird that it went to the underground parking lot, instead of parking at the main entrance, but she really did not think much of it. Maybe some agent was experiencing post-battle effects and they needed to be checked. She shrugged and kept on running.

When she walked in the gym, she was all sweaty and ready to work out some more. Bryan and a few other guys had decided to go outside and create their own routine to follow, so Angie joined them. The weather was beautiful, it was nice and warm, but not hot, and also, there was not much humidity in the air. It was the perfect transition day from Summer to Autumn. The first few leaves had started to fall from the trees and the path where she had taken the run, had looked quite like a fairy tale. Angie was a bit of a dreamer, she liked princess castles and tiaras. Well, it was to be expected from a girl who never left the house without a hair accessory. It was her signature. People often called her childish. She did not care.

"We heard a rumor that the first cut is happening at the end of week one." Bryan said while stretching.

"I thought they didn't do cuts until the end of week two?" One of the other guys said disapprovingly.

"They usually don't. But this year is full of surprises. Buckle up, boys." Angie somehow always found the strength to smile.

* * *

JJ and Garcia walked by the paramedic's side as he pushed Emily's stretcher towards the ER. He had kept on asking JJ if she was sure about the dosage and Garcia confirmed that she had poured the whole bottle, which was 10ml total. The doctor who took over informed them that this was a very powerful anti-depressant drug that was sometimes used to cure insomnia, as well, but Emily had taken a bit more than the advised amount, and also, with no medical prescription whatsoever. That dose was the maximum daily dose for extreme cases, which, Emily was not.

"But it seemed so little in the bottle… It was, like, two tiny drops." Garcia felt like an idiot. She had no intention of hurting Emily. All she wanted to achieve was to give her boss a few hours of sleep. It would have actually been good for her to get some rest, since lately she spent an estimate of about 23 hours a day working.

JJ chose not to reply. She was beyond pissed at Garcia and any word that would come out of her mouth at that moment, would have been a word she'd regret later on.

Rossi texted JJ, asking when they would be joining them at the gym, and she simply replied that they had changed their minds and had gone out for a walk instead. It did not sit well with him.

"How is she?" JJ jumped out of her seat as she saw the doctor walk out of the room where Emily had been put in.

"You were very lucky that she had just had a really good meal, otherwise there would be some pretty bad side effects to the drug. She's stable now, still knocked out for the rest of the night, but other than that, she will be fine. There might still be some side effects, but she seems healthy and I'm sure she will not have many problems with those." He spoke while glancing at Emily's chart.

"What side effects?" Garcia was afraid to ask.

"Well, since this treats insomnia, and she is not suffering from that, it might cause the opposite effect. She might not be able to fall asleep as easily. Also, some light nausea and headache, but that is normal. If she is under particular stress, those side effects might be heightened." He said sincerely before walking off to tend to his next patient.

"Oh, she's screwed." Garcia sat down on the nearest chair she found and she buried her face in her hands.

No matter how pissed JJ was, she could not help but take care of her.

"Come on." She sat down beside her, giving her a warm hug and rubbing her back with her left hand. "You didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"No, of course I didn't. But I should have just let you guys deal with it. I shouldn't have tried to do anything." When Garcia started to blame herself, there was usually no convincing her that she was innocent. She had a colorful mind of her own.

"You are part of this team. Of course you had the right to do something. Well, you did an incredibly dumb thing, but at least you tried to help and you had only pure intentions. That is plausible."

"Yeah? Tell that to Emily right now." She challenged her and no more words were spoken.

Both of them stayed at the hospital all night long, not even thinking about the possibility of leaving Emily there on her own, even if they were not going to be allowed to see her until visiting hours, the day after.


	11. I Believe You Have Been Benched

** CHAPTER 11**

_**I BELIEVE YOU HAVE BEEN BENCHED**_

Friday morning, 6 am, Dan's voice had just oh-so-kindly woken up the trainees, informing them that they would be having actual lectures today. First up – physical training from 6:30 to 8, followed by 30 minutes of relaxing, shower, change and a light run to the auditorium, since nobody had the super powers to do all that in such a short time.

Angie was ready first, so she let Amanda take her time while she hurried out.

Angela was a night owl. She often referred to herself as a vampire. She loved the darkness, the inability to see clearly around herself, the need to open her eyes a bit wider and to use all of her senses, in order to get oriented in the pitch black that surrounded her. At home, she would never switch a lamp on, the most she ever used were her favorite fairy lights, or a little led lamp in the cases where she was reading until late.

Another thing about her – she really enjoyed books. And no, not the digital format ones that the cool kids read on their Kindle, in the subway. Angie loved actual books, the ones made of paper, and the more yellow it was, the better. It spoke to its authenticity. She found the smell of greasy finger stains on old paper mesmerizing. She also found the idea of being more intelligent than the average human being, in diverse areas of interest, absolutely marvelous. She was not a nerd, not that she would ever admit to being one anyway, but she was pretty close to it.

She did not own too many books, actually, barely any. She preferred to go to the library, maybe meet someone equally as interested in something, while searching the shelves. Often, she would go without a clue what she wanted to read, and she would come out with a huge smile on her face and a bag, full of books, that were often more than half her body weight.

When it came to her interests, there were no limits. She had read a lot about astrology, medicine, pediatrics, architecture, business management, finance, urban and extra urban infrastructure, agriculture, animals, but the one thing she would always prefer, above all of those, was criminology. She was fascinated with it from an early age, to the point where it was disturbingly weird. What other people thought of her, luckily for her, has never bothered her, though.

And yet, she also loved the mornings, those early mornings, especially when the weather was nice. That day gifted her one of these mornings. She stepped outside the dorms and let the faint light hit her face. It was twilight, the sun wouldn't be rising for an hour, so it was the perfect compromise between the night and the day. As if it were a fairy tale, she heard birds chirping and saw a few of them hop from one tree to another. Looking up, she saw a leaf falling down so graciously. It swayed left and right, being pushed by the gentle morning breeze, and it fell slowly, rising up a few times and whirling around, before it finally hit the ground. She smiled, the back-and-forth movements reminded her of the Viennese Waltz and Angie, being somewhat of an old soul, loved ballroom dancing. She loved _dancing_, period.

"Good morning, FBI." She said to absolutely nobody. She was so deep into her own thoughts, seeing flash-forward scenes of herself in uniform, with the badge and the gun by her side, that she spoke out loud without really knowing she was doing so.

"Hey, weirdo, move!" Some guy yelled at her as he was jogging in her direction and she was now standing in the middle of the little pathway that lead to the forest.

"Can't wait for you to call for back-up someday, so I can be an ignorant bitch to you, too!" She yelled back at him, keeping in mind what that Emily person had said in her speech – they never knew who they would end up working with and whose hands they would have to put their lives in.

"Oops, never mind. That's instant Karma to you. My favorite kind." She smirked, watching the guy tumble on something and nearly face-plant to the ground. He had turned around to yell something smart back at her, when he failed to notice some pebbles on the ground and those had misbalanced him.

She had ten more minutes before she'd have to report to the outdoors training area, so she decided to wander around. Wherever Angie was, she loved exploring. She was a curious creature and she always wanted to know more, about everything.

Walking towards her destination, she looked left and right, spotting a few secluded places. One of those she would definitely have to re-visit, with a book in hand. There was a bench and a small table right in front of it. Both were made out of wood, and clearly very old, as little bits and pieces had literally been chopped off, leaving it all broken, uneven, used, old…and, in Angie's eyes, so damn perfect.

Another place she discovered was a small pond that she only managed to glance at from a far. There were a couple of trees right next to it, making it perfect for those sunny days when one would want to be outside, but still under the shade.

Maybe it was the fact that she had dreamed of the Academy for so long, but she found every single thing there to be extraordinary. Or maybe it was the fact that the world had roughly taught her to appreciate the little things in life.

"Shoot, that's not good." She muttered, checking the time and realizing it was 6:27, which only left her with three minutes to report to where she was asked to be.

"How do you even have the strength to go running before training, at this time of the day?" Bryan teased her when she approached the bunch of familiar faces, a few drops of sweat forming on her forehead.

"Apparently, I don't." She replied, breathlessly.

She had severely miscalculated the time and distance between things. On a map, the FBI property looked quite compact. In reality, however, it was quite a big chunk of territory, with the Academy alone occupying 547 acres, surrounded by fancy walls and fences. It felt so cool, like she was now living in a gated community, along with a whole bunch of other cool people.

"Alright, everyone…" Dan seemed awfully chipper. He must be a morning person. "Those ten Agents by my side are on active duty and they have kindly sacrificed their morning, to be with us and help us get in shape. So, please, make them proud."

There was something about Dan that Angie liked. He had a nice voice, that was a very important quality for Angie. She had a thing where she would not judge people by their appearance, but by their voice. A book she had read when she was twelve years old had taught her about timber, voice specifics and recognition, accents and more. But there was something else that made her feel good when Dan was around and it was definitely not physical attraction – the guy could be her father and Angie's fantasies were not even close to anything like that.

"Come on, guys. We can do this. We're the 6%." Angie smiled while stretching out her legs.

"Huh?" Bryan's roommate Jack said in confusion.

"Every year, only 6 percent of the applicants are accepted for basic training at the FBI Academy." She stated calmly. "I have a good feeling the graduation rate would be even lower this year."

"How could you sound so calm about that?" Bryan raised an eyebrow.

"Because I know for certain that _we_ are going to graduate." Her left hand went up to check if her pony tail was tight enough and if her tiny bow was in place. "That includes little Miss Amanda, too. God knows where she ended up…" She looked around the field, unable to spot her frenemy, and hoping that she hadn't fallen back asleep after Angie left the room.

Jack smiled, finding her optimism quite intriguing. She was, clearly, the youngest trainee this year, and yet the only thing that pointed to her young age was the bow. Apart from that, she acted and spoke like a grown up with major life experience behind their back. She kind of spoke with authority, like she gave the impression that she wasn't going to take anyone's crap. She was ironic, funny even, but her words inevitably hit the right spot and communicated the right message. People often chose against arguing with her, afraid of just how stubborn they'd find her out to be after an actual argument. She had her moments of giggles and banter as well, but for the most part, if someone got to know her, they would know that she was an incredibly smart, hard working and motivated person.

The trainees were divided into groups, each group doing a specific bunch of exercises at the assigned area on the field. Every thirty minutes, groups would swap areas, until two and a half hours later they had rotated them all and the training was finished.

A few lucky ones received personal feedback from their assigned Agent trainer, but when Angie heard nothing about herself, she simply asked for it.

"Excuse me, SA Lear, may I, please, get some feedback as well?" She said politely, approaching her trainer with a small smile.

The Agent looked her up and down and thought for a moment before she replied. "You have great stamina, your breathing is very well balanced through exercise and you are able to push yourself over your limits, without wearing yourself out."

Those words made Angie smile. She hadn't been fishing for compliments, but it surely felt good to receive them anyway.

"However, you lack upper-body strength, particularly in your arms. I saw you hold a perfect vertical for a minute earlier, but that is not enough. Your hands have to be able to support not only _your_ body strength, but also the one of a person much bigger than you." The woman who spoke was taller than Angie and much more well-built. That made her words sound even more intimidating.

"Let me put it this way: you have really good skills, but you have to work on perfecting them and getting even better. Imagine you're out on the field and another Agent gets hurt. Now imagine it is a man, a very big and heavy man. Not only are you left in battle with no back-up, but it is also your duty to get him out of the line of fire and find a secure place for him to wait for further back-up. How are you going to do that if you don't know if you are able to support more than your own body weight? What if you are hurt as well, and yet you have to help him anyway?" It all made perfect sense now.

"I understand, Madam. Thank you for your feedback and I would make sure to work on that. You were very helpful." Angie nodded in appreciation before she went to join her group of friends.

The woman shook her head. That girl was either taking the complete piss out of her with that choice of words, or she was extremely well educated and well-spoken. Plus, she had the courage to go to a superior and ask for something that she had been deprived of. That was admirable.

* * *

"How is she?" JJ ran down the hallway, rubbing her eyes as if she had been able to sleep that night.

"Stable. There is nothing to worry about." The doctor exhaled.

He had just started his morning shift and this blonde representation of the energizer bunny was still pacing around the hallway, just like when he had left her ten hours ago when he had clocked out after his previous shift.

"Except for the side effects?" JJ half-asked, half-stated, with a frown.

"Miss Jareau, I can assure you she will be just fine. All she needs is some time to relax, away from the office. Maybe she could take a small vacation, go somewhere, enjoy the sunshine, not worry about work…" He suggested.

"Yup, she's definitely screwed!" JJ couldn't help but say it out loud.

"Prentiss? Is Prentiss okay?" Garcia had just woken up by the sound of a familiar voice.

Attempting to stand up, she realized all of her muscles were tense and aching. She had slept in a plastic, stadium-like roll up chair, and it was giving her a bad case of memory attack from the day she had been forced to go support her step-brother at a five-hour long high-school rally and she had fallen asleep during the game.

"Can we see her?" JJ continued bugging the doctor who was now trying to take a step towards his next patient's room, for his morning check-up rounds. JJ was having none of it. She blocked his every attempt to move.

"No." He replied, taking one more step.

"Why not?" There was no letting go, as far as JJ was concerned. She stood right in front of him.

"Because visiting hours start from twelve." The doctor sighed, getting a bit irritated by this woman.

"But we are Federal Agents!" Garcia took a couple of steps forward, now standing right in his face, with her hands crossed in front of her chest and her FBI badge hanging from the side of her skirt.

"Look, you can't see her. Okay?" He insisted, only to meet two very scary female faces in front of him. He could feel Garcia's breath on his neck and that was probably a bit more weird, than scary.

"Please, have some patience. Go home, take a shower. Come back later, okay?" He tried to reason, extending his hands out as if to show them that he is not the enemy and that he was open to collaborating with them.

It was then that JJ took a deep breath and let it all out.

"Like she said, we are Federal Agents!" She started off. "If we can easily gain access to serial killers, under investigation, in a hospital, then we can surely go see and talk to our Unit Chief when we please. So, move!"

"You're really not going to drop it, are you?" To this question, he received two categorical nods in reply. "Fine, you can go _see_ her. But I'm afraid you cannot _talk_ to her right now."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Garcia stood immobile, trying to make sense of those words, while JJ was already sprinting to the door.

"I thought you said she was okay!?" JJ whined as she walked in and saw Emily.

"She is. She's just not…awake yet." The doctor shrugged a little bit and JJ realized that this must have been the reason why he did not want to let them see her yet.

"This is all my fault." Garcia paced from the door to the bed and back.

"Say that again and I will hide all of your mugs!" JJ's back leaned against the wall, opposite the bed.

"The dose was high. Her body is unable to work it off so quickly, so all we can do is wait for her to wake up naturally. It would be dangerous to try to wake her up, that would only accelerate the side-effects, if any should appear." The doctor explained and he finally found a moment when neither of the women was looking at him, so he left the room.

Their eyes were now fixed on Emily.

"She looks so helpless." Garcia pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down, gently stroking Emily's hand with one finger.

JJ groaned with annoyance when her phone buzzed.

"What is going on?" Rossi's voice said as soon as she picked up.

"Nothing. We had a girl's night out. We'll be a little late to work today. Emily, uhm, had a little too much to drink." JJ was a good liar, but her voice cracked a little and Rossi was already suspicious. Well, a part of her statement was true, so that really helped her conscious.

Rossi knew that there was no way Tara wouldn't have been present at a girls' night out, so, instead of calling JJ out, he did some digging of his own. Half an hour later, the doctor walked in Emily's room, with Rossi by his side.

"Mio Dio!" He exclaimed in Italian.

"It's not as bad as it looks." JJ bit her bottom lip.

Of course Rossi would have been able to track Emily through hospital records. This was the hospital most Agents went to, so it was only a question of a simple phone call and he had found out where Emily was.

"It's _my_ fault." Garcia had never let go of Emily's hand since they walked in the room, while JJ had kept her distance, afraid that if she stood any closer, she would start balling her eyes out.

"Garcia, the mugs!" JJ reminded her threateningly, and it was the best way to shut her up.

"Let me explain…" JJ continued a little more softly, now turning to face Rossi and telling him what had happened.

"Garcia, why would you do that?" Disapproval oozed from Rossi's voice, but when he saw how nervous the poor woman looked, he decided to go easy on her.

"You need to go home and get some rest." JJ pointed a finger at Garcia.

"Oh, because you don't?" She tried to be cocky, but it wasn't working.

"I believe you have been benched." Rossi re-enforced JJ's statement - Garcia had to go.


	12. I Won't Hurt The Mugs, I'll Hurt You!

** CHAPTER 12**

_**I WON'T HURT THE MUGS. I'LL HURT YOU!**_

After the training, it was time to study. At 8:29 Angie was already sitting in what would turn out to be her signature seat for the rest of the Academy – front row and center.

She opened her notebook and made sure she was ready to take notes. Soon, Bryan, Jack and Amanda surrounded her, with Amanda smartly pointing out that those were the "nerd seats". To that, Angie had replied that she sat there strategically, so that everyone else would be behind her, so they could look at her pretty bow all day long and that would give them some good vibes. That, or they could kiss her ass, being way behind her.

"Is there _anything_, anything at all in this world, that could actually make your blood boil? Or are you just chill about everything?" Bryan whispered to her right after that.

"Yes." She smiled innocently. "But I won't tell you what it is."

"Tease!" His elbow nudged her and it made her giggle.

Their first lecture started and it was on criminology, brushing up on the basics and quickly getting into specifics. They were all required to have at least the basic knowledge in that field, so the lecture went on pretty smoothly and quite fast.

All trainees received an e-mail from their professor, containing all sorts of required reading for the course, some power point presentations that he would be using and, what made Angie most excited – a due date for the final test, along with a detailed summary of the course expectations.

"What are you doing?" Bryan asked curiously, watching her put a check sign in front of most of the required books.

"I've already read those." She replied calmly.

"Nerd!" Amanda had become much more open to Angie, but apparently, snappy remarks were of nature to her.

"Thank you." Angie said with pride.

Dan popped by at the end of the lecture, informing them that, at 3:30 pm, they were finally allowed to go get lunch. Most of them did not get the chance to grab food between training and the morning class, so to say that they were famished would be a huge understatement.

After lunch they would come back to the auditorium for the second part of the same criminology lecture before having to gather up at 10 pm outside the dorm rooms, for an activity that Dan refused to give them any sort of information about.

Angie's proposal for healthy lunch had been trumped over by her three friends, so she had to give in and follow them to the canteen instead. To her surprise, there were quite many healthy options to choose from. After checking the menu very carefully, twice, she ended up with a huge piece of lasagna on her plate, on her way to find a free table for four.

"I thought you only ate healthy." Jack teased her, watching her sprawl grated cheese on top of her dish, like there was no tomorrow.

"I never said that." She only stopped when there was very little cheese left in the jar. Maybe someone else would need it, too. "I only said that we _need_ to eat healthy. But, you see, in life there is pizza, then there is food. Pizza trumps everything. And yet, sometimes there is lasagna. Then lasagna trumps everything, with pizza being close second." She laughed at her own statement.

"Nevermind, sorry I asked." Jack rolled his eyes. Much like Bryan, he never really figured out how a woman's brain worked.

"I liked that first class." Bryan changed the topic.

"I didn't. It was quite boring, we are already required to know all of that stuff. I hope the pace gets picked up from now on." Angie said after chewing the first bit of her lasagna and savoring its taste.

"Oh, it will." Jack smirked and Angie found that to be suspicious, but she didn't comment on it.

* * *

"Finally!" JJ whispered, seeing Emily open her eyes.

She had been there with Rossi all day long and Emily had not moved a muscle.

"Am I dead again?" Emily looked around and saw everything white, with an irritating bright light pointing right in her forehead.

"Again?" Her colleague found that question to be very oddly specific.

"What happened? Why am I here? Where am I?" Emily tried to sit up in the bed, but her muscles failed her. She did not have the strength to move.

Rossi looked at JJ. It was partially _her_ mess, so it was _her_ responsibility to break it to Emily.

"Garcia did _what_!?" Emily gasped when she heard the end of JJ's story.

"Yeah, that was our reaction to it, too." Literally, both JJ and Rossi had said the same words.

"I need to go back to the office. I only have two more days until the deadline." Typically of her, her mind was on the job.

"You are not going anywhere. The doctor prescribed a lot of rest." Rossi spoke, once again allowing JJ to break some more news to her.

"Also, now you only have _one_ day left. It is Friday afternoon. So, yeah…" JJ shrugged.

"What? Oh good Lord, have mercy upon my soul!" Emily rolled her eyes, because no matter how hard it was to move any muscle of her body, she would always be able to roll her eyes. It had taken her years, but she had finally perfected that task, to the point where it was now second nature to her.

"How is it Friday yet? It was just Thursday, we had lunch." She argued, but decided to just drop it.

"Is there anything you want us to bring to you?" JJ figured Emily would be hungry, thirsty, maybe she would like a fresh batch of clothes to change into.

"Garcia!" Emily replied. "And a gun!"

"Come on, Prentiss. She never meant to harm you." Rossi couldn't help but defend the poor woman. Earlier, she had left the hospital, crying. It broke his heart.

"How long do I have to stay here for?" She said, finally getting some tactile sense in her hands, so she could move them around and feel a little more alive.

"The doctor was waiting for you to wake up, so he can run a few tests and then he could answer that question." JJ informed her while checking her phone.

"Great. Just marvelous." Emily grunted and decided to pretend to be sleepy again, so that she could convince both of them to get out of the room and give her some privacy.

If she had to be honest with herself, she did not care at all about the whole spiking her drink part of the conversation. Garcia was a sweetheart and she would never harm anyone, so if she did something to Emily, it would not have been with bad intentions. Yes, the consequences sucked, but Emily got to sleep through a whole night without waking up, shaking and sweaty from her nightmares. She was actually kind of happy Garcia had been so reckless.

* * *

After the second part of the lecture, the trainees went back to the dorms to get ready for the evening. Angie was not sure how she could prepare for something that she did not know a thing about, so she decided to go sporty. They were only told that they were not required to be in their uniforms, so she went with black leggings and a t-shirt, with a rain jacket on top. She grabbed a bag with a water bottle and a few more things stuffed inside and she urged Amanda to leave faster.

When everyone met outside, Dan explained what was going to happen.

"What? A night of survival in the woods? Is he crazy? None of us is prepared for that." Amanda exclaimed when they learned the news.

"Well, I guess none of our future enemies would be kind enough to give us a heads up for when shit would hit the fan, so think of this as a very useful practice for what is about to come." Angie said calmly.

Something about the way she always justified things in a positive light was both inspiring and annoying to her fellow trainees.

They received further instructions and one emergency radio per team of five, to call for back-up if they needed it. Although, that would be very, very bad for the team.

This time they were free to choose their teammates and that meant that Angie's little group only had to find one more person for this adventure.

"Can you, guys, squeeze me in?" A guy in his late 30's approached them as they were sitting on the ground, strategizing.

"What's your field of expertise?" Angie asked, just as Bryan had nodded and opened his mouth to say Yes.

"Uh, I have prior military training, Marine Corps in Miami, Florida." The man replied.

"Angie, what are you doing? What does it matter anyway?" Jack whispered to her.

"It _does_ matter, actually." She argued, silently. "We have _me_ on the team, I'm very athletic and I can run and climb like a monkey. I'm also very good at orientation within big open spaces. We have Bryan, who is very resourceful and highly adaptive to different unexpected situations. We have Amanda, who, well, she'll keep us entertained and she'll make sure our brains don't stop working properly in case of a natural disaster. I mean, she's really good at putting someone in their place, so her words would keep our spirits alive. Then we have you, honestly, I don't even know why…" She trailed off.

"Ouch!" Jack cringed.

"Just kidding. You're full of surprises. You said you grew up in Montana, so you surely know how to survive in the woods." Angie added before turning back to the new man. "What are your hobbies?"

"I like roller skating with my son. When I was young, my parents made me take dance classes because my older sister was doing that, but I switched to football. Obviously." He laughed. "I had much better luck in culinary school, later in the years."

"See? Jack can hunt us an animal and, sorry, I don't know your name, but you can cook it for us!" Angie stated contently, once again turning to face the new guy.

"Relax, it's just a few hours of hiking in the woods. You're preparing for it as if it were a survival mission on a stranded island." Jack wanted to push her buttons, he wanted to hear what she had to say.

"Oh yeah? What if it's not? What if Dan only told us half of what to expect? What if this is really a survival mission and they want to find out which one of us can make it out of the woods with no support, for more than just a few hours?" She argued and the more she spoke, the bigger the dimples on her cheeks became. They weren't as visible when she spoke normally. One could see a hint of dimples when she smiled lightly, but now, they were just out there.

"Samuel, that's my name." The man introduced himself. "She does have a point." He added, trying hard not to smirk.

"Well, Samuel, welcome to team." Angie shook his hand formally. She had a thing where she would act very cordial to anyone whose age was even slightly superior than hers.

They opened a map that was given to them and started to make their way into the woods.

* * *

"I can't believe she kicked us out." JJ shook her head as Rossi parked his car in front of Emily's apartment building.

Garcia and her had went to the hospital in the ambulance, so none of them had a car available. Garcia had to go back by taxi and she hated those. JJ was lucky she got to ride in Rossi's amazing car.

"She's got a lot on her mind. Cut her some slack." He replied with a shrug. Emily had a mind of her own and she would do and say what she pleased.

JJ opened the door and walked straight into Emily's bedroom. She stuck a few clothing items in one of Emily's "go bags", as they called them, and then she added a few toiletries too. The plan was to have the bag ready, for whenever they would be welcome to go visit her again.

After that, Rossi drove them to the BAU where they had to come up with some lame excuse for their absence. JJ informed everyone that Emily had been assigned a project that was above everyone's security clearance, so they were asked not to raise any questions about it.

Soon it got dark outside and everyone started to leave. JJ stayed behind, closed up in Emily's office, trying to help with all the paperwork that she found there.

"SSA Prentiss?" An obnoxious voice sounded from behind the door and JJ was pissed.

"Oh, Agent Jareau…" The woman once again invited herself in. She loved getting on Emily's nerves, but annoying JJ would give her just as much satisfaction. She had, after all, been breathing down Emily's neck for the past few days, so it was getting old. She appreciated the change.

"Doing someone else's work for no recognition at all? Again?" She started, but JJ refused to give her the pleasure of getting riled up.

"What can I say? I like to stay in the sidelines." She replied sarcastically.

"Well, that's good to hear, because that is exactly where you will remain – in Prentiss' shadow." The woman smirked. "So much wasted potential…"

"As if you care." JJ muttered to herself, pretending to be writing something on a piece of paper.

"I just wanted to let SSA Prentiss know that I have received the files and they have already been processed and approved. I must say, I am impressed she managed to come up with such a detailed plan in such a short time. Please, salute her from me. Have a good weekend, SA Jareau." The Chief left and JJ picked the phone, extremely aggravated.

"Garcia!?" She nearly choked from anger as she spoke her name.

"Ye-yes?" A timid reply followed.

"What did you do this time?" JJ knew it must have been Garcia.

Emily never had the chance to write down her own or to sign the propositions she got handed at lunch, since she fainted right after that. So, that left Garcia.

"I fixed things…maybe?" Garcia mumbled while making sure the very last mug was hidden, so that JJ wouldn't go after Mr. Crocodile, one of her favorites.

"Exactly _what_ did you do?" JJ pushed it.

"I hacked into Emily's computer and downloaded a few files. After that I cyber-copied her signature and I used your proposal, on different stationary, and then splashed her signature on top and then ever since I hit the Sent button I've been praying to God and all mythical creatures that this would not lead to me getting fired…And I also drank too much tea. Please don't hurt my mugs!" Garcia ranted and JJ could almost hear Garcia's heartbeat on the phone.

"I won't hurt the mugs. I'll hurt _you_!" JJ was about to lose it.

"Well, before you do, I should just let you know that it was a group effort."

"Huh?" JJ said, now confused.

"The team decided that this was the best thing to do. Emily is being ridiculous. She can't risk her life, for a pretty penny. We can't let her keep on sacrificing things. You know how she is. So, we decided to send your proposal." Garcia explained.

"What, the whole team is okay with your idea?" Somehow JJ did not believe that.

"It was not _my_ idea. It was Rossi who suggested it. I just forged the signature and sent it in from Emily's computer. And yes, we were all on the same page." Garcia took a sip of yet another cup of tea, her nerves were getting the best of her.

"And you guys did not include me in that conversation?" JJ was unsure if it was the deed they did, that annoyed her, or maybe the fact that she had been sidelined, as a part of the team.

"No. Because you always do what's best for Emily, the person. And right now we only needed to think about Emily Prentiss, the Unit Chief. You wouldn't have let us go through with our plan. You'd know how much it would upset Emily, and we did, too. But we had to do it. It was the right thing to do." JJ hated it when Garcia was right. Sometimes, not too often, Garcia would put her bubbly persona aside, and come up with the most valid, emotional speech, one that JJ could not argue with.

"But Emily is also our friend. We can't do this to her. She needs to take her own decisions. This is not fair!" JJ argued anyway.

"See? This is exactly why you weren't part of the conversation. God, Reid was right about you…"

"Spencer!?" JJ's jaw dropped. "It was _him_ who suggested leaving me out of this?" At that moment, her heart sunk. It hurt. How could he do this to her?

"None of us wanted you there." Garcia bit her lip as she spoke the rough, hurtful truth.

JJ took a moment to think about it. And the more she thought, the more she knew why they did it, but it didn't hurt any less. All she could do now was accept it and move on. She was not one to hold a grudge and neither was Emily, so maybe this would work out just fine.

"You better pray that Emily takes this as well as I almost did…" With that, JJ hung up and started praying to God and all mythical creatures, too.


	13. Sorry Doesn't Cut It This Time

** CHAPTER 13**

_**SORRY DOESN'T CUT IT THIS TIME**_

"Are you okay?" JJ asked as soon as she picked up the phone, skipping out on the usual _Hello_ greeting.

"Yes." Emily sighed.

It was 7 am on Saturday and Emily had woken up over an hour ago. She was done waiting for it to be an appropriate time to make a phone call.

"How's the team?" Emily added.

"Are you kidding me? You are in a hospital and could barely move your muscles, yet you are calling to make sure _we_ are okay?" JJ tried to fool Emily.

"Ah, so you haven't told them?" Emily was smarter than JJ gave her credit for.

"Honestly, I don't even know how to explain this. Garcia clearly never meant to do you any harm. I'm afraid the team wouldn't take that into consideration and she would be ripped alive." JJ had a heart of gold. Even through the pain this scene had caused her, reminding her of when she had found her own sister's lifeless body in the bath tub at the tender age of eleven, she could never stay mad at Garcia.

"I'm coming back this afternoon." Emily informed her.

"No, you're not." JJ got out of bed, not wanting to wake Will up, and she walked over to the bathroom. Clearly, she would be getting no more rest that day. Nor a day off.

"Watch me." Emily's voice was calm and collected and JJ was sure that Emily was waiting for it to be noon so that she could sign her own release form and get out of the hospital. She just knew her way too well.

"Can I _drive_ you, instead?" There was nothing else JJ could do about it.

"Sure. Be here at noon. Bye." Emily hung up before they would start to bicker about anything else.

* * *

"That's not where we came from." Bryan looked around and did not recognize his surroundings.

"We should make a right here. Making a left will get us nowhere. It's definitely a right turn now." Angie pointed out as they stood still at the beginning of two paths.

"Are you sure? Everything looks just the same." Amanda replied to Bryan's former statement, leaning on a tree for a moment.

"It's a forest, genius. Everything _is_ the same." Jack stated, suddenly being annoyed with her.

"Well, we don't really have those in Boston, so excuse me for not being a savage, tree-hugging, nature-loving hippie." Her foot stomped on the ground a bit childishly.

"Guys…" Bryan tried to stop the storm from coming.

"Stay out of this!" Both Amanda and Jack yelled back at him before they started yelling random offences at each other.

That came out of nowhere. So far, they had all gotten along. Amanda could be a bit standoffish, but nobody had a problem with that.

"Shut up!" Angie tried to top the loudness of their voices, but they sounded like a bunch of wild animals, arguing for their prey.

"SHUT UP!" Angie yelled at the top of her lungs, startling everyone. "You guys are acting like twats right now. Aren't you ashamed of yourselves? How old are you? What the Hell is going on with you? We cannot afford to waste any time by babysitting you here. All of us are here with a goal and there is no way we'd let your dumb behavior prevent us from finishing this assignment. So, step aside, cool the fuck off, and come back when you think you know how to handle yourselves like grown-ups again."

So far, she had been a very nice and cool person, so to see her lose it like this was _so_ unexpected.

Nobody dared to utter a word after her freak out. Amanda and Jack ended up splitting and walking off in different directions.

"Angie…" Bryan approached her nervously.

"Dumb people." She muttered, unexpectedly. "You once asked me if there is anything at all that could make me tick. Well, dumb people it is."

Her words made him laugh and not long after that, they heard a female scream out as if she were in pain, followed by a loud noise of what sounded to be something rolling down a steep hill.

"Amanda!?" Samuel said in panic, walking off in direction to where she had last been seen.

It was pitch black and cold outside. They could barely see what was in front of them, so each moment that the five of them did not stand by each other's side, they had no idea where everyone else was. The moon was weak, barely visible. The next day was promising to be raining heavily, so the sky was preparing for that already – thick dark clouds invaded everything above their heads and prevented them from being able to spot a single star.

After the scream, which they believed to have been Amanda's, everything started to look and feel a lot like a horror movie. Suddenly, every little sound was heightened and every tree branch that the wind was swaying around looked a lot more dangerous. The wind picked up the pace, as if on cue, and the first drops of rain started to fall.

"Wait." Bryan made everyone stop walking. "We need to evaluate the situation first. Is everyone okay? I mean, is anyone cold? Hungry? Tired? Hurt?"

"I have my rain jacket on. I'm quite warm, I'm also willing to let anyone borrow it, if you need that." Amanda informed. Her choice of clothing had turned out to be spot on, although her legs were cold with those polyester leggings. She could feel the wind pierce right through her flesh, but she would not admit that out loud.

"I haven't had any food since this morning." Jack informed them and Bryan realized that the growling sound he had heard earlier must have been from Jack's empty stomach.

"Here." Angie sat down and searched her bag before handing him a protein bar.

"How did you even know we were going to the mountain?" Jack raised an eyebrow while unwrapping the snack.

"I didn't. Dan only told us to meet outside, so I figured that whatever the activity might be, it would surely not be in the gym or the pool or anywhere inside. So, I dressed for the occasion. Plus, I always have a protein bar in my bag. You never know when you might need it." As she spoke, she heard a faint grunt, as if someone had been injured and unable to call out for help.

"Ok, if everyone is in good shape, we should come up with a plan. We can't just walk around aimlessly. If Amanda is hurt, we need to find her immediately." Bryan took the lead.

"Dude, we can simply call for help." Jack pulled the radio out of his back pocket.

"No way. That puts everyone in this team in the front line for the first cut. Amanda wouldn't want that. She would want us to go get her. Plus, are we even fit to be in the FBI if at the first obstacle we call for help and sit down and cry?" Angie took a sip of water from the bottle that she always brought with her and then she let Bryan come up with a plan of action, while Jack was handed the map and asked to study their surroundings, if he could even manage to see what was on the piece of paper anyway.

* * *

"Hey, how was the super-secret case?" Luke asked, ignoring the fact that JJ had begged them not to bombard Emily with questions about it.

Emily had just walked into the bullpen and she winced.

"Seriously? I'm away for one day and this place ends up looking like a dump?" Her words made everyone laugh, taking away from the fact that she had a small limp as she walked. Her left leg hadn't yet gotten back to functioning normally, the muscles were still tense and she did not feel it very much.

"Maybe we can compensate about that, by giving you some good news." JJ approached Emily with a smile.

"Oh, please do." Emily cringed again, while picking up a container with some left over Chinese food still inside.

"Well, while you were away, my written proposal somehow ended up in the hands of the Section Chief and the committee has agreed to everything. It meets exactly 45%." JJ said cheerfully, omitting the part where Garcia had forged Emily's signature and sent it in, herself. Although, Garcia had also mentioned having changed stationery, so if it was pink, it would be very incriminating.

This was the first time the rest of the team learned about this and they started cheering. This was definitely good news.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Emily panicked, feeling like her heart had just dropped and was now under the sole of her shoe.

If she had to be honest, she wanted to cry at that moment. She needed to let it all out and scream at the top of her lungs, while crying hysterically at the same time. The side effects of the opium were probably kicking in, since she felt the sudden urge to freak out and panic.

The team was confused by her reaction.

"But, half of it was your idea." Garcia took a step backwards, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. Again.

"Yes, and then I specifically informed all of you that this was a huge mistake, a decision that I no longer had the intention to stand by. I also said that this was _my_ mess and _my_ responsibility. So, excuse me if I'm not happy about the fact that you forged official government documents and sent them in without my permission." Emily's eyes pierced through JJ, who, in turn, chose not to put the blame on Garcia, but to take it upon herself.

"I'm sorry, I…" JJ got interrupted when Emily raised her hand in the air.

"Sorry doesn't cut it this time." She stated before walking over to the elevator.

This was supposed to be their day off anyway. They had all gathered there because JJ had asked them to put in an extra day and she was now regretting that.

Emily was not upset. She was not even mad. There was not a hint of disappointment on her face.

She was fuming.

Enraged.

Pissed off to the point where if she hadn't left the FBI building, she would be squeezing her hands around someone's neck at that very moment and she would be unable to tell them the exact reason why. And there was a very high probability that this someone would have been JJ.

She got in the car and drove off. Something was bothering her and she needed to release some tension.

Once she entered her home, she realized the familiarity of that place was giving her even more anxiety. So, she grabbed just one item from the house and then left.

The next time anyone would hear from or see Emily Prentiss would be no earlier than a week later.

* * *

"This hill does not exist." Bryan commented after looking at the map for the longest time, helping Jack out.

They no longer heard anything other than the whisking sound of the wind. So, the only way to find Amanda was to understand where they were and where she might have fallen.

They had called out her name desperately, but there was no reply.

"He's right." Jack looked around them, not finding the things that he was seeing on the map.

"Crap, they gave us a faulty map!" Angie sighed, knowing very well that this must have been part of the training.

"What now?" Samuel asked, letting them take the lead.

"We divide and check out our surroundings. There is four of us, we can all go in different directions and then meet back here later." Jack suggested.

"No way. We stay together!" Angie was not a fan of leaving people behind in times of need. However, she had no problem if someone left _her_ side, when she needed them. She has had quite the experience with situations like those, throughout her life.

"Yeah, we don't even know what time it is, so we wouldn't know when to come back. We'll only end up getting lost and potentially hurt, as well." Bryan noticed that every single decision had come from either him or Angie, while Jack and Samuel only criticized them or gave useless input. That, he considered to be quite weird.

"It must be around three o'clock by now. That's where the moon was positioned at the other day when we came back late from the swimming pool. So, my best guess is that we won't have any light for at least three more hours, if we're lucky." She stated, sitting on a rock to tie her shoe as she noticed it being undone. And that was when it hit her.

"Angie, you are the most random girl I've ever met. But you are also a genius!" Bryan cheered when he saw her frantically pulling a cord out of her bag.

After untangling the 2,5 meter cord, she switched a button and it illuminated a path between the four of them.

"Literally, the only person to ever carry Christmas lights in their Summer bag." Jack rolled his eyes.

"Fairy lights!" She scrunched her nose, protecting the name and integrity of a very special possession of hers. "And I don't carry them around. I had transported them here from camp, I just didn't have the time to pull them out of the bag before I stuffed it with everything else earlier tonight."

"Guys, less chat, more searching." Bryan urged them. "Good job, Mary Poppins!" He whispered to Angie, appreciating the magic tricks she always did with her bags.

They walked side by side, holding the lights in their hands, so they could see a little better. After a primary search of the area, they were unable to find anything steep enough to have made Amanda fall. There were no signs of torn clothing or blood on the tree branches or on the ground. They found a few footmarks in the dust, but were unable to distinguish which were their own and which were Amanda's, so they could not follow that trail. There was literally nothing.

"She can't just disappear." Angie was getting more and more upset.

Thunders cut through the sky and shortly after that, a heavy downpour started.

Leaves started being blown in every direction and, if Amanda had been on the ground, it would be nearly impossible to find her if the leaves had covered her, which was very likely to have happened.

"We have to find cover." Samuel suggested, looking around.

"No. We need to find Amanda and make sure she is okay. She probably needs medical help." Angie reached out to Jack's pocket and pulled the radio out.

"Wait!" Jack tackled her and grabbed the radio. "Not yet. Let's wait a little bit."

"Why? If she is hurt, she might not be having a great time with these weather conditions. I sure as Hell am not. So, we need to put our pride aside and ask for help." Angie crossed her hands in front of her chest.

At that moment, the fairy lights went off.

"Crap. I've been using them for so long and I never changed the battery. Well, this was just the perfect time for them to die on us." She allowed herself to be a little whiny. The situation was calling for it.

Jack begged her to wait a few more minutes before calling for back up and he excused himself, adding that he had to go behind a tree and pee.

Three minutes later he came back, fixing his zipper up and it grossed Angie out.

"Can I call now?" She extended her hand to Jack, begging for the radio.

Once he put it in her hands, it went off on its own.

_"__Attention trainees, the exercise ends now. There has been an incident. Everyone stay put and wait for backup to come get you."_ Dan was speaking and his voice was a little less confident than usual. Shaky, even.

What incident? It couldn't be about Amanda.

They had to wait for about fifteen minutes before they saw flashing lights coming towards them.

"We're here!" Bryan called out and soon they were surrounded by a huge group of Agents and trainees, on their way back to the camp.

"One of our team members is hurt. She disappeared earlier and we couldn't find her. Please, help us out." Angie bit her bottom lip, pushing wet hair out of her face.

"We know. Our specialists are dealing with it. Now, everyone needs to go back." One of the Agents who were supervising the hike, replied to her.

"No! We can't leave without Amanda. She's part of our team. If she stays, we stay." Angie stated and earned herself a rough push on the shoulder. The Agent was now quite literally dragging her in direction to where everyone else was headed.

"What specialists?" Angie shivered, not from the cold, but from what those words might have meant.

"Keep walking. No more questions." The Agent scolded her and she felt her heart drop.

* * *

"Did you feel that drop!?" Some woman nudged Emily, bringing her back to reality from her state of self-inflicted hypnosis.

Emily had been sitting in her seat quietly, fixating an object that she held in her hands for about three hours now, and she seemed to be oblivious as to what was going on outside.

"We literally dropped height." The woman kept on nagging.

"It's a plane. There's a thunderstorm." Emily had no wish to socialize, nor to help calm someone down. She hadn't yet managed to do so for herself, anyway.

The following hours of the flight, Emily had remained silent. The object never left her hands and the more she looked at it, the more she wondered if it made her feel a bit more calm or a lot more upset.


	14. Ce N'est Pas Mon Nom, Appelle Moi Lauren

**CHAPTER 14**

_**CE N'EST PAS MON NOM, MAIS APPELLE MOI LAUREN**_

On the way back to the campus, after that failed outdoors activity, trainees were quietly being instructed to go straight to their rooms and wait for callback in the morning.

Angie was not going to do any of that.

"Excuse me!" She said impatiently, walking over to a superior. "I need to know what happened to Amanda, she's my roommate."

The man she had approached looked her up and down in what was supposed to be an intimidating manner.

"You need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be quite the day for all of you." He replied vaguely.

"It is going to be one Hell of a day if you don't tell me what happened to my roommate!" Her brows furrowed and she quickly realized that she was making a scene in front of the very wrong person. "Sir." She added, to soften things up a bit.

"We are not at liberty to give out any information." He was like a brick wall – no matter how hard she kept on kicking different bricks, the wall was still standing.

"Ugh!" Angie said dramatically and went on to bug the next superior that she saw in her sight.

"Excuse me, I need to know what happe-…" She got interrupted immediately, as this person only pointed a finger towards the dorms.

Angie hated to admit it, but she was going to have no luck doing things this way. So, she walked back home and came up with a different plan of action.

* * *

Emily had gotten off the plane a couple of hours ago. She took a bus to the city center and walked right into a supermarket. As she exited it, she was carrying a big bag of things and a small basket.

She had to options: taking another bus, or walking for about a quarter of an hour. She chose the latter.

As her shoes started hitting the pavement, her eyes were glued to her surroundings. She loved this city. She also hated this city.

Soon, she reached the place she wanted to visit. Not many people were around and it made her feel so much more relaxed already. From the big bag she pulled out a beach towel, because that was what she had found at the clearance section of the supermarket, randomly; and she placed it on the ground. Next up was the tiny picnic basket, which she left empty, because it really was more for decoration purposes, than for commodity. After that, a bottle of wine and a paper tray with strawberries popped on the towel. She took her time to set everything right and, five minutes later, she kicked off her shoes and sat down with a smile.

That smile disappeared quickly.

Her mind started being flooded by a very specific flashback and, no matter how good it was to be back at that same spot where the flashback was from, it still hurt her. In a way, it made her heart skip a beat, and she wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

One wine glass later, on an empty stomach, and Emily Prentiss was a little less concerned about the flashbacks. They were still there - every time she blinked, she saw a face, she heard a voice, she felt sadness. But, luckily for her, soon she was also feeling the tipsiness from the alcohol and it felt quite good.

"Je vois une belle dame. Excusez-moi, mais je suis curieux de la rencontrer." A deep, very manly voice, came up from behind her.

It startled her. Egoistically, she knew the man was talking to _her_, so she turned around.

And he was _gorgeous_.

The most perfect vision of a man that she had ever seen.

His hair was parted sideways and it was dark and curly; slicked and yet a bit messy. His eyes were not afraid to explore what was in front of him and the smile on his face showed that he appreciated the view. When she had first laid eyes on him, he had made the tiniest, cutest bow of courtesy. He didn't approach her, as to not seem too direct, yet he stood immobile, waiting to figure out if this beautiful woman, as he had just called her, wanted to get to know him as well.

Emily did not register any of that. What she saw and understood from the whole situation was: a guy, standing in front of her. A male. That was it. And it was kind of enough, but it did help to know that he was so damn sexy, in his own French way.

She eyed him up and down as well with a certain hunger in her eyes. It was definitely a lot more forward than _his_ approach, but he did not seem to mind. Not that she would have noticed. After almost finishing the bottle of wine on her own, there were just shadows and noises around her. It was awesome, as far as she was concerned.

"Ce n'est pas mon nom, mais appelle moi Lauren." She introduced herself, not even realizing she was speaking a foreign language.

"Je m'appelle Richard." The man smiled and extended his hand in a very formerly fashion, wanting to shake her hand or maybe even kiss the palm of her hand, as if he could get any more perfect.

Emily waved. Like a complete idiot.

"Comme le patisserie Ree-sha'hd?" She imitated the way he had pronounced his name.

"Oui, exactement." He nodded. In his whole entire life, he had never had a woman ask him if his name was like the famous pastry shops in France. Which, he had to give it to her, was exactly what it was.

"Hi." Emily said shyly. Not even the first boy she had ever tried to flirt with, had ever seen her _so_ shy.

"Oh, you…you are American?" Richard switched to English, although he already knew that Emily's French was perfect.

"Oh, I could be anything you want me to be." She bit her bottom lip, but this time it wasn't out of confusion or anger. It was seduction.

"Huh?" He said in confusion.

"Yeah, you are definitely French, alright." Emily grinned. Her opinion of French men was that they were so incredibly slow. But so damn hot, as well.

"Can I maybe offer you dinner? Maybe at Pur' - Jean-François Rouquette?" Really, he had her at _dinner_, but dropping the name of the coolest fine dining place in Paris was not a bad addition to his offer.

"Oh, oui." She giggled, because a drunk Emily Prentiss giggles. She also accepts random offers from complete strangers. And she flirts mercilessly. Although, a sane and sober Emily Prentiss would probably do the same.

He helped her stand up and chuckled at her choice of wine. Those American tourists would never really know when to drink certain alcohols and what canapé to accompany them with.

To his question where she was staying, she improvised and said the name of the first hotel that came to her mind. He offered her a ride there, so she could sober up and get ready for the evening.

* * *

Angie didn't know _when_ she had fallen asleep, but she knew that when the clock would hit 5:30 am, she would awake by the sound of her alarm. And, unfortunately, Amanda wouldn't be there to get annoyed by it.

At 5:41 she was already knocking at the door of Bryan and Jack's room.

"Woman, are you crazy?" Bryan scolded her as he opened the door.

"Completely." She said truthfully. "Now, if Dan calls us at 7 for the usual 7:30 training session, that only gives us two hours to do this."

"Do what?" Jack was now fully awake, thanks to her chipper voice.

"We are going back to the woods to figure out what happened." She informed them and they had no choice but to get dressed and follow her.

"Wait, we were right here." Bryan commented as they walked past something he remembered. "But it's not on the map. What the Hell is that map, anyways?"

Now that they could actually see it, since it was already twilight, it made no sense. That was a random piece of paper that did not correspond to their surroundings, at all. Angie was convinced this was part of the training.

"Okay, here is where my fairy lights went off. I just found the battery holder cap on the ground. It must have fell off yesterday, as I tried to fix them." She pointed out and tried to think of where everyone was when Jack and Amanda started bickering.

"If I'm right, she went in that direction." Her finger pointed to one direction and Bryan started to walk.

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed a couple of minutes later.

"Angie, don't!" He was first in the line, as they explored, and he took a few steps back, holding Angie back so that she wouldn't see what he had just seen.

That only made her want to see it even more.

She shrugged away from his hands and walked over to where he was standing when he first spoke.

"Oh my God!" She gulped, her eyes almost popping out of their sockets from the gruesome discovery.

There was a thick tree log on the ground. It must have fallen previously, as it looked like it had been there for a while. And then, on the other side of it, there was the steep hill they had suspected that Amanda must have fallen off. They hadn't been able to see it last night, in the dark. And then there was blood all the way down to where Angie could see markings, surely placed there just hours ago, by the supervisory agents who had, presumably, found Amanda.

She rubbed her eyes a few times, hoping that it would have been just a bad nightmare, a vision, an illusion.

It was not.

Bryan came up from behind her and wrapped his hands around her slim frame. She tried to shrug him off, but he pulled her in even closer and squeezed her body a little tighter. He wasn't sure how it was possible that she wasn't bawling her eyes out already, but he decided to give the top of her head a little kiss anyway, just for support.

Jack paced around, waiting for the two of them to put the blame on him. And yet, they didn't. They were all grown-ups and it had been Amanda's choice to wander off on her own.

"I don't want this to be true." Angie whined, her hot breath lingering on Bryan's bare shoulder. "I'm sick of people dying on me all the time."

* * *

"Hey, did you guys receive it?" Matt was the first one to send a text in the group chat.

"Yeah. Bummer." Garcia replied while making herself a cup of tea and stroking her cat with her free hand.

"Not my type of a vacation." Luke was not happy when people commanded him to take a vacation.

"At least it's paid." JJ put her two cents in. She would have been pissed if it were the opposite.

"Hey, don't get ahead of yourself, JJ. The e-mail never specified that." Rossi sent a short audio to the chat, as he was cooking pasta for lunch and he needed both hands and all sensory organs in his body to focus on one thing and one thing only – the sauce.

"Wait, get _what_? What are you guys talking about? Can someone explain?" It was a miracle Spencer even replied to the texts, since he clearly was not reading his e-mails.

Luke took it upon himself to help a friend out, since he was the one who started the conversation after all. He copied the mail to the chat.

_"__Dear BAU members,_

_After careful consideration, the Section Chief and supervisory personnel have come to the conclusion that your presence on the premises is not of urgent matter. As we have already informed your Unit Chief, SSA Prentiss, we kindly suggest that you all to take the week off._

_We expect you to finally start bringing the Bureau results, as__ soon as you come back and we are sure of your kind collaboration._

_Sincerely,_

_Section Chief Meredith Fowler"_

"Ha-ha-ha. Sincerely, my ass." JJ couldn't help but comment as she had the opportunity to read this ridiculous thing one more time.

"Really, though. The fact that our Section is being headed by someone who managed to make at least three grammar mistakes in three sentences alone, is preoccupying." Reid had a thing for formal documents that were written badly.

"Forget the grammar, Spence. She practically called us out on the lack of results lately. And we are forced to stay at home. And Rossi, you were right – nowhere does it say what kind of a leave this is." JJ hadn't slept all night, worried about where her friendship with Emily stood. To top it all, she had to wake up to _that_ e-mail. She was pissed.

"Wow, guys. I'm late to the party here. LOL! I just caught up with all the texts. We can't really say this was surprising. I mean, we have been sitting on our asses for two weeks now. We don't bring results, simply because we are not assigned new cases anymore. I don't know. It sucks, but maybe it could be a good thing. We could all blow off some steam." Tara managed to type out her reply, while still being halfway underneath her luxury vintage car, the one that she had been repairing for a while now.

"Emily?" Matt called for her, but she did not reply.

"Yeah, why is she not replying?" Luke typed in.

"I already checked that out. You are welcome. And the answer is – because her phone is not where she is. It pinged from her house, but I bet she left it there and is now somewhere on an exotic beach, sipping cocktails with a really hot foreign guy and getting over the fact that we let her down." Garcia replied once again.

"Well, I guess I will see you guys in a week. And just by the way, thanks for keeping me out of a decision that had to be taken as a team." With that passive aggressive text JJ put her phone on the table and tended to her family. She had been slacking for the past couple of days, so she wanted to make sure her husband and kids had her undivided attention, at least for the following seven days.

* * *

Emily woke up next to a towel and in a bed that she did not recognize. The good news was that she had finally been able to sleep for a few hours, without interruption. Yet, where was she?

Her bare feet stomped on the ground and, she noticed, the rug was quite fancy. She looked around and everything was white.

"Am I dead again?" A splitting headache made it easier to believe that all this brightness and white around her was a bad sign.

_"__Bonjour Lauren,_

_We met by the Fountain and I find you enchanting. I would love to know more about you, but I did not want it to seem like I was taking advantage of your state of ébriété. I will be waiting for you in the hotel lobby at 8 o'clock ce soir in hopes of being granted the pleasure of enjoying your beautiful company for dinner._

_Richard, comme le patisserie."_

It took her a while to focus on every word of the handwritten note that she found under the door.

After a minute, she started recalling the stranger from earlier. Had he driven her to the hotel and left her there with the note? Why did she wake up next to a towel?

She didn't remember it, but when he had dropped her off, he had also checked her in since her name was not on the guest list of the hotel. Clearly. After that, he had instructed one of the employees to make sure the woman would be accompanied to her room and that the letter would be placed under the door.

If she knew any of that, the man would be even more amazing in her eyes.

However, the little that she knew was more than good enough for her. A pissed off Emily Prentiss usually didn't aim high, when it came to men.

She hopped under the shower, alternating between hot and cold water. It had been a long flight and she was exhausted, the jet lag was a real pain and her feet were hurting from the new office shoes she had on her feet since Garcia drugged her, all through her recent hospital experience, and then during the flight.

The next thing she found to be a challenge, after she was done with the shower, was the fact that she had no clothes. And not in the cute girly way where a female would open the wardrobe and stand there while repeating that she had no clothes. No. She actually had none. The one object she had taken on this trip with her was her wallet, with her Lauren Reynolds passport and credit card inside.

She had forgotten what time was indicated on the note, so she walked back to the door to pick it up, but then something else caught her attention.

A white paper box, white ribbon all around it, with nothing else written on it, but DIOR.

"Okay, screw anything else, I'm going fancy tonight!" She said to herself, her mood definitely much better than what it used to be. She blamed the French air…and the wine.

Opening the box, she gasped, finding a red, form-fitting dress, with subtle glitter rims on the bottom part and on the décolleté. Underneath the dress, a pair of shoes from the same brand – black shoes with a red ornament on top.

"Jesus, I guess it's true that I'm hot when I'm pissed." She shook her head, referring to a statement that she had heard from a lot of men in her life. Apparently, a pissed off version of her was a catch for every man with specific taste. And by that, it is to be understood: kinky.

She was still missing a few crucial things, so her strategy was to put on the clothes from earlier and to make a run down the street. An hour later she had successfully returned to the hotel with a face, full of make-up, courtesy of Sephora across the street; and freshly painted nails and blown out hair, courtesy of the only hair salon that had a free chair for her – the little Chinese place two blocks away.

When she finally put the dress and shoes on, she started laughing at her own reflection in the mirror.

"Since when is _this_ my life?" This time she was giggling at the irony of life, not so much from the hungover. That was gone after the shower and the nice refreshing walk outside.

At 7:57 she paced around the hallway, contemplating whether she should be on time, or fashionably late. Because the option to skip out on a dinner date with a hot French guy was nonexistent.


	15. Je Ne Sais Quoi

** CHAPTER 15**

_**JE NE SAIS QUOI**_

"Bonsoir." Emily said with a small smile.

She had decided to make him wait, but not more than five minutes. She liked a worked up French guy.

"Good evening, Lauren." The guy tried not to be obvious as he checked her from head to toes…and then back up, and then back down again.

Emily looked damn good and she knew it. She felt that way, too. There was something about Dior that gave her a boost of confidence. She was rarely one to splurge on designer things, so when she owned a piece like that, she appreciated it all that much more. This time, it was complimentary.

The man literally took a bow in front of her and kissed the palm of her hand, now that she was sober enough to know that waving at him was not etiquette.

Everything about this situation was making Emily want to laugh. Never in her whole entire life had something so random happened to her.

As they stepped out of the hotel, his car was waiting for them.

At the sight of a Porsche Taycan Turbo S, Emily's jaw dropped. That car, along with its metallic silver color, was a vision of perfection. She has never been a car geek, but Tara had been yapping about amazing concept cars for long enough so that Emily picked something up.

"Nice car." She said teasingly.

He chose not to reply and something in the air felt awkward.

"Oh, I've already been in it, haven't I?" Emily, the profiler, profiled herself as an idiot who had been drunk enough, at noon, to not remember a piece of art, like this car.

He drove around Paris, just because, why wouldn't he? He had a beautiful lady in a beautiful car. Also, being Parisian, he didn't even mind that he had to stop at every single red light and wait for ages for it to turn green again.

Emily looked out of the tinted window. It was starting to get dark and all the city lights had come out to play. She had always loved Paris. Well, France in general, but Paris had a special place in her heart. There was this weird, unknown something about Paris that made it so…mysterious, amazing, melancholic. That thing, the famous _je ne sais quoi_.

They stopped in front of the restaurant and a guy tended to the car after Richard handed him the keys.

"After _you_." Richard opened the door for her and he noticed how she turned around one more time, wanting to see the city before they walked in.

"First time in Paris?" He asked curiously.

"Uhm…" Emily Prentiss had been in Paris before, but she had chosen to pretend to be Lauren Reynolds for this short, spontaneous vacation.

"Yeah." She said, even though this was most definitely not Lauren's first time tasting France.

"Would you like to try some typical French food?" He held the menu in his hands, although she was sure he already knew it by heart. First of all, because a menu at such a place probably only consisted of three dishes and five drinks; and secondly, because a guy like him, with a car like that, had surely taken other women there, too. In fact, he had been greeted by his name by three different restaurant employees, just on the way to their table.

"Oh, God, not the onion soup." She did not mean to sound whiny. It was just that…this was the most disgusting thing she could think of. Also, the most French one.

He laughed genuinely. "Oh, you are _so_ American." In a way, this was his revenge for when, earlier, she had called him out on being French.

"Do you trust me?" He only meant that he would like to choose the food.

"No." She grinned devilishly. "But go ahead."

He shook his head. This woman was not like anyone else he had ever met.

He then went ahead and placed an order. Emily tried not to eavesdrop as he spoke to the waitress, as she genuinely wanted to be surprised. She was, also, hoping that onions wouldn't be hanging out of the plate. It was a deal breaker, at that point.

* * *

Bryan made a shush sound as Angie started whining about the discovery of what had happened to Amanda.

It sounded like a loudspeaker in the distance, and they realized this was their morning wake up call from Dan and it came in much earlier than expected.

They sprinted back, now finding it so much easier to understand directions, being able to see where they were going.

"What did we miss out on?" Bryan asked one of the guys in front of the building.

"They announced a day off." The guy shrugged and went out for his morning jog.

"A day off? The first week of Academy? I don't think so." Angie did not like the sound of this.

"I'm starting to think that this is about Amanda…" Bryan shrugged lightly, as they walked towards a bar for breakfast.

"I think I read somewhere that if there had been a fatality on campus, all activities must be interrupted for the whole day. Since it happened last night, I guess this is it – the reason why we have nothing on our schedules today." Jack said while hurrying over to a table at the outside area, the only free table he could spot. He wanted it, he got it.

"Wait, whoah." Angie looked at him disapprovingly. "The fact that they don't require us to do anything specific today does not mean that we would just sit on our butts and wait for tomorrow. Guys, we must do something. And I don't mean just physical training!"

"That's dumb, though." Ever since the night before, Angie had started seeing traits in Jack that she did not like and this statement of his only made things worse.

"No, it isn't. Guys, I'm not going to apologize for wanting to be here. I'm also not going to have a day off. First of all, I am here to work my ass off and to push my limits and I would certainly not achieve that by wasting a precious day. Secondly, my freaking roommate just died and if I don't blow off some steam, I'm going after the idiot who facilitated it."

Jack gulped, hearing her last words. So, apparently, she _did_ blame him for what had happened to Amanda.

"Uhm, I never said anything…" Bryan said in his defense.

The waitress brought them their coffee and Angie stood up.

"I'll actually have that _to go_. Thank you." She wanted to make her point in a dramatic way, but soon realized that it looked like she was stealing the ceramic mug that the coffee was served in.

"I'll come back later to return that." She whispered to the waitress and she walked away.

* * *

"Wow. I have to say, the food was delicious." Emily was only half-happy about it.

The food had been great, yes. But the servings were unbearable. In her opinion, expensive French restaurants should not call their food "dishes", but rather "tongue teasers".

She was starving.

Richard waved at the waitress and Emily got the impression that the woman put it on his bill. Yes, quite surely he was a regular there.

"Listen, you don't need to pay for everything." She felt a little weird. Emily only ever let her close friends pay for her. "But I'm keeping the Dior." She added, lamely.

"Yes, please, keep it." He nodded with poise. She could almost swear that he was the upper-class, old money type of a rich guy; from an amazing family; with exquisite taste of clothing, fine dining, cars and, apparently women, too. It was either that, or she was dreaming.

"It wouldn't look as good on me." He said as he stood up and made a gesture towards her chair, helping her stand up as well.

He also accompanied that joke with a gesture of pulling his dress jacket aside, revealing more of what his body structure was actually like, as if to prove that he wasn't suitable to wear a tiny dress.

Emily contained herself from biting her lip. Again.

Richard seemed like an extremely well-built man – tall, muscular, but not too much; with a body frame that Emily had seen in those calendars…the firemen type. It only took her a second to imagine him with his shirt off.

"Lauren?" Apparently, he had been talking to her while she was daydreaming.

"Huh?" She came back to reality.

Realizing that they barely even spoke during dinner and that they were now walking towards the car again, which only meant that the date had finished; made her frown.

"I would like to…how do you Americans say this…get to meet you better." He said while they waited for his car to be taken to them.

Emily froze. Yes, he was hot, but she was suddenly not so sure how she wanted that night to end.

"Oh, no, no. I don't mean anything rude. Excuse moi, I only meant that while eating, one is not able to have a good and long conversation, so I would like to take you someplace else. To just talk. You seem very mysterious and I want to find out more." He corrected himself and this time it all sounded a lot better.

"Get to _know_ you better." Emily finally corrected him, finding it sweet how he used a mix of both languages and sometimes translated things literally and they made no sense in English.

"And yes, I would like to get to know you better, as well." As she pronounced those words, a weird feeling came over her. Truthfulness. She actually meant those words. For once, it felt good to be able to say what she thought. Maybe going undercover as Lauren, but in real life, wasn't such a bad drunk idea after all.

He drove off in an unknown direction. Even without her gun, she felt quite safe, knowing that, if needed, she could simply just strangle him with her bare hands. She wasn't worried about herself.

It was completely dark by that point. She noticed him take another tour around the city – he had driven down the same street twice, and he went through the same intersection twice, each time driving down a different one of the main boulevards of Paris. Seeing him so eager to allow her to have a good time, made her smile again.

"Do you like Paris so far?" His eyes abandoned the road for just a second, wanting to see her again.

"Oui." She nodded, looking back at him.

If someone dared to let her know that, at that very moment, her cheeks matched the color of her dress, she would probably strangle them too.

* * *

Bryan had excused himself from the coffee bar and he had followed Angie back to her room.

He walked right in, as the door was cracked open.

"Can you, please, stop getting naked in front of me?" He turned around as she started to change clothes. She had seen him enter the room and yet, decided to change.

"Bryan, stop being an ass. Jack is more than I could take today." She said as her training top fell down in place after she threw it over her head.

"Plus, you have seen me in my swimsuit and it is much more revealing than my sports bra and my undies. So, please, grow up." She added.

He made a mental note to himself to try to explain to her, some day, how a man's mind really worked.

But for the moment, he decided to let it go.

"What's on our agenda then?" He was already dressed for sports, so it would be much easier to follow her around.

"_Our_ agenda?" Her eyebrow raised a little bit.

"Yes, _our_ agenda!" His confirmation made her smile. "Or have you forgotten that we are doing this, _together_?"

"I don't know what we could do. I guess we could start with some running and then I need to work on my pull ups." She was now sitting on the edge of her bed, tying her shoe laces.

"Pull ups are not required by all trainees. You could easily get away with not being able to do as many." It was true.

"I know, only candidates for the FBI's Hostage Rescue Team need to do those, but that doesn't mean I could just slack and do less than the rest of you." She seemed to be very well informed about everything, when it came to the Bureau.

"I mean, I'm trying out for that spot, so I must do pull ups. It would be fun to teach you a few things. Come on, grab your water bottle and let's go." His hand rested on her shoulder for just a second and it felt so nice. It was the kind of warm support she needed at the moment, without it being too obvious and pushy.

Five miles later, they were catching their breath, walking off the adrenaline of their run and swiping sweat off their foreheads with their sweat-drenched tops as they neared the training area.

"Okay, first thing – the grip." He jumped up and held the bar before doing a few pull ups and his hands slipped.

"See? This grip feels very comfortable, but doesn't hold for long. It wears you off quickly and, if your palms sweat, you risk falling and hurting yourself." He kept on talking.

"Now, show me how you grip it." He urged her and it took her a second to become a monkey.

She jumped up and held the bar, her feet swaying in the air.

"Think a little less jungle." He laughed at her and held her feet steady.

"Now, your grip is not bad, but push your knuckles more in. Ah, there you go. Now squeeze." He let go of her feet.

"But that's uncomfortable." She winced. This sucked. She was not enjoying it.

"Exactly." He grinned at her. By now he knew that Angie was not a girl who liked to be told what to do, but who preferred to learn from her mistakes. "You do _not_ have to grip so tight. That's the magic trick. Because, when you grip too tight, the muscles on your hand get tired and give up. But when you find the right grip, it gets easier."

She tried to do a couple of pull ups gripping very tight before she switched to a lighter grip and noticed the difference. First, she did two, then she managed to do five, using the same amount of energy.

"Please don't become a genius and take away my intern spot, though!" He said threateningly, because, if she put it in her mind, she would definitely achieve it.

"Oh, not a chance." It was her turn to smirk now before she continued to exercise her technique.


	16. Tell Me A Little About Yourself

** CHAPTER 16**

_**TELL ME A LITTLE ABOUT YOURSELF**_

"You can open your eyes now." Richard said softly, bringing Emily back to reality.

She had allowed herself to daydream. On their way to God-knows-where, she felt so comfortable in the car, in the presence of a man she literally knew nothing about, that she didn't even realize the moment when she had let her eyes shut closed and her body just fell back onto the seat, her muscles feeling a lot less tense and her mouth relaxing into something that looked like a genuine tiny smile.

"Oh…" She exclaimed, realizing where they were.

Richard parked the car and walked out, holding the door open for Emily.

"Merci." She now fully smiling, trying to be as graceful as she could, while getting out of the car. And graceful for Emily meant not hitting her head on her way out and not letting a heel get stuck, hence not faceplanting to the ground. She has had some previous experience, with a British guy, in Scotland, on a date…one that went nowhere, basically. Story of her life.

"Your French is really good." Richard complimented her, meaning every word of it.

"Oh yeah? How's _your_ French?" She immediately regretted it. One, because Richard probably didn't even understand what her dirty mind was getting at. And two, because sometimes she had no filter between her mouth and whatever bodily organ that was making her speak such things.

He smiled uncomfortably and looked around, inhaling the smell around them.

Rust. Water. Metal. Benzene. But mostly - stagnant water.

To Emily, this was one of the most exciting mixtures of smells.

"A good friend of mine kindly allowed me to introduce this beauty…" Richard walked over to the pier, on the edge of River Seine, pointing at a very clean, very sophisticated and, also, very expensive looking private boat.

"…To another beauty." He turned around, extending his hand to Emily, urging her to come closer.

_"__Yup, I'm most definitely dreaming."_ Emily thought to herself as she walked over and put her hand in his.

It was, she realized, the first kind of direct contact she has had with him so far. Never had he dared touch her or invade her personal space, since they met at the park before lunch. And Emily was someone who reserved physical contact for just a few special people in her life. She would never admit it, but she was kind of jealous with Reid's ability to be so open about his phobia of germs. However, for Emily, it wasn't the germs that scared her. It was the contact itself.

And yet, she didn't mind. Somehow, with this weirdly nice man that had appeared in her current upside-down dream world, she did not mind holding hands. He had a firm, strong grip, his fingers were long and neither lean, not chubby, but they engulfed her hand almost completely. They were, also, so very soft and warm. And, for once in her life, Emily Prentiss decided to go against everything that she stood for, and to let a man take the lead.

She looked around once again. They were at the pier, a private one, from what she could see. There were a few private boats on the side of the river and they were now facing one of them. It was pitch dark and the few street lights barely arrived to where they were standing. Yet, she could see quite clearly. She liked the dark. Always had. To Emily, it held so many secrets and it was full of adrenaline and mystery.

"A friend?" She finally spoke up. "Was it Sarkozy?"

Richard laughed, deciding not to comment on that. French people had weird ways of discussing politics and he wasn't about to go out on a rant.

Instead, he pulled on her hand very gently, until she picked up on his lead and followed him up the ramp and onto the main deck.

An elder man introduced himself as Gustave and let them know that he would accompany them on their little cruise down the River Seine and that he was available for anything they might need. He was ready to fix them drinks and there was a cheese platter on the table. Whenever a cheese platter was involved, Emily Prentiss was a happy child.

"Chardonnay s'il vous plait." Emily told him, wanting to steer away from any hard alcohol, as to not get hammered twice within 24 hours. She was already feeling the jet lag, so a second sobering up process would be painful. She knew that from experience.

Richard just nodded, having the same drink as her.

The elder man served them and then disappeared, leaving them with a small gadget with a red button, which, when pushed, would call him back onto the deck. Until then, he would be a ghost and they would be all alone.

"So, Lauren, tell me a little about yourself." Richard's innocent question was about to cause Emily some trouble.

_"__Oh crap…"_ She thought to herself, taking a big gulp of her chardonnay.

She had just embarked on quite the journey.

* * *

After the run and the pull ups training, both Angie and Bryan went to their rooms to take a shower before they met again at that healthy food place that Angie liked so much.

She found it quite weird to be in her room, all by herself. She had barely gotten any sleep that night and the thought of Amanda, all of her personal things serving as a reminder of her, were tripping Angela out to the point where she showered and changed in less than ten minutes before she darted out of there as if the fire alarm had just gone off.

On her way to the little restaurant, she noticed something weird. It was Sunday, the 7th day of FBI Academy. It was also their first day off and she barely saw any trainees outside. It was normal, they were all drained out of energy, so she assumed everyone was sleeping.

However, what she found curious was the fact that, even on their day off, actual Agents were walking across campus. What alarmed her was the fact that there was no need for an Agent to go all the way to the Training Campus, if they wanted to do anything. The food court was between campuses, the closest exit from the FBI premises, for an Agent, was most definitely not the Academy exit, and, it all just seemed sketchy.

She decided to keep those thoughts to herself. Angela was known to make a big deal out of something small.

"Oops, I'm sorry, Miss…?" An Agent bumped into her.

"Trainee Angela Hunter." She introduced herself and raised an eyebrow. "No problem. Have a good day, Sir."

The man walked off and she noticed him typing something on his phone. She had never seen this man before, he was not one of the trainers, not a mentor either, as far as she could tell.

"Hola, Marisol." Angela greeted the woman behind the food counter, as she walked in the Avocado Place, as Bryan referred to it.

"Hola, niña bonita. What can I get you today?" Marisol, a woman in her 50's, with beautiful caramel skin and thick Latina accent, greeted her back.

"Anything low calorie and with high-energy boost. And healthy! I'm trying to survive this place." Angela laughed, sounding more like she was being funny, rather than sarcastic.

With the corner of her eye she noticed another Agent, sitting at a table and eyeing her. Maybe it was an FBI thing? They must be curious about the new trainees. That couldn't be a bad thing.

"I'll have two of those set up, please, before my friend Bryan comes over and asks for a greasy steak and French fries." Angie rolled her eyes, judging her friend's choice of food.

"Here's my card, I'll pay for both." Angie left her card at the counter and walked over to get a nice seat, with a view of the whole court outside.

Bryan walked in shortly after and went straight to the counter to order. Marisol surprised him with a tray with all the food that Angie had ordered and he sighed. He really wanted that steak, though.

"Could you, please, let your friend know that her card has been declined?" Marisol said with a tiny smile. It was always a very uncomfortable situation when she had to let someone know that their card was bounced.

"Oh?" Bryan raised an eyebrow. "Try it again, maybe it's de-magnetized."

"I did." Marisol said shyly. "It says insufficient funds."

Bryan looked over to where Angie was sitting and saw her wave at him with a smile. Ever since they joined the Academy seven days ago, they had no other option but to eat out every single day, every single meal. And those meals weren't exactly cheap.

Then Bryan remembered one more detail. On their first day, he had seen Angie get out of her car. It was an old model, old car, not in top condition.

Angie's clothes had always been really clean, but he had noticed the brands she used were always the inexpensive ones. He had never thought much of it, in fact, he had applauded her for not being one of those girls who spend hundreds of dollars on gym clothes that are meant to get sweaty, dirty and worn out quickly.

But, was there more to Angie than she was leading on?

"Here, I'll cover everything." He swiped his own card, realizing than 26 dollars and 50 cents for two dishes and a couple of drinks was quite a lot of money.

He then tipped Marisol with a ten dollar note, thanking her for her discretion, before he brought the tray to Angie's table.

Without saying a word, he slipped her card in front of her and started to sort out the plates. They both had two plates of food each and also, a drink.

"So, Angie…" He said with a smile, and with an agenda. "Tell me a little about yourself."

_"__Oh crap!"_ Angela thought to herself.

She had, as well, embarked on quite the journey.

* * *

Emily shivered, sitting on the outside deck, sipping her wine slowly and letting the cold breeze hit her bare arms.

A second later, a coat of warmth was wrapping around her.

She looked towards Richard, who had kindly taken his blazer off and was now making sure every uncovered bit of Emily's flesh would be safe and sound underneath the rich cotton fiber item, tagged Louis Vuitton.

"Thank you." She smiled, realizing it had been too long since he had asked her a question.

"Uhm, I…" She started off, a bit unsure.

Without knowing it, she shivered again. This time it was not because of the cold breeze, but the sudden feeling of weakness and doubt that came over her. Who was she? She could no longer say that she was Emily Prentiss from the FBI. And she could no longer be using the Lauren Reynolds character, as it was connected to a sealed, old CIA case. Plus, there was the whole _"Lauren Reynolds is supposed to be dead, again"_ thing.

Suddenly, a doze of courage went up her spine. And then down. And up again.

Richard's right hand was stroking Emily's back, making sure the blazer was warm enough to make her feel comfortable. Oh, he was so cute.

"I uh…" She made a second attempt, but no words came out of her mouth after that.

"It's okay." Richard's hand stopped its movements and she could now feel it immobile, resting on her right shoulder, meaning he was now holding her sideways. And that, too, was cute.

"What brings you to France?" He changed the topic, hoping that this question would be easier for her to answer.

"Vacation." She stated calmly.

"With no hotel booked and no itinerary?" He raised an eyebrow and smiled challengingly.

"What can I say? I'm good at improvising." With those words, Emily intended to be quirky, until she realized how true they were.

Emily would often let herself fall comfortably into a routine that she was expected to follow. Emily Prentiss – the rule follower. The people pleaser. The good Unit Chief. The perfectionist. The overachiever. The one who overcompensates.

The Hell with it all.

Lauren Reynolds was bold, she took risks, she improvised, she lived a fast-paced life.

"Okay, you want to know about me?" Suddenly, Emily Prentiss got balls.

"I'm someone who has always held her head high and I can handle my own shit. I regularly need to handle other people's shit, too, and I don't complain about that. But, you see, sometimes, in certain occasions, one needs to focus on their own shit and find time to sort their own thoughts. Sometimes, I need to fly to a foreign country, act silly, be irrational, get hammered in front of a fountain, meet an amazing guy and, at least for as long as it shall last, be happy to be by his side. That's basically it." She added.

Richard found this to be a bit too much and a bit too complicated.

"What do you mean? As long as it shall last?" He had picked up that one thing, that damned one thing that got on Emily's nerves.

"I mean that I'm well aware that tomorrow or next week, you will be gone. And it sucks to know it and I usually don't even think about it, but it is tripping me out." She was making him more and more confused and he wasn't sure if she was trying to insult _him_…or herself.

"I'm not going anywhere." He said silently.

"But I am." She replied with a sigh. "Because, tomorrow or next week, I will be gone. I can't help it. I'm a complete control freak! I do the same exact thing every single time and no matter how much I like someone, I always leave. And the harder I try not to leave, the easier I make it for myself to do just that. So, ultimately, I end up on my own, complaining about my inability to connect to someone, without realizing that I'm actually perfectly able to do so, I am just an idiot who prefers to leave before being left, to run before getting lost, to hold back before revealing my feelings, to disappoint before being disappointed, to-…"

Before she could continue her sob story, she felt a tug on her shoulder and found herself facing Richard completely. Something changed. She felt like her heart skipped a beat and she knew how ridiculous the idea of that sounded. But she couldn't help it and to the control freak Emily Prentiss, this was driving her insane.

He didn't speak. He just stared into her eyes, his face absolutely relaxed and calm. Screw him and his arrogantly cute ways. Screw her speech. Screw everything, just screw it all. This was all that Emily could say to herself at that moment.

Emily's brain hit the switch off button and all common sense evaporated through her eyes, as she allowed herself to just stare at him. There was something about him, being so immobile, right in front of her, something felt so reassuring. His face never changed its expression and his hands stood firmly by his side. There was absolutely no hint of him initiating any further physical contact. At all. Not even a blink. He stood still and remained still.

She did not.

Within a second after realizing that YOLO was not such a bad concept, Emily's lips crashed against Richard's. She kissed him like she had never allowed herself to kiss before – genuinely. Slowly. Without that desperate urge that everyone sees in the movies. She only felt his hands go up the sides of her arms, slowly, after he had warmed up to the idea that Emily, or rather Lauren, was finally giving him the green light that he had waited so patiently for.

His hands squeezed her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. It was Emily who was wearing a warm blazer, but it was Richard who was oozing warmth.

After a long moment, he allowed himself to pull back, giving them both a second to breathe. He also looked at Emily's face with curiosity. Any man she had ever been with, would have looked a little further down, from her eyes. This man, however, seemed to want to know more about Emily and less about her, well, décolleté. And there was a certain warmth to that fact, too.

She felt the palm of his left hand raise up to her cheek, as he slowly maneuvered her face sideways before he went in for another kiss. This one made Emily's breathing go even more ragged than before.

FBI, what?

Fowler, who?

Workload, huh?

She was fully aware of the fact that she was not really Lauren Reynolds, but she was also getting more and more sure about the fact that this was not Emily Prentiss, either.

And that felt damn good.

"Wait." Suddenly, she broke it all off, now overwhelmed with the urge to come clean. "I wasn't completely honest with you. My name is not Lauren."

"You never said it was." He smiled against her lips, her hot breath tickling his wet lips as she had spoken.

"You only told me to _call_ you Lauren, so that is what I do." He smirked.

Damn. Touché. He was a smart one. Did Emily Prentiss just find her match? Or did Lauren?

And yes, his French was quite damn impressive.

* * *

"Boy, you really don't like sharing personal stuff, do you?" Bryan joked, trying to bring Angela back to reality. Ever since he had asked her a question, she had zoned out and was completely gone, in spirit.

"Huh?" She shook her head, looking at him. "Oh, no. It's just that I'm not a very fun person. Not much cool stuff to know about me."

She shrugged and Bryan started laughing.

"Are you serious? You are, without any doubt, the most interesting person I have ever met in my whole entire life!" He kept on laughing and it was starting to irritate her. "You danced your ass off in front of a bar, full of FBI Agents, on your first night of FBI Academy. Hell, you made them shake it too, with the words: _Loosen up, bitches!_ So, excuse me when I say this, but I refuse to believe that there is anything remotely uninteresting behind those emerald eyes of yours, Missy!"

"Fine. I'm not boring. Okay?" She said in mock surrender. "I just don't like talking about myself."

"How come? You seem to be pretty good with words." He pushed it, only because he wanted to know her better.

"I don't know." She nibbled on a carrot and looked outside the window. "I guess I just don't see the point."

"The point in what?" He said while finishing the last bite of his meal.

"In getting to know someone." Her shoulders rose a bit. "I mean, people come and people go. If you start showing everyone who you really are, that is just a colossal waste of time and energy, right? They wouldn't care once they are gone. So I prefer to just have a good time, maybe go out, dance, enjoy life, take a holiday, learn something new…and then get on with my life once they're gone."

Bryan opened his mouth, but then closed it before he could tell her how he felt about those words of hers.

He felt sad.

A little heartbroken.

Confused.

All of that, because of what her words insinuated. She clearly had a problem getting attached to people; either that or she had experience being abandoned by people she had gotten attached to. Or both. Who knew? Point was that Bryan had all the feels and he didn't know how to tell her how sorry he was to hear such words from such a beautiful and vibrant person as herself.

"You can tell me I'm wrong. Don't worry. Everyone keeps telling me that, so I'm used to it by now. It doesn't change how I feel about life and people, though. It is what it is." She shrugged.

Bryan remained silent for a little longer before he worked up the courage to speak.

"No, I actually kind of get it." He looked down at his empty plate. "I mean, I'm pretty much used to being on the other side of things, though. Growing up, I was quite popular at school, an athlete, a smart kid, too. But uh, my family kept switching jobs every few years, so we had to move, sometimes in the middle of the school year. And that made me want to stay away from real relationships. As I grew up, I dated all the pretty girls at school and I knew that, sooner or later, I'd be gone, so it wouldn't matter if I dumped one for the other. And then I would leave and go to some place new and then it would happen all over again. And again. Until it really shaped me into being someone who can't even keep a relationship that he is interested in, because I simply don't know how to. Leaving is all I've ever known. And trust me when I say this, but leaving sucks as much as being left. So yeah, in a way, I do get what you mean."

Angie bit her bottom lip. Bryan had always been so cool and collected, acting grown up and all. So it really felt quite different to see him in this new light now – opening up and getting up close and personal.

"Oh." She exclaimed silently.

"You once told me you won't sleep with me and then once you asked me how come I'm not attracted to you. Remember?" He received a nod from her, in reply. "Well, you must be the first girl I've met, who doesn't want anything other than a friendship and support from me. And yeah, you are amazingly beautiful and so damn smart, you will go far in life, being just the way you are…" He held out his hand for her and let it sit on the table. "But I would rather have you in my life forever, as a colleague and a friend than screw things up by flirting with you and then dumping you the following week."

"Aww, Bry!" She couldn't help the pitch in her voice Her hand slid across the table and fell comfortably on top of his open hand as it was waiting for her.

"Together." He said shortly and she knew exactly what he was referring to.

"Together!" She repeated with a smile, feeling lucky to have this amazing guy by her side through the biggest, most important journey of her life.


	17. Are You Profiling Me?

** CHAPTER 17**

_**ARE YOU PROFILING ME?**_

"Are you warm?" Richard said as he held her close.

"Oh, you bet I am." She said with a devilish smirk. Thank God he was French and, thus, unable to pick up on all the innuendos she had been dropping pretty much since the moment they had met. Which, strangely, wasn't too long ago.

"I can tell you're going through something in your life and I don't mean to embarrass you by saying this." He spoke softly while his right hand fingers drew tiny circles behind Emily's neck. "I just want to spend some time with you and, maybe, just maybe, you would want to give me a chance to show you that not everybody leaves."

Emily pouted. "Oh, I never said I was afraid _you'd_ leave."

She knew it in her heart, any moment could be her last moment with him.

"Either way. I enjoy your company. And I am here." Those words made her lean in for another kiss. Just a tiny little peck on the lips. She hated herself for starting to act cute, too.

"For the record, you didn't have to go all out like this." She looked down, fixing her dress as it had ridden a little too high as they were sat on the couch, looking at the beauty of Paris at night, as the boat moved slowly.

"It's okay. I can afford it." He smiled as he played with her fingers.

"That is exactly what I meant." Emily had to set the record straight. "I don't care about money and the lavish life of the rich. That is, honestly, not why I wanted to go out with you."

He appreciated her honesty. A lot of women would have had a different opinion. Emily was nothing like anyone he had ever been on a date with.

"Oh yeah? Then why did you?" He decided to try his luck.

"Hmm, let's see…" Her hands went from his chest up to his shoulders, following every curve and muscle of his body.

"Oh, so that is it?" He laughed. Women did love his body, he was well aware of that.

"Also, I mean, come on. You have amazing teeth. Not to mention, you did change your clothes and even your socks, between lunch and dinner and that is just…wow!" She added dorkily. There it was, the Emily dorkiness that was just bound to ruin a date.

To her surprise, he just laughed about it.

"Je suis très intrigué par toi, Lauren." His hands searched for her fingers once again. She had explored a bit with her hands, but he missed the way her small fingers felt between his own.

"I am more than intrigued by you, Richard." She relaxed back on the couch, followed by his body, firmly pressed by her side. His hands enwrapped her like a Christmas present and he inhaled the perfume that was not even her own. Thank God for Sephora being available at every corner, so that Emily could look somewhat decent on this improvised date. She had literally left with just her Lauren Reynolds ID card in her pocket exactly 24 hours ago, from the Washington DC airport, and without a clue what to expect from this last-minute trip.

* * *

"What now?" Bryan held the door for Angie as she quite literally rolled out of the café, full from all the food she had just consumed.

"I have no clue. This day does not seem to end." Her eyes rolled.

"We can go grab our books from the library." He suggested and she agreed to that.

Bryan asked for all the required readings, while Angie only highlighted a few, as they walked to the counter for assistance.

"Have you seriously read all these books?" He remembered that in class she had said it, but he thought she might have been joking.

"Yes." She nodded. "I like criminology and I've been reading a lot since I was a child. I also have a really good memory, so I don't need to read a book again. At most, if it treats a difficult subject like molecular biology or something, I might go back and read some notes on the book or a summary or some online article. But not the whole book. I'd rather put my time and efforts into reading a completely new and unknown book. You know, my time is precious." She said like a diva, just to make a joke out of it and to point out that she wasn't trying to sound obnoxious with her words.

"Sorry to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help it." Some woman walked over to them.

"It's okay. I don't mind. If anything, sorry I didn't lower my voice when speaking in a library." Angie said politely, as she always has.

"You said you like reading about criminology. What are your favorite books?" The woman smiled and seemed nice.

"Serial Murder by Ronald and Stephen Holmes; Stalling for Time: My Life as an FBI Hostage Negotiator by Gary Noesner; the FBI Handbook of Forensic Science; FBI Handbook of Crime Scene Forensics: The Authoritative Guide to Navigating Crime Scenes; Inside the Criminal Mind by Stanton Samenow; Mindhunter: Inside the FBI's Elite Serial Crime Unit by John Douglas…" Angie trailed off to take a quick breath before continuing.

"But my most favorite of all times are Criminal Profiling: An Introduction to Behavioral Evidence Analysis by Brent Turvey; Profiling Violent Crimes: An Investigative Tool by Ronald Holmes and the seven-part series of Criminal Profiling by the FBI, now those were spectacular!" She was now panting, out of breath, her face was red, as if she had just ran a marathon. It took her half a minute to shoot out all this information and it was more than obvious how interested she was in the topic.

"Oh, now my absolute favorite books to read are by this one guy, my favorite criminal author, I've been to his guest lectures in different universities and he is absolutely amazing. A genius. A miracle. Spectacular. He wrote numerous bestsellers on-…" Angie was ready for another emotional downpour when the woman just raised her hand and interrupted her mid-sentence.

"What is your name, young lady?" She asked curiously.

"I'm Trainee Angela Hunter, Madam." She said politely and the woman just walked away.

"Oh, I guess she was in a hurry." Angie excused that sudden departure.

"Girl, if you took any longer to reply to a simple question, she'd be missing out on her retirement days!" Bryan pointed out and Angie laughed. She could, sometimes, be quite bubbly, without realizing it.

"Hey." The girl behind the counter interrupted them. "I added a little something I think you might enjoy. It goes with what you just said you like to read about. Let me know your thoughts."

"Okay, that's very nice of you. Thank you." Angie grabbed her pile of books and felt relieved that this mystery item turned out to be a book she had never read before.

"You know what?" Bryan said, on their way back to the dorms, to unload the books. "There's something really cute about you. I mean, you are a tough chick, but you are also very relatable. You have been here for a week and everybody knows your name, starting with Agents and ending with the cafeteria staff and the people at the library now, too."

"Yeah, I'm very sociable. I know, it's weird, coming from someone who claims they don't like to get close to people." She giggled.

"I don't think that you dislike getting close to people. Quite the contrary, actually." Bryan pointed out. "I think what bothers you is when people _leave_."

"Are you profiling me? Because, as far as I know, we haven't even started our behavior profiling lectures yet. So, you might be way off." She said teasingly.

"Oh, I'm spot on and you know it." He smirked and it got on her nerves. "Come on, pouty pants. We still have a few hours to kill before we go to bed. I'm sure you can think of something useful to do."

"As a matter of fact, I can." She stated, placing her books on his nightstand loudly. First of all, she wouldn't be bothered to go all the way to her room to leave the books. And secondly, Jack was sleeping at that moment, so every excuse to wake his arrogant ass up was an excuse Angie would gladly take up on.

* * *

Somewhere between cuddles with a hot French guy and being completely logged out of reality, Emily had managed to doze off. When she opened her eyes, she realized Richard must have asked Gustave to switch one of those heating lamps for external use, near Emily. Either that or she was sweating for a completely different reason.

Her eyes looked around lazily.

Yes, it was the lamp.

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry." She licked her lips, feeling guilty to have dozed off when in reality she was enjoying herself so much. "I've just had a lot of pressure at work lately and there is also jet lag and I uh-…"

"It's okay." His hand pushed a strand of hair away from her face.

Emily then realized something. Richard had this weird habit of staring at her face. At first she found it cute, but now it was kind of creeping her out.

As if he picked up on her thoughts, he explained himself. "You remind me of a woman from my past. That is why I keep staring at you. I find you so beautiful."

"Don't get me wrong, but I don't want to be a substitute for anyone." Emily was now running on low energy. Her twenty-minute nap had not been enough to give her a boost. It had, rather, served to make her feel even more tired.

"Oh, no, it's not like that. I never met this woman. I have only seen her around and I found her beautiful, too. She was the first woman I was interested in since the times when I was married. So, it was nothing but appreciation for a woman's beauty. Your face just reminds me of her. That's all." He explained and now Emily was curious.

"_Was_ married?" She asked curiously.

"A long time ago." That was all he volunteered to say on that topic.

"Okay, well…" This was awkward. She needed to start a new topic or she'd be risking making a fool out of herself, as usual.

"I don't want to be too direct, but since you keep hinting that you would be gone in a week, I would like to make the most of my time with you, while I hope that there is no truth to those threats of yours." He pulled out his phone and showed her a few pictures.

"A friend of mine owns this villa, it's at the French Riviera - St. Tropez. The weather is still nice, so there are still people out at the beach and around town. It would be my immense pleasure if you agreed to spend a couple of days there with me." He was a bit shy to ask, but her reply startled him.

"Yeah, sure." She said calmly.

"Really? You're not afraid I might turn out to be a serial killer or something?" He said, jokingly.

"Oh, trust me, that is the least of my worries." Emily smirked. Oh, if he only knew.

* * *

"Are you joking?" Bryan hissed silently.

He was kneeling behind a bush next to a building that looked way above their clearance level, which, by far, was at level zero.

She smirked.

"You have got to be joking!" He added.

"Come on. We were told to explore. We're only just following orders." She stood up, extending her hand for him and then dragging him over to the entrance.

"I don't think we can even enter…" He shook his head. Oh, that girl was trouble.

Angie walked up the stairs with her head held high and her hand tugging on Bryan's shirt, urging him to keep up.

"Good evening, Sir." She said politely and a random man held the door for her, on his way out.

"See? Sure we can enter!" She smirked and walked down the hallway.

A few Agents were on their way out, since it was late afternoon by then.

Angela pulled out her Trainee badge, which was nothing more than a piece of plastic. She held it against the card reader of every door she found on her way, but it did not get accepted anywhere.

She used the same tactics as before, this time a female agent held the elevator for her, and she got off at the fourth floor. Looking around, she realized she was at Counter Intelligence. This was not something she was interested in, so she opted for the elevator one more time, only to find out that, without an actual badge, the only way to go was down to the lobby.

"Well, that was a bummer." She pouted, exiting the building and immediately scanning for someplace else to go.

"That's part of the teaching center. Dan said that the other day." Bryan commented when he saw her pointing at a three-floor building.

"Teaching center? Oh, okay. We're students. Let's go learn." She smirked and, once again, dragged him along.

This time the entrance door accepted her badge. As she walked down the halls she saw instructions for all sorts of cool nerdy places – laboratories, DNA analysis lab; firearms hub; fingerprint analysis lab and many more. Her curiosity made her want to open each door and she spent about five minutes in each laboratory, just walking around and checking what was in there, without touching a thing. Not so much because she didn't want to break anything, but because she didn't want her prints to be left at a place where she might not be allowed to be at.

"Woah, that is so cool!" She squealed happily, her eyes set on a piece of machinery that, to Bryan, looked like a prototype of a phone, form the 60's.

"Yeah, okay…" He murmured.

"Are you kidding me? Do you not know what that is?" There was a tiny bit of judgment in her voice. "This is what they use for DNA amplification. A real PCR!" Her fingers lingered in the air above the machine, but without touching it. It was almost as if she wanted to caress it.

"Angie, what the Hell is PCR?" Bryan rolled his eyes. He liked gadgets, but he had no clue what any of those things in the lab were.

"PCR stands for Polymerase chain reaction. It is a method, widely used in molecular biology, to make several copies of a specific DNA segment. Using PCR, copies of DNA sequences are exponentially amplified to generate thousands to millions of more copies of that particular DNA segment. This is important for forensic DNA samples since the DNA often found at crime scenes is limited in both quantity and quality. This molecular "xeroxing" process is completed by precise heating and cooling of the samples in a thermal cycling pattern for approximately 28 cycles. Also, the process takes approximately 15-30 minutes to set-up and then approximately three hours to run on the thermalcycler instrument. So no, it's not anything like what they show in the movies." Those words of hers made Bryan realize one more thing – she wasn't joking when she took pride each time someone called her a nerd.

"Hey Google, never mind I asked." He sighed and walked over to another machine, in hopes of shutting her up.

"Oh, this one is used for the last step of DNA analysis, the capillary electrophoresis. That comes right after PCR. It's basically a-…" She saw rage on Bryan's face and she took that as a hint to shut up, which she did, immediately.

"I see someone has done her Summer readings here." A man in his 60's, wearing a white apron, scared the crap out of both of them as he stepped out from behind one of the bigger machines.

"We're sorry. We didn't mean to break in or anything. We just got lost. We're leaving." Bryan said frantically and Angie laughed.

"Grow a pair, would you?" Her words made the lab guy laugh as well.

"Biology major?" The man assumed.

"Oh, no. I just have a very wide range of interests and molecular biology, no matter how hard I find it to be, is one of them. Although, no offence, I prefer chemistry. And I hate math." Her honesty was refreshing.

"None taken. I'm actually a chemist myself. I will be teaching the Academy trainees all about DNA testing and other beautiful things." He laughed, knowing fully well that most of those trainees would hate his classes and find them hard, boring, uninteresting and useless.

"Cool!" Clearly, Angie was not one of those trainees.

"Why are you wandering around the teaching building on your day off?" He was a curious old man.

"Oh, we had nothing to do and wasting time or sleeping didn't seem fitting for two highly motivated future FBI agents, Sir." She said honestly, once again.

"What are your names?" The man smiled and extended his hand to greet them properly.

"I'm Bryan, Sir." He shook the man's hand first.

"Trainee Angela Hunter, Sir. It is nice to meet you." She then shook the man's hand.

"I'm Dr. Steinberg and you will be seeing lots of me from now on, starting with Tuesday morning after physical training." He motioned towards the door then, as he was in a hurry to close up and go home.

"I can't wait, Sir. Thank you for your time and have a good evening." She said with a smile and they walked out, in search of the next lab they could get access to.

"Photography lab, oh that sounds fancy." She sounded enthusiastic about it, but decided not to enter.

"Ballistics. Oh yes!" She was smart enough to know that there was no good excuse to break into a room, full of guns, when she was not even supposed to know how to handle a gun yet.

"Rooftop." Bryan smirked, pointing at a small sign at the end of the hallway. It led to a flight of stairs and a small door on top.

"Oh, living our best lives, aren't we?" She smirked, loving how Bryan took the initiative this time.

"Wow, this place is freaking awesome!" Walking out on the rooftop she realized it was nothing like any rooftop she had ever seen. There were a few rooms built in, each room with a different scenario of a murder.

"This must be where we learn how to gather evidence and then we go downstairs to analyze it. Damn, this is so cool!" Angie literally jumped from all the joy that her little heart was filled with.

"You are the weirdest girl I've ever met, Angela Hunter." Bryan walked over to her side and put his arm across Angie's shoulder. "And I am so incredibly lucky to know you!" He added, warming her heart a little bit.

"And I'm lucky to know a hot guy who doesn't want to get in my pants." To those words of hers, he winced. "What? I thought we were being honest and all?"

"You are a piece of work, damn it." This time it was Bryan who pulled Angie to a corner of the rooftop.

She felt the breeze hit her face. It was starting to get a bit chilly, that night it was supposed to rain again, so the weather was quite weird.

"Hey, what do you think will happen to us after the Academy?" She asked, eyeing the dorm rooms building from above.

"Well, best case scenario, we would end up working at the division of our choice. Worst case scenario, we'd fall out of the Academy." He shrugged, sitting by the edge of the rooftop and letting himself enjoy the breeze as well.

"I guess that worst case scenario is always an option, but I don't think it is applicable for us. We work our butts off and we just might be the two most highly driven trainees this year." Her hands went up in the air and it felt so good to have the breeze tickle her now naked stomach, as her shirt rode up a little bit. It was her very own Titanic moment, on the edge of the rooftop.

"What makes you say that?" He changed his sitting position as it was starting to hurt him to sit sideways.

"Look at us. Everyone else is sleeping. We spent the whole day doing things, even the smallest and most insignificant things, but with our restricted access, we couldn't have done more. And yet, we tried. And don't tell me that you only came along because I dragged you. I know you well enough by now to know that you only pretend to be annoyed when you comply with my weird requests, but deep down inside you actually want to do more, see more, know more. That's why you are my partner in crime here, quite literally. I couldn't see myself doing this crazy roller coaster with anyone else, but you." She said honestly.

Angela had never been afraid to speak her mind. If someone asked her a question, she would reply honestly, even if the answer could possibly embarrass her in front of the person, or even if the person wouldn't like the answer. She was a straight shooter. Also, she liked bringing people up, not tearing them apart. Never in her whole entire life had she ever dared to belittle anyone, judge anyone or bully anyone. She believed that every person had the right to live the way they want to and, if she didn't like it, she had the right to extract herself from that person's life, but without causing them any harm in the process. It was just the way she rolled.

That, however, did not mean that she wouldn't kick someone's ass, if it was needed, or justified.

"You seem confused." Bryan commented when he saw her dart off to her imaginary world of thoughts once again.

"I can't seem to choose. On one hand, being here feels so surreal. Everything feels like a dream and I'm constantly trying to rush things, so I can see and experience more of it before I wake up." She inhaled sharply. "On the other hand, it feels like I belong here. It's like I've always been here, just not physically at this place. I guess mentally, I was present, with other people, at a different location. I just…this place…it feels so…like, home." She smiled genuinely and felt her heart pounding.

"What if you don't get in the division you want?" He didn't mean to put an end to her happy moment, but he had to keep it real.

"Oh…" She turned around to face him before she smirked. "That ain't happening."


	18. Why Are You Pinging From Paris?

** CHAPTER 18**

_**WHY ARE YOU PINGING FROM PARIS?**_

Richard had driven Emily back to her hotel and let her sleep for as long as she would need the next morning. He had slipped her a handwritten note under the door, informing her that he would be back to see her Monday afternoon, and then he had gone back home for the night.

Emily, in turn, wanted nothing more than a shower and some good rest.

She woke up the next day, just in time for lunch. It didn't feel like Monday, if she was out of the office. It didn't feel like her life, if she wasn't between those awful brown walls, wearing those uncomfortable and unflattering black clothes. Was she actually having doubts about wanting to continue doing her job? Or was that the effect of the Chardonnay? She had only sipped on one glass of it, all evening.

There was a computer available for the guests in the hotel room and, since she was traveling without her cell phone, she decided to open her e-mail and see just how much her absence from the BAU had freaked everyone out. Or had they even noticed? Everyone had received the same e-mail, forcing them to take the week off. Maybe they all thought she was out for a vacation.

As soon as she logged into her e-mail account, her screen started to flood with messages that she barely managed to read quickly enough. Plus, she never even knew that there was a built-in live chat option, so that tiny little pop up window was surely a surprise.

_Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!_

_OMG you are alive!_

_Emily?_

_?_

_Can you hear me?_

_I mean read me. Can you READ me?_

_Hello?_

_Are you okay?_

_Where are you?_

_Oh, you're pinging._

_Wait…you're pinging!_

_Emily?_

_Why are you pinging from Paris__?_

_Please tell me you are pinging from Paris because you are out there having the time of your life with a hot French guy?_

_Wait…_

_Have you been kidnapped?_

_HAS SOMEONE DARED KIDNAP T.H.E. EMILY PRENTISS?_

_Oh, I'm getting mad!_

_Why are you not replying?_

_I knew it! You've been kidnapped._

_That's it! I'm calling 911! Wait, wouldn't it be weird if the FBI called the Police? Damn it, stupid pride!_

_You're still pinging from a hotel in Paris. There is no record of Emily Prentiss on the guest list._

_I double-checked._

_Emily?_

_EMILY!?_

Emily was suddenly overcome with uncontrollable giggles. Garcia was something else! She was beyond crazy. Once Emily typed in her reply, it seemed to help calm Garcia down maybe a tiny little bit.

_Garcia, please shut up! I'm okay. Yes, I am in Paris. No, I have not been kidnapped. Stop freaking out and update me on what's going on out there. Is everyone okay?"_

_Everyone? Yes, Emily Prentiss, everyone is just fine. You know, we haven't yet suffered a heart attack from worrying about you 24/7. Magically._

_Garcia, I appreciate a dose of sarcasm, but you need to tone it down._

_Sorry. I'm sorry. I know you're still the boss… It's just that I felt so alone without your pretty face around here and you disappeared on us and I didn't know what to make of it._

_I didn't disappear. We were forced to take the week off. I needed a change of scenery._

_With a hot French guy?_

_No comment._

_OMG, so there IS a hot French guy!?_

_No comment._

_What's his name? Send me a photo._

_Garcia...NO COMMENT!_

_Oh, so he is hooootttttt. Girl, I just started to worry a little less, knowing that there is someone who is taking reeeeeal good care of you._

_Garcia!_

_Okay. Okaaay... So, when are you coming back?_

_Sunday. Sadly. And don't you dare organize another surprise party._

_Oh, that never crossed my mind :/_

_Garcia, I'm serious. I'm getting here everything that I need to get my mind back in the game._

_Mh-huh. I'm sure you are gettin' some of that._

_Would you stop!?_

_Alright. PG 13. I get it._

_Will you, please, let everyone know I want to see them Monday morning, 9 am?_

_Woman, of you quit on us, I am going to haunt you and then I am going to find you and then...I am going to pray you don't extinguish me before I manage to hurt you at least a little bit._

_Garcia, you are something else. Hahahah._

_It was really nice talking to you again, Prentiss._

_Yeah. Same. How did you even message me so fast? I literally just logged on._

_Oh. Easy. I stalked your ass._

_Garcia!_

_What? I was really worried. You are known to just disappear for God knows how long. If not possibly forever._

Those words made Emily reflect a little. They were true. Each time Emily had something good in her life, something extremely good, she got self-conscious to the point that she'd rather bail than let herself enjoy what she deserved. She'd bail on things, jobs, but most importantly - people. The same people who helped build her up, the ones that transformed her into a better person. The more she liked someone, the faster she'd bail. That was valid not only for her relationships, but sadly, for her friendships as well.

_Gotta run. Please tell everyone to stop worrying. I'm a grown ass woman. See you Monday._

_Wait. Won't we chat again by then?_

_Don't think so._

With that line, Emily switched the computer off and went in for a shower.

* * *

"Don't you find it weird that everyone keeps asking for our names?" Angie finally came out and said it.

"No, not really. Literally no one knows us, so it's normal we are asked to identify ourselves when they see us wandering around." Bryan was a smart guy and she knew it, but God help him, he was kind of clueless sometimes.

"Our AT uniforms are identification enough!" She argued.

"Oh yeah? Look at yourself." He smirked, knowing that he had won that argument.

They were both wearing plain clothes. Nobody really said that, on their day off or at any time when they were not at training, they couldn't wear whatever they wanted.

"Would you judge me if I said I was hungry again?" Angie said shyly.

"It's only been a few hours..." Bryan commented, although if he had to be honest, he was looking forward to an actual meal.

"Let's grab something light and head to the woods." Her suggestion made him shake his head.

"Oh, Hell no! You won at lunch. Let me have a good dinner at least." He laughed and she was sure he was going to get that steak.

"Why the woods?" He added, realizing that it should be the last place she must want to go to, after Amanda's disappearance.

"Just because." She grinned and they made their way back to the food court.

Bryan insisted on paying the dinner and, since she thought she had paid for lunch, she found that to be an acceptable deal.

Angie almost sprinted to the woods, straight to the place where they had found the blood stains. They were now smeared and unclear, the rain had destroyed all visible signs of struggle, but the consequences of that night were haunting her.

"Doesn't it freak you out?" Bryan literally shivered.

"Not really." She walked off to the edge of the hill, where Amanda presumably had tumbled and fallen down from.

With her eyes, she scanned the surroundings. Then, with her mind, she assessed the situation from Amanda's point of view.

"Amanda is a bitch, not an idiot." Angie said out loud while keeping her eyes glued to the ground. "She wouldn't just wander around without being cautious. Nope. No way. My roommate is not brainless. I can't take silence for an answer. Nope. Not happening. No way. Nope!"

"Ugh. You're about to get me into some more trouble, aren't you, Hunter?" Bryan rolled his eyes.

If he had to be honest with himself, she had never _actually_ gotten him into trouble. But that was only because they had never been caught. Yet. They had just done a few risky things, no big deal.

"You bet'cha!" She winked at him, suddenly not feeling creeped out by her surroundings.

She felt something else.

Curious.

To the point where she would make it her mission in the Academy to find out what happened to Amanda.


	19. We Are Expected To Do Something

**CHAPTER 19**

_**WE ARE EXPECTED TO DO SOMETHING**_

Angie woke up, grateful that it was Monday morning. Second week of the Academy. She had so many expectations.

Dan met everyone at the auditorium and explained that they would be getting their weekly agendas on Sundays, but given the circumstances, this time they got them on Monday.

"Circumstances, my ass!" Angie rolled her eyes and Bryan had to kick her under the table, so that she wouldn't go on and shoot another snarky comment.

As it was to be expected, they started off with a two-hour intense fitness training, followed by a shower, before it was time to head back to the auditorium for their first class - crime scene investigation. They would have ballistics in the afternoon, but Angie was more than thrilled for this specific morning class.

"As future Agents, you must be able to assess a situation and individualize a threat before it even happens. You must have a sharp eye - to see what is important and what is not, at a crime scene. But firstly, you must be able to figure out _where_ is your actual crime scene. Now, we deal with more and more staged crime scenes and planted false evidence these days, so it is crucial that you keep your eyes open and your mind clear. At a crime scene, you cannot think with your emotions. You must put these in check and go in, ready for anything and everything. In this course we are going to get deep into the _what_ and _how_ of crime scene investigation; collection, preservation and transportation of evidence; while in another class you will learn about analyzing that evidence and yet another class will teach you how to use this evidence to reconstruct your crime scene, draw conclusions and come up with your profile. But, for _my_ class, just remember to stay vigilant and to observe, write down any information and collect all evidence that you find relevant to the case at hand. And, if you happen to stumble upon a crime scene, or even a staged one, we expect you to take measures and start an investigation." Their professor said.

The man was in his late 50's and he had white hair. God knows how many gruesome discoveries he had made in his career. He also seemed like someone who had extensive knowledge and who would possibly have seen it all and knows how to deal with any type of scenario. Angie already liked him and the fact that he had a nice, deep, manly voice, was a plus. He oozed authority and those were the kind of people Angie leaned towards in her life.

"Did you hear that? We are expected to do something. Oh, we are _so_ going back to our crime scene!" She whispered to Bryan.

"And goodbye steak for lunch. Or lunch at all, for that matter." Bryan whispered to himself unhappily.

The professor then poured an insane amount of information on them, starting with the right procedure of securing the perimeter of a crime scene and even measuring how much space and personnel would be required; the guidelines on collecting evidence and the right containers for preservation of each kind of evidence - hard, liquid, bodily fluids, cartridges, guns, shattered glass; fingerprint, earprint and footprint lifting, and so much more.

"Why are you not taking any notes?" Bryan nudged his friend at some point.

He had been writing things down all morning. Something about Angie's self-proclaimed nerdiness was rubbing off on him.

"I've seen CSI, duh!" She giggled, finding this lecture to be a bit basic and mentally blaming herself for having read a few too many books on the subject already.

In reality, Angela hated crime shows. If she ever saw something crime-related on TV, it would be a real documentary on some serial killer. And even then, she would be much more interested in reading a book about him, rather than watching some crappily produced video version of things. Words were facts. Edited images weren't.

"From this point on, you have access to my laboratory, room A 10 in this building. You are authorized to use any of the tools you might need, to further your learning and your technique. Just, please, do not waste materials. Be wise with everything you touch and put it to good use. Now, it was a pleasure meeting all of you and I'm looking forward to seeing you again on Friday morning, after your fitness training. Have a good and productive week, everyone." With those words, five hours after the class had started and two hours after a normal person's lunch break usually would start, the professor left the room.

"Ha! Be wise with things because the Bureau does not want to waste any money on buying you any more toys, so you better be careful playing with the rusty ol' ones you have at your disposal." Angie could not help it. Snarky remarks were her thing, even if she liked someone. And she very much liked her professor. She just never learned how to bite her tongue.

"Where are you going?" Bryan closed his book and walked after her.

"A 10." She stated, as if he didn't already know.

He then picked her slim body up and literally carried her out of the building as he walked towards the food court.

"Food!" He stated and she laughed.

"Fine, let's grab something to go and then go grab our toys and head to our crime scene." She gave up, but only because he was holding her up in the air, like a doll, and there was no chance she could defy him.

Thirty minutes later they were back at the presumed crime scene. Bryan had managed to buy sandwiches for both, while Angie had managed to go to room A 10 and grab a few things they might need.

"Hey, take a look. Those look like partial footprints." Bryan pointed out a smudged area on the ground.

"Footwear impression marks! Footprints, in criminology, refer to the impression left by a bare foot on the ground or a surface." She could not help herself. She just _had_ to correct him.

"Okay, nerd." He nudged her and laughed.

"Oh, it turns me on when people call me that." She laughed back.

It was so easy to joke with Bryan. She felt like she could be herself around him, whoever she might be, really. She wasn't too sure at this point.

"No. This is not Amanda's. This is not even a footwear mark. It looks like..." Angie kneeled and took a closer look. "Oh, damn it. Did it really have to rain?" She added out of desperation.

"Wait a minute. This here looks like a bicycle tire trace. When I was a kid, I had a mountain bike with huge tires and I'd ride it with my cousins when it rained. I loved that stupid bike!" Bryan pouted, remembering how one of his cousins had borrowed the bike and had broken it, unintentionally.

"Your point being?" Angie rolled her eyes. They had little time and he was wasting it, reminiscing about a stupid bike.

"My point is that the traces it left looked exactly like that. And the bike made little-to-no noise when you rode it. So, what if there is more to the story? What if Amanda did not fall to her death, but was rather pushed down the hill?"

"Hmm. That suggests a possible homicide. We have the victim. So, who are our suspects? What was the motive? We know the _when_ and we can pretty much assume the _how_, too. We need the _who,_ the _why_ and the exact _how_." She earned herself a look by Bryan. "What? I told you, I watch CSI all the time."

"Oh yeah? Do you like Peter or Jackson more?" He asked casually.

"Oh, Jackson all the way!" She smiled and the way she replied so calmly and genuinely made his blood freeze.

"Angie, there is neither a Peter nor a Jackson in any of the franchises of the CSI TV series." He stated, but she did not seem bothered.

"Alright. Would you like to sit and discuss that or would you rather do something useful instead?" With those words, she pushed something in his hands.

"Luminol." She called out and when Bryan did nothing, she gave him a nasty look. "You wanna play, like in the movies? Okay. I call something out and you pass it on to me. Now open the bag. Luminol!" She said once more and this time he understood what she meant.

"You know how to lift dried out blood?" He raised an eyebrow.

Yes, they had just had their first CSI class about gathering evidence, but they did not get into such details.

"I can try." Angie shrugged and he decided to trust her. "I need the oxidizing agent now."

When Bryan handed her the item, she could feel that he was trying to figure everything out.

"Luminol is a white-to-pale-yellow crystalline solid that is soluble in most polar organic solvents, however, it is insoluble in water. It is used to detect trace amounts of blood at crime scenes, as it reacts with the iron in hemoglobin. In order for luminol to show its luminescence, it must be activated with an oxidant. The activator is usually a solution containing hydrogen peroxide." She spoke while applying an even layer on the surface that she wanted to test for blood.

"Wow, you weren't kidding that you like chemistry. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew the formula for that thing, too." Bryan had some knowledge and he kind of thought he was going in the FBI Academy prepared, but he had nothing on Angela.

"C8H7N3O2." She said with a smile. "When I was younger, I had a very nice chemistry teacher at one of my schools. She taught me so many things and she even let me go in the laboratory with her, after school."

After that, she frowned.

"Whoops, I guess I just wasted the luminol. I mean, I know that it must be dark, in order for us to see the luminescence, but still, I thought we could at least see some sort of a reaction even now. It's quite gloomy out here today." She then picked out another small tool from the bag that she brought from A 10.

She was not going to give up. Her second blood test came out positive.

"Oh, well that was easy. See, this is the Kastle-Meyer test. It is the quickest and easiest way to find out if there is a possibility of a stain, or a surface, to contain traces of blood. It is not 100% accurate, but it is very helpful in situations like this. See, first you swab the surface, then you add a negative sample, then you add a drop of the chemical reagent on both samples. After that, you add a drop of hydrogen peroxide on both samples. If your test swab changes color to hot pink, then your surface tests positive for blood. The negative sample should stay clear, obviously. It is just for comparative purposes and to make sure your reagent works just fine. In cases where it is hard to test, you can first treat your swab with a tiny bit of ethanol, to increase the sensitivity." She narrated and Bryan watched their swab turn pink.

"Don't look at me like this. I'm not a genius. I literally said two sentences. It's easy to know stuff like that – you read about it, then you watch a video of the procedure, then you read it again and you remember it. Honestly, it is a really easy technique. I promise, you will be a pro in these things in no time. I'll make sure you learn everything you might ever need in your career." With a small smile, she once again stayed humble.

He handed her a few more things when she called out for them and they put everything away neatly.

"No. I need a small paper bindle first for this. You cannot put shattered glass directly in plastic containers. It's against CSI policy and by CSI I mean crime scene investigation, seen as a science, not as a TV show." She grabbed the items and stored two tiny pieces of glass. Finding glass around trees was definitely something that deserved being checked out.

"Wait. Let's try to reconstruct our crime scene. Your ideas?" She said when they were about to leave.

"Well, we were here at around 2:30 at night. It was raining. Dark. Cold. There was this heavy wind, so there is the possibility of someone approaching us by bike and us not hearing a thing. Amanda and Jack had just argued and they both wandered off. Wait, that makes Jack a suspect." He cringed.

Ever since Angie had yelled at his roommate, he had decided to side with _her_, so he had cut off contact with Jack.

It wasn't because he was following her ever move, but rather because he agreed with her point of view.

"I guess it could. However. If a bicycle was involved, Jack couldn't have possibly had the time to go after Amanda, push her off the cliff, go hide the bike and then come back to where we were standing. It was pitch black and this is an area that none of us were familiar with. Even if he ran, the timeframe is way too small to fit the crime. He was right next to us when Amanda screamed. I doubt she waited to hit the bottom of the hill, on order to scream, giving him time to get back to where we were."

"Not to mention, there is no motive. We can rule lust out. He did not seem interested in her whatsoever." Bryan commented.

"How can you be so sure?"

"He told me. It wasn't Amanda he was drooling after."

"Eww, don't tell me he also likes elder women. That Agent, what do you call her...Hotness? Is he after her as well?"

"Oh, no. She's all mine." Bryan said dreamily.

Angie rolled her eyes.

"Jack likes them young. Passionate. Wild. Smart. Beautiful. Driven. Brunette. Green eyed. Amazing toned body. And a lot of snark. Apparently."

"Oh, crap. He's into me." Angie pouted, taking that as an insult.

"Wow, someone has a pretty damn high opinion of herself." Bryan made the mistake of challenging her, to which she replied with a content nod. "I mean, you are all of that and more. But Jesus. Some modesty, no?"

"I haven't worked my ass off to be modest." Angie said while checking the mud on the ground.

"Something else is on my mind. Why kill a trainee? I mean, come on, victimology. This seems like an opportunistic kill, rather than a planned one. Nobody could have predicted her walking off, and even if so, how did they manage to see that it was Amanda in the dark? None of us saw flashlights or any type of light source going off. At best, one could have only been able to see a human frame in the dark, but couldn't even work out if it were male or female."

"Ah. Wait a minute. I saw something flashing right before the scream. I thought it was just a thunder."

"I had my eyes closed, trying to calm down and give myself reasons to not kill either of those idiots after their argument."

"You do realize that makes you a suspect, don't you?" Bryan laughed.

"I guess I can't argue my overwhelmingly strong wish to have a single room. There's my motive. But that still doesn't explain the bike. Is it possible that the tire prints were already there before everything happened?"

"No. I walked by that place earlier that evening when I wandered off. It was still not that dark."

"I forgot about that. That gives you the time to have prepared for the kill. And that, my dear, throws you right into the pool of suspects." She said contently.

"To be honest, I just had to pee behind a tree when nobody was looking. But your theory sounds way more fun." He was now making sure that all of the samples they took from the crime scene were safe and sound, tucked away into the right containers. Angie had written a few notes on each plastic or paper bag and each container.

"I guess we are all done here. For now, anyway. We would surely need to come back and check this out with a fresh pair of eyes. But for now, we still have to eat our sandwiches on the way back to campus. Our next class starts in 20 minutes and I am not going to be late for ballistics." She stated, getting up and taking the first step towards the campus.

"I would hate having to wait another second before I could see you struggle finding out where the "gun charger thing" is." He laughed sincerely and it offended Angie, but she wasn't going to show it. So, she bit back with a remark.

"Is that what your ex-girlfriend called it?" She intended to sound ironic, but those words instantly put Bryan in a really crappy mood.

He walked a bit faster and did not say a word to her until they walked into the classroom. Even then, he had the perfect excuse to be quiet and focused. Angie picked up in the bad vibes, but everyone was entitled to have bad moments, so she did not push him to speak.

Their new training officer spoke about guns and shooting and all sorts of wonderful things, but Angie did not seem too eager about this class either.

"What's wrong?" Bryan finally broke the silence, after he heard Angie sigh yet one more time.

"I'm bored." She shrugged, holding a gun and pretending to be inspecting it, as the teacher had just instructed them to do.

"You have a pretty good grip." Bryan commented.

That statement alone alarmed Angie.

One, because how on Earth would he know what a good grip was? And two, she wasn't supposed to be good.

"Movies." She excused herself, immediately grabbing the gun a little sideways and a little less correctly.

"If that gun was loaded, you'd be dead." The teacher commented as he walked by her, seeing her aim right to her stomach.

"Whoopsie." She smiled and held the gun differently. Wrongly, again.

"Look, I'm a very sarcastic person and it takes a lot of balls to be able to handle my stupid remarks sometimes. I'm aware that what I meant as a joke came out as an offense to you earlier and I just want you to know that I am sorry and that I wouldn't have said it, had I known that this was a sensitive topic for you. Lesson learned. Never happening again." She turned to face him, she just couldn't hold those words for any longer. It had been an intense couple of hours since he had gotten upset.

"That's a whole different conversation, for some other time." Bryan leaned forward, pushing the gun away from Angie who had, once again, left it unsecured. Thank God it wasn't loaded. "But I appreciate what you just said." He added hesitantly.

* * *

Emily was facing a whole new challenge after the refreshing Monday morning shower. She had one pair of clothes and one pair of very overused underwear. Not having a better option, she put them back on and went to have a stroll down the street. It was a good thing that she had the weird habit of keeping both her fake ID and her fake credit card, in the same wallet. She now had some money to splurge on things and to survive the whole week.

"Oh, Paris!" She exclaimed as soon as she walked outside.

The weather was beautiful. It was warm, but not hot, and that was the best excuse to go get a cool new jacket.

Few shops down and she was now walking with seven bags in her hands and a silly smile on her face. There were no worries inside that pretty dark-haired head of hers. For the moment being.

Finally, she gave in and bought a new suitcase, so she could bring all the goodies back to America. And once she found herself with a huge suitcase to fill, her shopaholic problems started showing.

"Oh wow, Garcia would love this!" She said to herself when she found a really cute fluffy pink pencil case with a unicorn on it.

"JJ is going to flip out!" She picked up a blouse in JJ's favorite color. She used to wear stuff like that all the time, back in her liaison days. Emily preferred her on the field, though, even if that meant wearing boring black clothes most of the time.

"Dave, awwh!" The item she picked up this time was something for the house and, really, it was more a present for Dave's wife than him.

"Alright..." She had already started using the suitcase to store all the new things, after one of her shopping bags gave up on her and the contents of it had rolled down the street as she was crossing.

"That only leaves Reid. That's a hard one to shop for." She murmured underneath her breath, walking aimlessly by this point.

"Catherine?" She heard a man call out from behind her and she froze.

"Wait up." The man added and it was then that Emily Prentiss decided to do something highly untypical for her.

She ran for her dear life.


	20. An Extraordinary Girl

**CHAPTER 20**

_**AN EXTRAORDINARY GIRL**_

Emily took three different buses, with no ticket in hand, hoping she would have successfully escaped from the person who was tailing her.

Finally, all sweaty and out of breath, she walked about twenty blocks, back to her hotel.

"Lauren?" Another male called out for her as soon as she walked in the hotel lobby.

Emily nearly jumped.

"Hey, hey?" He said calmly, as he approached her. "Is everything okay?"

Without giving it much thought, she immediately counter-attacked the hand that she felt sliding on her left shoulder.

When she turned around, she regretted it.

"Richard?" She licked her lips guiltily, letting go of his hand. "I'm sorry. I just, I thought…"

She had no excuse. Or rather, none other than: _I thought you were a dangerous international criminal who had found the alias of my ex-alias and is now going to shred me into pieces, like he once promised me he would, which would inevitably result in me faking my own death for the third time and I am just sick and tired of doing that._

"You thought I was a burglar?" Richard laughed, not even mentioning the fact that, if Emily wanted, he could have been thrown down to the floor in two seconds. That woman was tiny, but apparently also strong.

"Sort of, yeah." She shrugged, pulling the suitcase closer to her.

"Someone did a little shopping?" He smiled and offered to help her carry it upstairs.

That also meant that he had just invited himself to her room. But, wasn't it only fair, since he had paid the hotel for her?

They walked out of the elevator and towards the room and Emily felt something weird. She felt a little self-conscious. Usually she wouldn't care what a man thought of her – if she wanted to fool around, she'd be pretty straight forward about it. But with Richard, somehow, things were different. _She_ was different. And going by a fake name did not help her figure out what the Hell it was that she actually wanted from him.

"There." He left the suitcase at the doorstep and staid back.

"Oh, it's okay. You can come in." There it was – her instinct was telling her that she wanted him to enter the room.

However, he walked in and sat down on the sofa. No advances were made and Emily felt a little…weird.

She busied herself, hanging the new clothes in the wardrobe while Richard switched on the news channel, entertaining himself.

"Actually, I came here to see if you wanted to hang out. There is a beautiful châteaux just outside Paris and it is breathtaking this time of the year. The gardens are exquisite, the fountains are illuminated at night and there are loudspeakers, playing old French chansons everywhere, including the outdoors area. So, would you like to visit it?" He smiled and God help Emily, this man had a beautiful smile.

Also, Emily was more than eager to go, for two reasons. One, she could put on that cute black dress that she had just bought, pairing it with her new shoes and the leather jacket, too. And she might have swayed towards the lip tattoo section of lipsticks at Sephora, getting herself something nice and long-lasting. Just in case.

"Oui, j'aimerais y aller." She made him smile again, telling him, in perfect French, that she would like to go to that place.

"Très bien, ma belle dame." He did not just call her his beautiful lady. Did he? Yes, he did.

Awhhh. Poor heart of Emily's.

"Just give me some time to get ready, okay?" She closed the door to her bedroom, so she could have some privacy to change and do her make-up.

Fifteen minutes later, she walked out, looking like a snack, in his eyes.

"Wow. Très jolie!" And he just called her pretty, too. Emily liked being Lauren. A lot.

He switched the TV off and stood up, walking to her side and offering for her to lock hands as he stuck his elbow out, like a true gentleman.

One thing was not clear to Emily – why the heck had he not kissed her yet? Not even a peck on the lips. Not even the usual kiss on the cheeks, the one that French people were so famous for. This was confusing. He had seemed so into her the night before, and there he was now, perfectly elegant and cordial, but unemotional. It made her feel like he was more her bodyguard, than her date…or whatever this was. It was confusing. But he was hot and he was not an FBI agent and he had no idea who she really was, so she was damn fine with how things were going at the moment.

And, just in case things changed, Emily had a solid lipstick that would not smudge or fade.

They made their way to Richard's car and Emily took a moment to take in its beauty. She finally understood Tara's passion for cars. Up until that moment, for Emily, cars were big, small, red, white or black. That was it. She never cared about models, appearance or interior. If a car had all four wheels and it moved, it was good enough.

Richard opened the door for her to get in and she could not help it, she had to look around, scan the outside area, right in front of the hotel. She had a really bad feeling in her stomach, it felt like she was being watched. Stalked. Preyed.

For the first half an hour in the car, Emily was quiet. She kept looking out the window, with a melancholy expression on her face. Richard assumed that she just disliked all the traffic, getting out of the city, but when they hit the freeway, he could not help but ask.

"Are you okay?" His eyes only looked away from the road for a second, searching for Emily's eyes.

"Yeah…" She said weakly, denying him eye contact.

"Are you hungry maybe? Tired? Do you want to stop somewhere and get some coffee?" He offered, eyeing a petrol station ahead of them.

"No, I'm fine. I'm still jet-lagged and getting used to not being at work. That's all." She was a good liar, usually, but this time she failed at sounding convincing.

"What is your job?" He said while taking the right side lane, as he soon had to switch to a different highway.

"Oh, I…" She only had three seconds before it would be obvious that she had made it all up. "I work with people."

"Yeah? I bet it's tiring. People can be cruel sometimes. Ruthless. They can talk, a lot." He laughed at his own statement. There was no better way he could explain himself.

"Something like that." Emily finally laughed as well.

Everything that Richard said was valid, for her job. So, she consoled herself, thinking that she hadn't lied _too_ much about this. She just never mentioned that the people she worked with were serial killers, but that was hardly a second date appropriate topic.

If that was even a date.

As soon as he took the right highway, he relaxed a little and stopped paying attention to the signs. It was now all straight ahead and park the car in about an hour and a half from where they were.

While Emily once again got lost deep in her thoughts, wondering if she was giving this man hot and cold vibes all the time – once kissing him, then falling asleep on their first date, something caught her attention.

Richard's hand slipped to Emily's knee and stayed there for a few seconds. It was so sweet, such a small gesture made her feel so good. It also made her even more confused, as she realized that he was most definitely also giving her hot and cold vibes.

"I don't know a lot about you, Lauren. But I can tell that you are an extraordinary woman." He said casually.

"Ha!" She exclaimed quietly. "Well, I guess you are somewhat right. I mean, there is pretty much nothing ordinary about me."

"Good. Ordinary people bore me." He laughed again.

Emily could not recall the last time she was with someone, even just a friend, who made her laugh and who was so random and gentle and fairytale-like amazing.

_"__She's __an Extraordinary girl__, in an ordinary world…And she can't seem to get away…"_ Emily sang to herself quietly.

"Green day?" Richard immediately commented.

"Yeah, yeah." She turned to face him. "Oh my God, I thought I was the only one too old to be listening to such music!"

"Ha ha. No way. Their music is fun. Although, I have to say their American Idiot album seems a bit overpraised." His hand was now once again on the steering wheel and she hated it that way.

"Absolutely. All the kids liked that album. My favorite would have to be the 21st Century Breakdown." She was suddenly feeling quite bubbly.

"Oh, I can relate to that one." He laughed.

"Same, yeah. Same!" She laughed as well.

"Speaking of random youngster things, I should mention that I like roller-skating. Although that is hardly a manly thing to admit." He shook his head as he spoke.

"You only say that because you don't know how a woman sees a man who does any sport, especially with a child. I remember I once wanted to date a guy I knew nothing about, but he was so cute, skating with the neighbor's kid every morning. I almost ran him over one time as I backed out of my parking spot." She laughed, but her latter statement left Richard a bit perplexed. "The man, not the child!" She added, but it still did not seem normal. "He's fine. And for the record, he never wanted to see me after that. I have really bad luck with men."

"Oh, don't say that. You never know when you'll meet the right man for you and your luck would change." He tried so hard to come off neutral, but she knew exactly what he was insinuating.

"Well, I guess you never know when you might meet the right person, yeah." She agreed with him, blushing a little bit and being beyond obvious about what she meant, too.

He sighed and did something quite unexpected.

He had been driving with the same steady pace so far, but then something made him want to slow down and pull over, in the emergency lane of the highway.

"What-…" Emily said, confused.

Without saying a word, Richard leaned towards her and she finally got to test out that new lipstick of hers.

"Mmh." In her whole entire life Emily Prentiss had never let out a single sound escape her lips during a kiss.

She was not a moaner.

Or so she thought.

Then they both laughed.

"Well, nice song." Emily pointed out, as _Peaches And Cream_ came up on the radio.

"Very fitting, indeed." He smirked against her lips, his right hand traveling up her arm and stopping at her neck, slowly pulling her to him for another kiss.

As soon as they both had the mental capacity to be thinking of anything other than their lips, they realized that it was not a good idea to just stay on the side of the highway, so they headed towards their destination.

On their way, they discussed the most random things – from favorite food spices, all the way to the current situation in the Russian government.

Richard was, other than very random, quite like Emily, but also – extremely intelligent. And that was a huge turn on for Emily. As if she needed more of those.

* * *

Angie spent the whole evening in ballistics class. At least she had made up with Bryan, so the class was a bit more enjoyable than she had originally found it to be.

They learned about cartridge cases, bullets, different type of guns, but what was most interesting was the gun shot residue discovery, collecting and analyzing process. That was the part of the class during which Angie yawned a little less.

"You know that you sometimes give out the vibe of a know-it-all, right?" Bryan nudged her, sticking her tongue at her.

He had never been childish. He had been a macho guy, a player, an athlete and many other things, but never childish. However, there was something fun about being random when he was around Angie. She made him laugh, she never got upset when he teased her and she was not the type of girl who was afraid to tease back and he respected that, a lot.

"I can't help it. I've been told that I have a resting bitch face when I'm bored or annoyed. I mean, I can fake a lot of things in life, but annoyance is not one of them. Unfortunately." She added her last word while yawning, thus proving his point.

"Okay, that is it for this class. I will see you later on this week." Their teacher stated and literally everyone was relieved they were free for the evening.

Wrong.

Oh, so wrong.

Dan walked in and felt the urge to ruin their evening plans.

"Excuse the interruption. I failed to mention one thing earlier. While it is true that you have a weekly agenda, you are also required to quickly adapt to changes. So, good luck in your SWAT training. Room A 05, at the end of the hallway. You are welcome. Oh, you also have five minutes to get there." Dan was, singlehandedly, the most hated person in the FBI Academy. Little did the Trainees know, he would soon become their best friend. Or worst enemy.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" Angie dropped the piece of paper that she held in one hand, from when she pretended to be taking notes earlier, and she sprinted out of the auditorium like a bat out of hell.

"Angela Hunter." Bryan said, walking by Dan and sensing that Dan was eyeing the girl who ran out the door, probably being curious to know who that girl was. She seemed like the only one who was excited about the training.

"I know." Dan told Bryan with a smile.

Five minutes later, everyone reported to A 05. Once again, they were divided into big groups and some of the groups were told that they would do their training the following week, so they were now free to go. Nobody found it weird, since the space was hardly enough to fit everyone and allow every person to have a good learning experience.

Jack was among the ones who got sent away and Bryan was okay with that. Angie seemed indifferent. She was known to be feisty when upset, but then she would literally not care and she would move on quickly after an argument. She was, also, not an ordinary girl.

Their training officer introduced himself. He had been with the Bureau for twenty-six years, spending most of his time in the hostage rescue division. He was huge and muscular, with big dark brows and curly black hair. He seemed angry all the time, just judging by his facial expression. Quite frankly, seeing this man out on the streets would be quite intimidating for anyone. Angie loved him already.

The only boring thing he said was in his very first sentence, when he let everyone know that SWAT actually stood for special weapons and tactics. That was common knowledge. Before Angie could start yawning from boredom again, a huge amount of information was being poured at her. Every time she blinked, there was something new happening and something important was being said. She was in Heaven and Bryan noticed it.

"Ah, my kind of girl." He commented.

"I'm still not going to sleep with you." She didn't even look at him. It was crucial that she would always let a man know where he stood with her.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that." Bryan smirked.

Angela was a girl of mystery, but Bryan was quite the hat, full of tricks, himself.

The training officer asked for a volunteer to come up and try to go through the procedure of dressing up in the gear, securing the gear, checking the weapons and running to a mock crime scene. He wanted to see if the trainees had any idea what they were getting themselves into, before he would explain the whole procedure to them and force them to memorize every little step.

Bryan volunteered, stepping forward. He was briefly given basic instructions and a chronometer started ticking. He had to do everything in under three minutes, and that was often impossible, even for an actual working agent.

He ran to a huge table, full of gear, going through the items quickly and picking up what he needed. Bulletproof vest, clothing, holster for his gun, everything down to the last detail. He threw everything on quickly, securing the little straps and zips, without missing a single one.

Then it was time to sprint to a corner of the room where, on the floor, several weapons were laying.

He picked a few up and inspected them quickly. At the end he chose a standard handgun and a rifle. A smoke grenade was secured safely to his belt and the guns then got loaded, secured and put in their place.

Without much pressure, he walked back to the training officer and smirked, pressing the chronometer, which stopped at two minutes and thirty-five seconds.

"Impressive." The officer said, shaking his head in disbelief. He had not expected that, out of a trainee.

"Seven years in LAPD SWAT, Sir. 20-David in command." He said with pride.

"Oh, a Sergeant?" The officer asked.

"Yes, Sir. I was squad leader for the last two years of service." Bryan saluted the man, as a military officer would.

"No shit!" Angie's jaw dropped. "I knew you were not a dull one, Bryan, David, or whatever your name is."

Bryan had started off normal. He always acted shocked when Angie suggested them doing something wild or risky. He was hesitant about breaking the rules and she had to keep reminding him to grow a pair before hanging out with her.

But all through that, deep down inside Angie knew that there was a wild side to this man. That is what made her so attracted to him. She was waiting for him to bloom out of his shell of boredom and ordinary, and turn into something exciting. That moment was the one she was waiting for and she felt overwhelming pride when she finally witnessed it.

"Your SWAT training is definitely going to help you here. However, we do things differently, so you might want to be open for suggestions and corrections, because from now on it would be even harder to adjust to a new routine and way of doing things. The other trainees are privileged in a way, as they start from scratch, and they only get to learn the FBI way. You, however, I'm going to keep an eye on." The officer then pointed for Bryan to take his place back with his peers.

Bryan took everything off of him and, once back into the plain trainee uniform, he joined Angie.

"David is a ranking, not a name." He cringed, having overheard her words earlier.

"I know. I just wanted to be an ass about it." She smirked, nudging him with pride. "Dude, you are so cool!"

"Stop it. You're not driving my car!" He knew what she wanted. Each time she had given him a compliment, she had turned the conversation into her begging him to lend her his car. Angela was not a car fan, but his car seemed pretty and she would look very bad ass, driving it. Clearly, though, that was not happening.

"Fine then, David!" She stuck her tongue at him and he rolled his eyes.

If he had to be honest with himself, he didn't mind lending his car to her. But he would make her sweat for it before that happened. It was just so much fun watching Angie squirm.

Their SWAT class was intense. Finally, Angie found her pace. She was invested from beginning to end. Bryan noticed how she followed the officer's every move, imitating him, absorbing everything for the next two hours of instructions.

"Okay, that was all of the instructions you will get today." The man announced and saw relief in everyone's eyes.

"Now, on to the battlefield!" It gave him great pleasure to shatter their dreams of going to bed before midnight, that evening.

He opened a door which lead to the outdoors area. It was dark by now, so the trainees couldn't make much of it, but soon it would all be clear.

"This is a mock crime scene. You have ten minutes to get your gear and, in groups of five, you are going to walk in and save your hostage. Or multiple hostages. Who knows? In the real world, we never know what we are dealing with. You have to communicate with each other, watch your backs, back each other up and figure out who is a threat and who is a victim. You need to figure out the best point of entrance, the best tactics and, if needed, you have to negotiate for your victim. In this case, though, you are going against cardboard cutouts, so this makes it easier. But later in the weeks, we have real people, acting as threats and hostages. You are not allowed to take a bad decision, as one of those can cost someone's life. Act quick, think even quicker and stay vigilant. Okay, first group is up." He had been speaking while everyone changed into their gear and now he was pointing at the entrance of a labyrinth-looking open-space route.

Angie was in the second group of five, while Bryan was in the third, which gave them plenty of time to strategize, if that was even possible. From where they were all standing, they could only see the outside of where the other trainees were trying their luck out. It was dark, the walls were made of plastic, just to create the illusion of a closed space, for training purposes. They could hear gunshots and as soon as the first few fired, a huge red buzzer on top of the closed space started flashing and beeping.

"Congratulations. You just killed your hostage, with the second bullet you fired." The training officer now looked extremely mad. Angie could clearly see it in his eyes – he thought all of them were idiots. Well, she wanted to prove him wrong.

"Group two, please, be a little less ignorant!" He let out a sigh, waving for Angie's group to take positions.

"Alright, follow my lead. Fist in the air – stop in place. Two waves forward – progress. Pat on the shoulder – I'm covering for your ass. Nobody fires the gun before we know what we are dealing with. Come on, guys, stay vigilant!" Her little pep talk made her four male group-mates feel a bit uncomfortable. If that was because she was a girl, then screw them. If it was because they wanted to be the group leader, well, they should have acted on it earlier.

Angie's hand waved in the air, twice, letting them know that they were about to enter. She felt a pat on her shoulder and she smiled. So, she was a cute young girl with a bow in her head, but apparently, she had authority with the big muscular guys. That was cool, she thought to herself.

Reaching a corner of the labyrinth, she put her right hand in a fist, above her head. She barely managed to look behind her, and she noticed everyone had frozen in place.

With her first still in the air, preventing them from moving, she took a few steps forward, making sure there was no threat behind that corner. A few seconds after she released her fist, she felt two pats, one on each shoulder. Damn, it felt good to have back up.

"Two armed men at five." She whispered for her teammates and they all took cover, as to not be seen.

"No sign of the hostage." One of the guys added.

"Impossible entry. We will get made right away." The other one scanned their surroundings, looking for an alternative way to enter the space where the two cardboard enemies were waiting for them.

"Two, two. Gimme two!" Angie said and after no reaction was received, she turned to the guys. "Yo, that means I need back-up!"

One of the guys followed her and she asked for him to push her up. The labyrinth space was made out of plastic walls, only a bit higher than the trainees' height. Never in the briefing had the training officer mentioned that they should treat those as real, actual walls. In fact, he had said that they must assess each situation individually and see what they are working with. And Angie had a plastic wall between her and two armed cardboard cutouts. She would use that to her advantage.

The guy picked her up and secured her while she rolled over to the other side of the wall. She had taken the villains by surprise, appearing from behind them, so she was able to eliminate them with one clean shot each.

"Clear!" She called out and her four teammates joined her in that room, using the door.

There were two more exit doors on the other side of the wall, meaning they had to divide and secure both exits before searching for their hostage.

"Gimme two!" The guy who had picked Angie up a minute ago, called out. It was her turn to return the favor, so she pat his shoulder and went to the left door with him, while the other three guys took the right door.

Angie's partner put a finger up in the air, then two fingers, then three, counting down their time before the attack. With three fingers in the air, he waved his hand forward and kicked the door down. Angie walked in first, followed by him. They both went in opposite directions, searching behind cardboard couches and fake wardrobes, tables and other furniture.

"I got her!" Angie called out, seeing a strand of fake blond hair poke out the fake wardrobe door.

Carefully, she opened the door and found a cardboard figure of a young girl, about ten years old, wearing a blond wig.

"Hey, nice hiding place." She smiled. Yes, it was all pretense, but it was training and they had to be as authentic as possible.

"What's your name? I'm Angie. I'm here with the cool kids. Want to come hang out with us?" She held her hand out to the fake girl and she smiled. "It's okay. I won't hurt you. You can trust me. I'll take you back to your parents."

While Angie was trying to establish contact with, what was presumed to have been a very freaked out young kid, a cardboard enemy dropped from the ceiling and was now right behind her.

Her partner kept his eyes on the room, Angie and the door, so as soon as the enemy appeared, he fired a shot and took him out.

A green light started flashing above their heads and they evacuated the premises. As the group of five neared their training officer, Angie was holding the hostage in her hands and still mumbling something to the fake girl.

"Okay, feedback time. You…" The officer said, pointing at Angie. "You have technique and you were quite brave to offer yourself as a leader. On the positive note, you took a second to make your commands clear to your team before the breach. On a negative note, you ramble a bit too much. Tone down the chatter, up the speed instead. You took a bit too long to enter that last room when your partner opened the door, giving an enemy the time to blitz attack you. However, you knew the protocol - the second person enters the room, and never the one who opened the door. You also stayed calm and collected through everything and you found a different way to enter the room with the enemies and to take them out. And last, but not least important – you initiated contact with the victim. You introduced yourself in a way that someone her age would understand and you tried to make it easier for her to trust you and to come with you. That is very, _very_ good."

Angie smiled a little bit. They were having their feedback in private, so that none of the following groups would draw inspiration from what they heard the officer say. That also meant that she got a compliment in front of only four people, her teammates, but she didn't care. She appreciated every word and it felt good.

The man then evaluated the other guys' work and moved on to the third group, the one where Bryan was assigned to, with two other guys and two girls.

Having heard that he was a SWAT agent previously, everyone automatically assigned Bryan as their group leader and it did not go unnoticed by the officer. It was important to have a good relationship with the people you go out on the field with.

"You go, bro!" Angie cheered for him from the sidelines, just as Bryan had round everyone up and was explaining his own tactics and commands.

That made him smile, however, the training officer gave her a nasty look. He had just scolded her for chatting too much during her own mission and now there she was – chatting up the next group of trainees.

"Sorry. They say it's my charm, my bubbly personality. I can't help it." She whispered to the elder man.

"Zip it!" The way he said those words made her freeze and shut her mouth. That man was beyond scary.

Bryan's group ended their exercise a whole minute faster than Angie's group. Time was of the essence in such missions and Bryan got complimented for it. He also got scolded about a couple of insignificant things, but that could be due to the fact that their training officer had a strong dislike for LAPD and now Bryan was on his radar, with every little thing he did.

"Congratulations, you saved the princess!" Angie smirked once Bryan joined her in the waiting area.

"That was an easy one." He shrugged.

"I bet you've seen worse, back in your amazing days as David in LAPD. How come you never told me about that?"

"You never asked." He shrugged. On one hand, that was true. On the other hand, he didn't like prancing around and shoving his accomplishments in people's faces. So far, he was more than glad that nobody knew anything about his previous training background.

"And it's Bryan! David is a ranking. Jesus, you are the annoying little sister I never wanted to have!" He rolled his eyes and his right hand messed up Angie's hair, making her frown and start slicking it back in place, making sure her tiny blue bow was intact.

After that, they hung out and waited for the other groups to finish their assignment. Two groups later, Angie was bored out of her mind. She tugged on the side of Bryan's pants, as to get his attention, and she wandered off back inside the training room where their class had been held.

She started checking out the different guns and Bryan took the initiative to explain a few of their characteristics.

"Ooooooh, that's a SAW!" Angie clapped her hands, like a happy little child, as her eyes spotted a gem, in between the other rifles.

"Yup. M249 Squad Automatic Weapon, or SAW, as they call it. That one is a beauty. 5.56mm cartridge, 800 meter aim, easily. It was first developed through an army-led research in the 70's, but it wasn't until mid-1980s that SAW was issued as a one-for-one replacement for the designated automatic rifle, the M16A1." Bryan summed up a few things about the weapon.

"SAW was made to replace the retired BAR, the Browning Automatic Rifle. In its early stages of life, the Army came up with a PIP, a Product Improvement Program, for SAW. The "PIP kit" modifies the barrel, handguard, stock, pistol grip, buffer, and sights." Dan's voice added, as he walked towards them, startling both of them.

"Are you a ghost? How do you just appear behind people?" Angie said out loud and it made Dan laugh.

"I was here this whole time, actually. I was sat all the way back in there, reading e-mails on my phone, when one very curious lady and one very well trained man walked in and started snooping around." He commented with his hands in his pockets.

"Uhm, we were never told not to do so. So, technically, we did nothing wrong. Plus, we didn't break or damage anything. It's just curiosity." Angie offered her sweetest, most innocent smile. She knew that people could never resists that.

"I never said it was wrong. It is just…unusual." Dan's eyes scanned Angie up and down. That made her shiver a little bit. Dan was annoying, but he was also quite the authority figure in the Academy. If Dan disliked you, you were done. That was pretty much a given.

"Can we, maybe, stay then? There is one more hour of training and both of us were among the first groups to try out. We are so bored out there, just waiting. We can't even watch what the other groups are doing, nor hear their feedback. We're just hanging there, like idiots. I kind of want to do something more…exciting. New. Learn something. Isn't that what the Academy is for?" Angie oozed passion when she spoke about the Academy.

"Wait a minute here." Dan walked to the outside area and said something to their training officer.

"Okay, follow me." He said, as soon as he joined them again.

"Look, Dan, I like you and all. But there is no way I'm cutting class for you." Angie crossed her hands in front of her chest and did not move an inch.

"Trainee Hunter, your training officer is aware of the fact that you are going to spend the next couple of hours with me." Dan laughed.

He usually never laughed. At most, he smiled, but he was never obvious about it. But Angela was making it so easy for people to feel comfortable and be themselves.

"Alright then." She said calmly and the three of them walked out and in a direction that she was not familiar with.

They exited the training building and went over to one of the actual FBI buildings. Dan used his credentials at the door, since neither Angie nor Bryan had the clearance to get in there with their own badges. They both received a visitor sticker-badge, so they could freely roam the building without anyone asking for their credentials. Moreover, trainees in their uniforms were frowned upon, when seen around those hallways. But in Dan's company, it was alright.

"Oh my God! Seriously? We can use that?" Angie's jaw dropped as they walked in the place where Dan wanted to take them to.

"Only today, and only under my strict supervision." Dan needed to make sure that they knew they were not allowed to go back in there without supervision.

"That is the coolest thing I've ever seen!" Angie took a few steps forward and admired everything she saw. This was what the FBI Academy had looked like, in her dreams. Not the boring basic theory classes, not the auditorium full of trainees, but this. This was everything. This was Heaven. This was where Angela wanted to be at.


	21. You Broke Me! How Dare You?

** CHAPTER 21**

_**YOU BROKE ME! HOW DARE YOU?**_

The BAU team had just spent the past 24 hours apart and, as much as they all thought they could actually have some rest and make the most out of this week of vacations, they just could not handle it.

On Monday evening, texts started being darted between all of them, first in private and then in the group chat, the one where Emily would be the only one not to reply, nor read anything. Her mobile phone was currently on the nightstand, by her bed at home, switched off and waiting for her return at the end of the week. She had no intentions to contact anyone, nor did she have to.

_"__Guys, JJ and I were just saying that we should get together and chat."_ Matt was the first one who texted the group.

_"__Oh, thank God someone broke the awkward silence! Garcia and I were texting the same, in private."_ Tara replied.

_"__I just bust out some mean ribs on the barbeque outside. Anyone want to join?" _Dave offered.

In reality, he was at home, in his pajama, sipping on a cup of tea and being bored out of his mind. But he knew exactly how to get everyone together. Dave was the best host, among their group, and the fact that he lived in a huge and amazing house, with plenty of outside area, was a plus. Also, he was of Italian origins, so he always had the good wine at home.

_"__Oh, yes! I'll be there in an hour. Is there anything I can bring?"_ Luke replied.

_"__Bread! We have none."_ Dave laughed as he texted Luke a reply. _"And Lisa. Yeah, spouses and significant others are welcome. JJ, I would love to see Henry and Michael as well. Bring everyone. See you when you get here."_

Everyone shot back a quick text, confirming their presence and making plans to bring something for the late dinner party.

An hour later, the first ones arrived – JJ, Reid, Will and the kids. Then Tara and Garcia arrived in Tara's newly upgraded retro car. Garcia had taken tons of selfies both inside and outside. She was, however, not granted permission to climb to the rooftop for a mermaid-like selfie, as she had originally planned.

Matt drove Luke and they both came alone. Matt's wife stayed home as two out of their four kids were sound asleep already and she was exhausted from work all day. Luke, well Luke had different reasons to come unaccompanied.

Dave's wife parked outside, just as the last guests were arriving. She walked out of the car and opened the trunk, revealing three bags, full of groceries.

"Dave, I thought you had everything sorted out." Matt frowned, helping David's wife Krystall grab the bags and carry them to the house.

"Yeah, I might have exaggerated a bit. I just wanted to trick you all to come over." Dave smirked.

After he had invited everyone, Krystal had offered to make a quick run to the nearest supermarket and grab the things they needed. Truth was, there were no ribs, the barbeque was not on and there was no plan for even having dinner that night. He just wanted to see everyone and promising them food always worked.

"Ah, you sneaky man." Luke nudged David and he carried the last bag to the kitchen.

Krystal and the girls stayed in the kitchen, chatting away and chopping things for the garnish and the salad, while the boys started the barbeque and grilled some meat, chatting about guy stuff.

"Garcia, what's wrong?" JJ noticed how Garcia wasn't her quirky self.

"It just feels weird doing this without Prentiss." She shrugged in reply.

"I know, but you have to understand that she is a grown woman and if she needs a week away from us, she is entitled to her privacy. She's had it pretty rough lately. We can't stalk her and beg her to talk to us or to hang out with us." Tara gave Garcia a small hug before she continued chopping veggies.

Garcia looked to the floor, with that adorable guilty expression on her face.

"Oh, God. You already stalked her, didn't you?" Tara exclaimed, although it did not surprise her, really.

"A little." Garcia admitted while cutting the cheese into small bites.

"Did she reply? What did she say?" JJ asked curiously. She was on board with giving Emily space, but she was also curious to know everything.

"Well, she is fine. I guess that's good. She said she won't make contact until Monday morning, when she wants to meet all of us at the BAU, 9 am." Garcia recalled their chat.

"If she dares leave the BAU, I am going to strangle her!" JJ was not even half-joking about it.

Lately, JJ had this overwhelming hunch that Emily was done with the FBI, this time for good. The past three weeks since the case that went horribly wrong, Emily had not been herself. She walked around aimlessly, she seemed detached from her friends and she buried her head in paperwork, just to avoid dealing with the consequences of that case. It wasn't news to a profiler that denial was the worst way to cope with things and Emily was spiraling.

"No, I don't think so. I also threatened her, although _you_ can actually hurt her, while I'd probably pee in my unicorn pants before I could raise a hand at _the_ Emily Prentiss…" Garcia admitted. She was not intimidating, at all. But JJ was. "She just said she wanted to talk to all of us on Monday, when we get back to work."

"Good. Because I am done with people leaving!" JJ excused herself, under the pretense that she had to go rinse her hands well with soap, in the bathroom.

Instead, she locked herself in the bathroom and felt her ragged breathing and her heart beating faster than she assumed was normal. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and she saw sadness, her blonde hair made her face look even more pale and that sense of worry that she had been trying to suppress for the past three weeks, finally took over all of her senses.

As soon as her eyes blinked, tears started falling. It was beyond her control. The more she tried to stop, the heavier the tears felt. A few of them landed on her shirt, making a tiny wet stain, but she wasn't too worried. The stain on her shirt would dry. But what would happen on the stain inside on Emily's soul, after that case? Would it go away? Would it only grow bigger until it was too much for her to handle and she would flip?

JJ splashed some cold water on her face and, opening her mouth to breathe in, she felt the saltiness of her tears, still strolling down her cheeks. In a moment of despair, she did the only thing that could ever calm her down – she dialed a number she knew by heart.

"H-…Hi." She said with a hiccups in between. "I know you need your time and space. But please, I'm begging you, please don't leave. I can't handle it. I don't know what I would do without you in my life…in my career. Please, whatever is going on with you, I know you are suffering and you are trying to be strong on the outside, while everything on the inside is eating you up and tearing you apart, but please, I'm begging you, please, please don't leave. I'm sick of people leaving! I know that I can't help it, I can't change your mind and I can't control your actions, but for once in your life, consider that you leaving is only harming the rest of us. It's not going to help you in any way. If you start a new life, new identity, somewhere on the other side of the world, what happened that day, in that building, is always going to stay with you. Emily, we know what happened. I saw it with my own eyes. It was not your fault! Nobody is judging you. You've been cleared by the Bureau. Yes, the BAU is in a shitty place right now, but things will change. You leaving is not going to fix anything. Please, don't leave!"

JJ was now in full on panic mode, speaking fast and then slow, breathlessly, acting irrational. She wasn't even sure if her voice message would ever get heard, but she had to pour it all out. She could not keep it to herself, the same way that Emily could not keep her sorrow to herself any longer.

"The last time you left, it changed us. It took us months to master the art of acting normal again, and yet again, on the inside we were broken. Even me and Hotch, and we knew the truth. You broke us, Emily. You broke us once, don't you dare break us again! Do you hear me? I still have nightmares from the night we found you bleeding out. It took everything I had in me, to tell everyone that you were dead. And while they all dealt with it in their own way, I had to carry the burden of the lie and deal with it, on my own. I couldn't trust anyone with the truth. Hotch is not exactly the guy to go cry to. You broke us, Emily Prentiss. You broke everyone, but mostly – you broke _me_! How dare you? You broke me so hard that, when you came back, I held resentment for you for a whole month. I could not stand seeing you in the hallways, I evited the bullpen when you were around and I hated every single time I saw you smile. You want to know why? Because I judged you for being able to get over it and move on, while on the inside you left me broken, Emily Prentiss. I love you, but I also hate you for that. I promised myself that if you leave again, I would never go back to the FBI. Because, no matter how much I resented you for that stunt, I love you. With all my heart. Endlessly. I love you so much that it hurts to even think about a possibility of never seeing you again. I hate seeing you hurt, I hate knowing that you are broken on the inside. I hate it when you close yourself off and pretend that you are okay. I hate how stubborn you are and I hate how easy it is for you to pretend like you are okay. I hate how good you are at your job and how easy you make it for all of us to work with you. I hate it when you are right, and that's basically always. I hate how smooth you are with your words and how convincing you can be. I hate everything about you, Emily Prentiss! Most of all, I despise the idea of waking up one day and knowing that I wouldn't spend the next 15 hours with you…you, selfish, nasty, human being! You, stubborn woman! You, you inconsistent, narcissistic bitch!"

JJ was on a roll. If Emily did not understand that all this hatred came out of love, that was _her_ loss. JJ's words were not hateful at all. It was her own way of expressing something completely different than hate.

"You make people love you and then you leave them! How is that fair? Why do you always get to start over, leaving the rest of us in the mud, huh? Why is it that you are entitled to have it your way, but you don't give a crap about the way you make all of us feel?" By this point, JJ was beyond lost.

She found herself squished between the toilet seat and the corner of the bathroom, sitting on the cold floor tiles, wiping hot tears with the sleeves of her shirt and not giving a damn about the rest of the world.

"I hate seeing you leave a crime scene unharmed and you want to know why?" She was slurring her words, hiccups took over her and she was just a whole lot of a mess. "Because I can't even be happy about you being fine. Because I know that there _will_ be a next time and that next time you might not be fine and that scares the crap out of me. I hate the idea of anyone getting hurt, but what I hate the most is the idea of _you_ getting hurt. Because each time you get hurt, Emily Prentiss, you leave. You get scared and you leave. And you break everyone around you. You break us to the point where, one day, we won't even be able to trust you anymore. You break us until there is nothing we can do about those nightmares at night, the anxiety every time our phone rings, the suspense of not knowing where the Hell you disappeared off to this time and would you ever come back. Because you take your time to heal and that is fine, but in the process, you break us more and more, with each day. You make us weak, you make us doubt ourselves and, most importantly – you make us hate you, Emily Prentiss!"

Whenever JJ called her by her full name, it meant trouble. And in this emotional downpour, she kept doing just that.

"We hate you to the point where we hate everything about you, because deep down inside we are scared out of our minds. Scared, because we know that the moment we let ourselves love you, you will leave. And then you will break us even more. Again and again. And that's not cool, Emily Prentiss…that is so not cool!"

JJ took a moment to breathe, feeling like her face was on fire. If she were still standing in front of the mirror, she would see that her skin color was now matching her favorite flaming hot Cheetos packaging. She didn't want to admit this to herself, but she was having a panic attack, one stronger than anything she had ever felt before.

"And I'm done with you leaving. I'm done loving you and I am done waiting for you to love me back, if you don't want to love yourself first, Emily Prentiss! I am done being a puppet and I am done begging for your attention and your time. If you want to leave, just leave and never come back. Okay? Let us be, let us try to heal, without wondering when you will be back, just so that we can lose you one more time."

JJ's body heat evaporated from her and she was now shivering. She hugged herself with both hands and she rocked her body back and forth, as she was now curled into a ball, in the corner.

"And I just lied. Because I am a terrible human being and I want to hurt you, to show you how much a person could hurt someone. I want you to think that I don't care, to think that we will be fine without you. I want you to think that I hate you, Emily Prentiss. I want it so badly." She shook her head. "But I can't, I just can't do this to you. Because, no matter how much you broke me, I can never hate you. Do you hear me? I, Jennifer Jareau, am never going to hate you, Emily Prentiss. Ever. Not even for a moment in my whole damned life. Because, every time you hurt me, I know that you are hurting yourself, too. And I hate that, but I don't hate _you_. I could never hate you."

There it was, after a five-minute downpour, she was slowly getting to her point.

"I tried hating you. I tried so damn hard. And every time I tried, I ended up loving you this much more. Because, no matter your stupid decisions, you are still the one I look up to. You are someone who taught me how to live, how to love, how to grow, how to be myself. And I could never hate you, Emily Prentiss. Okay? I simply could not. Every time you broke me, you also helped build me up from scratch. You were by my side in the most important moments of my life. You are the one I have the best memories with. You keep me in check and you never let me suffer. You take the blame upon yourself and you suffer quietly, retreating yourself in your office and taking every hit, one after another, until it breaks you and I know how badly you are broken right now. I also know that you left, because you need to heal. I know that you will come back and be the most kind and wonderful human being to all of us. And I know that, deep down inside, what happened three weeks ago, is never going to let you sleep at night. You won't tell us anything about it. You will keep it to yourself. You will smile and laugh with us, go grab drinks, maybe dance a little. You will discuss stupid stuff, like the weather and porcelain dolls with us, but never, not even once, would you allow yourself to show weakness. Because you know that your weakness is going to break us. And you don't want that. You will keep on pretending like you are fine, so that your own broken soul would not traumatize us. And that, Emily Prentiss, makes you a human being, worthy of love. And I do, I love you, with all my heart and soul. I love you, Emily Prentiss. And I egoistically refuse to think of a life without you in it. So, next time you run, I am going to find you and I am going to drop my life here and follow you to the other side of the world and I am going to stay by your side 24/7, because this is what you do – you make us love you, more and more, with everything you do, until it is practically impossible for us to live without you. This is what you, Emily Prentiss deserve – love. Pure and unconditional, never ending love. And I do love you, so fucking much. You are my best friend, Emily Prentiss. And I am always going to need you in my life. Never forget that!"

JJ looked at her phone and she had been recording for nine minutes. She intended to ramble a little more, just because she was feeling so confused that she had no idea how to actually express herself, so she rambled on and hoped that her message would come across somewhat clear in the end.

However, Will's voice startled her. She heard him banging on the bathroom door and asking if she was alright.

That made her end the audio and send it as it was – long, messy, heartfelt and so incredibly twisted.

She then reflected on something. She had to pick herself up from the floor now and, usually, it would be Emily who would by her side in moments of total freak out. And she was not there.

"I'm okay. I broke the soap dispenser and I'm cleaning the mess on the floor. Sorry. I'll be right there." JJ said weakly, trying hard to suppress the hiccups and the sadness in her voice.

She took the soaking wet shirt off, glad that she had a tank top underneath. Then she splashed her face with icy cold water and she gave herself a couple of minutes, to steady that pure heart of hers.

As she walked out, Will enveloped her in a hug, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead, just like she always liked it.

"Hey, you know I love you, right? And I'm here for you, if you need to talk." He said, reminding JJ why she had fallen in love with him, in the first place.

Will understood her. He never judged her. He knew exactly how to handle her, at any given time. He loved a pissed off JJ, a sad JJ, a happy JJ, a melancholic JJ. He loved JJ, everything that she stood for. And so did Emily, in a different way.

"Yes. Thank you." She said weakly and he took her to the one place that could cheer her up – the play room.

Dave and Krystal had put up a play room, full of toys, for when Dave's grandson would visit. Henry and Michael were more than happy to roam that room and play freely. Matt's kids usually spent hours there, too, whenever their parents took them to the Rossi mansion.

JJ smiled as she walked in. Both of her sons ran to her side and hugged her. They hadn't seen her for about fifteen minutes, but they were so genuinely happy to be around their mommy again and it warmed her heart. It reminded her that, if someone really loved you, they would stick by your side. And now all she had to do was wait to see if Emily Prentiss really loved her, too.

"Food's served!" Dave called out from the back yard and everyone gathered around the huge table.

It was really nice outside. It was late and dark by then, but Krystal had installed new lights in the garden, so everything was illuminated and it looked like they were celebrating someone's birthday. The kids grabbed a burger and walked off to play somewhere, while the grown-ups started chatting about stuff.

Literally everyone was aware of the fact that JJ had just bawled her eyes out, crying. Nobody said a thing. Will was firmly by her side, his right hand glued to her shoulder, as a sign of support, while he struggled all through the evening, eating all of his food with the left hand only.

"Luke, what is Lisa up to these days? I haven't seen her around." Dave asked, since he had invited her as well.

"She's busy." Luke shrugged, taking a huge bite off his burger, so he wouldn't be asked another question.

Thank God Krystal changed the topic to something else right after that.

When they were done with the dinner, little groups were formed and different conversations started.

Krystal, Tara and Garcia were sitting on the garden swing, talking about flowers, lights and decorations.

JJ and Dave were in their own little corner, mute as fish.

Will was kicking ball with the kids, who only needed five more minutes of play time before they would fall asleep.

Spencer was reading a book, sitting on a chair, under one of the new garden lights.

"Hey man." Matt approached Luke, who had been keeping to himself for the past ten minutes after they had finished eating.

"Hey." He replied shortly, which was not typical of him.

The two guys had a special bond. They were on their way of becoming the male version of Emily and JJ – always calling each other for advice, always counting on each other, both in their job and in their personal lives.

"What's going on with you?" Matt pushed it, knowing very well that Luke was not being himself lately.

"Not much." He said, once again, shortly.

"Come on, man. You haven't told a dirty joke in days. You don't even smile anymore. What's bothering you?" Matt sat right in front of Luke. "Trouble in Paradise?" He added with a smirk.

"What Paradise?" Luke sighed. "It surely hasn't felt like it in a while."

"Oh…" Matt had assumed that Luke and Lisa had a little argument, but from how Luke was reacting, it sounded like something bigger than that.

"Forget it. Shit happens. No need to sulk about it." Luke was a macho man, a manly dude. He would never be caught discussing his feelings.

"How long has this been going on?" Matt was not going to drop it.

"Two months." Luke took a big gulp of his wine glass, hoping that alcohol would make it easier, seeing as Matt was hellbound on discussing Luke's personal life.

"Two months!?" Matt couldn't keep his voice down, repeating what Luke had just said.

Tara and Garcia shot him a glance. Matt was usually quiet and composed, so there must be a reason why he was being loud now.

"Yeah, it's whatever." Luke motioned to take another sip of his wine, but Matt grabbed the glass out of his hands and put it on the ground.

"Getting hammered won't help." He said calmly. "Why didn't you say something? I mean, at the very least, we wouldn't have asked you about her so many times? God, it must have sucked, every time we brought her up in a conversation!"

"It's no big deal. I didn't want to bother anyone with this crap." Luke shrugged, making the smart choice to grab a bottle of water instead.

"Dude, we're friends. We share stuff like that. Nobody would be bothered." Matt had this aura of a good guy around him. Whenever he spoke, he was always genuine and sweet. It was easy for anyone to trust him.

"Are you kidding me? Have you not noticed the Hell that Prentiss went through? I'm not going to bother her, or anyone else, with the fact that I am dating an idiot." Luke said, a bit riled up.

"She's had it rough, but you could have spoken to the rest of us, in private." Matt was right. Luke was just too proud to admit things, so he had made the decision to never talk about Lisa again.

"Whatever, man. It is what it is. Can I have my wine back?" Luke was a bit irritated at this point and Matt decided to drop it.

"No. Water will do you good." He stood up and let Luke drink his water, as he carried the wine glass out of his sight.

"Guys, it was nice seeing you, but we have to head back home. I have two sleeping monsters to take care of." JJ announced, pointing at her kids, who were now sound asleep on the garden sofas.

"Three." Will pointed at himself. He was beyond tired and witnessing his wife having a panic attack earlier had definitely helped drain all of his energy.

"It's okay, I'll drive both Garcia and Reid back." Tara announced, letting JJ leave earlier.

Once she was out of sight, there was silence. There was a huge elephant in the room.

"Fine, I'll say it." Garcia sacrificed her sanity, breaking the silence. "I'm worried about her, too, right now."

"Oh, thank God I didn't have to say it first." Dave nodded in agreement to that statement.

"First Emily, now JJ. Who is going to spiral out of control next? Because, trust me, someone would. It's human nature." Reid commented.

Luke sighed. In his opinion, he'd surely be the next one to have a massive freak out.

"My money is on Rossi." Tara said, earning herself a nasty glare from Rossi himself.

"I'd say Garcia. It's a miracle she's been completely cut off by Prentiss and she's still fine with it. It's been 24 hours now." Reid smirked.

"Not completely…" Garcia admitted shyly and then proceeded to tell them about the chat with their Boss.

She did not mention Paris, since she figured it was private, so maybe Emily wouldn't like to announce where she was. But she did tell them about the Monday meeting that she had requested.

"If she dares to quit the BAU, I'm going to-…" Dave got upset.

There was always this moment of panic when a superior called in an emergency meeting. Usually, that was when someone would quit the team.

"Oh, get in line. JJ and I are going to start with Prentis, you can finish her off. Be our guest." Garcia laughed.

Literally everyone had the same reaction to the news about the meeting. It was about to be one Hell of a week for the BAU team members.


	22. The FBI Wants Me To Join It

** CHAPTER 22**

_**THE FBI WANTS ME TO JOIN IT**_

Angie and Bryan spent the last hours of Monday evening, in the shooting range - the _actual_ shooting range, where _actual_ FBI Agents shot _actual_ guns. Earlier that evening, at training, they had dealt with mock guns, a mock scenario and cardboard villains. Now, where Dan took them, there were real guns, real Agents all around, training and perfecting their shooting skills. Angie tried so hard to tone her enthusiasm down, but she failed miserably. She was practically floating on a cloud of happiness. Guns were Bryan's thing, obviously, but Angela had a weird connection with weapons. She just seemed ecstatic to be around them and whenever she would hold one up, she held it with the precision and tenderness that she would hold a newborn baby with. That was how she felt about weapons. She was borderline obsessed.

Dan appreciated the fact that those two trainees wanted to do more in class, rather than sit around and wait, so it really didn't cost him much to grab them and bring them to the shooting range. He started off with the usual safety speech, before he let them choose a gun to try out.

Bryan grabbed a sniper. He felt comfortable with big weapons, he had the muscles to carry the weight of a weapon and to hold it in place and not feel too much of the bounce back when he'd fire.

Angie grabbed the typical handgun, used by FBI Agents. She wanted to feel it in her hands and she took her time to enjoy that moment.

"Good grip." Dan commented, standing behind Angie.

"You should have seen her hold the gun against her stomach earlier." Bryan laughed.

"No, that's actually a damn good grip right now." Dan's eyebrow rose a bit.

He had seen Trainees who were gifted, when it came to handling weapons, but Angie seemed like she was born with a gun in her hand.

"Now, you charge it, you pull the safety and you-…" Dan started to narrate and Angie sighed.

When would people stop treating her like an idiot?

She ignored Dan completely, adjusting her noise-cancelling head piece to her ears, picking up the gun that she had already loaded when Dan was busy talking to Bryan about the sniper…and she took a shot, without much thinking and hassling. It was a clean shot, a quick one, very much uncalculated and so damn spontaneous.

"Oh…" Dan exclaimed when he pushed a button and the target moved closer to them, revealing a perfect 9-point shot.

"Yeah, I know. I'm only just warming up." Angie rolled her eyes in disappointment. Nine was not a ten, hence nine was not good enough.

She fired one more time, once again, without giving it much thought and preparation.

"Hot damn, girl!" Bryan's jaw dropped. "How did you do that?"

It was a perfect ten, right in the middle of the target.

"Beginner's luck." Angie smirked, putting the gun down contently.

Dan was confused.

At first, when he had seen everyone report to the gym on day one, he saw a girl who looked way too young to even be there, wearing a white sparkly dress and a bow in her hair. Her nails were painted pale pink and they matched her lipstick color. She looked like her GPS had gone mad and she had randomly just popped by, without a clue where she had ended up at.

Then, Dan started seeing her passion for the Academy. Every time he saw the kid, she was in the middle of the first row, in class, or on the training field. She finished first in the race and she helped drag Bryan through the finish line, along with her, sharing the victory.

After that, she swiped her AT badge at all possible places around campus - which Dan knew about because he had access to this kind of information; until she was able to get access to things, people and places. And then she would pour millions of questions, to whoever she saw. She had made friends in the library, taking more books than her course expected her to read.

Dan also knew a few more things about Angie, but he would play dumb, for the time being, and only ever bring them up when the time was right.

And there she was now – shooting a perfect ten from the second time she fired a gun, making it seem like she just got lucky.

"Why do you want to join the FBI, Trainee Hunter?" Dan asked casually.

"Because I belong here." She replied, sure of herself. "Plus, I don't want to join the FBI." She smirked. "The FBI wants me to join it!"

Dan nodded and excused himself for a while, letting them practice on their own.

He walked to the office of his superior and sat down.

"Have you chosen one yet, Dan?" His boss asked.

"No." Dan smirked. "I've chosen _two_." He added contently. "And they're perfect."

"Good. Now proceed as planned. And remember - no mercy!" The other man said, before dismissing Dan.

As he walked out of the office, he sighed. Things were about to get a bit complicated, now that _two_ people were on the list.

* * *

Richard kept on driving as he chatted away with Emily. Or rather – Lauren.

"Vallée de la Loire!" Emily exclaimed, having read one of the road signs, when she saw him exit the highway, to take the road he needed.

"Oui." He nodded.

"Don't tell me were going to Château de la Barre! Oh, mon Dieu, vraiment? I mean, really?" She almost freaked out, in a good way.

By now, she had picked up on his habit of speaking half-English and half-French, so she had subconsciously started doing the same, throwing in a few words when she spoke.

"Oui." He nodded one more time.

"Oh, I've always wanted to go there!" She was radiant, smiling, full of enthusiasm. If JJ could see her at that moment, she would hate her a little more and also love her a whole lot more, at the same time.

"And now you are." He smiled and they soon reached the gates of the premises.

When they drove to the main building, Emily was in awe. She had seen luxury, but this specific palace was something she had always wanted to visit. Ever since her days as a spy in Europe, she had this strong desire to see the beauty that was now standing in front of her.

"Wow, this is gorgeous." She exclaimed, getting out of the car.

It was starting to get dark now and she could not believe that it was still just Monday. It felt like a whole month had gone by, with everything she managed to do and see since her plane landed in Paris.

They were greeted by the hosts and introduced to a few secluded parts of the palace. It was open for viewing, however, not everyone could get in. You surely needed to _be_ someone or to _know_ someone, if you wanted to get buzzed in from the gate. And Richard didn't seem to have any problem with his access to lavish things. Not that Emily cared if he was rich, anyway.

The hosts let them wander around the gardens a bit and Emily's eyes got drawn by the fountain. It was quite big, surrounded by lights and, as Richard had promised, there were loudspeakers everywhere, even outside.

"Oh, I love this song!" She said dreamily, as a very old French chanson came up.

"You seem to know a lot about France and French culture. And you also speak French fluently. How come?" Richard sat by her side, on a bench that had the best view of the fountain.

"French culture is something I've always been passionate about. Italian one, a bit less, I shall say." She tried not to roll her eyes, as she was referring to her time as a spy, in Italy, with an internationally known criminal who had managed to ruin her life twice – once in Italy and once back home when he went after her team.

"I have a confession…" Richard blurted out quickly, as if there was something that was bothering him and he had to say it to get it off his chest.

"Shh." Emily put a finger against Richard's lips, without even hearing the words he said. She only heard mumbles that were preventing her from enjoying her favorite song. "Oh, this feels so good."

Richard looked away unhappily, as if something was bothering him and it was not _her_.

By the end of the song, his phone started buzzing and he excused himself, walking a bit further, so he could speak without disturbing her.

"Oui." He replied to whoever was on the other side of the line. "Yes, that's done." He added. "I know. I took care of that, too."

He paced a little nervously, but Emily was oblivious. She refused to pay attention to the reality. This was her escape and she would soak in every moment of happiness, while it lasted, whether it was real or pretense.

"No, this is too risky. Are you crazy?" Richard tried to keep his voice down, but he was getting a bit upset with his conversation partner. "No, I'm not going to do that. And I won't let you do that, either. We are going to proceed as planned. If you want to be my partner, then damn it, you have to trust me!"

With those words, he hung up and switched his phone off before joining Emily back on that bench.

"Work?" She assumed, because only a work call could put a frown on someone's face when they were surrounded by such beauty.

"Unfortunately." He held his hand out for her and urged her to stand up.

"May I have this dance?" He added, just as a slow song came up.

"Oui." She smiled and let him hold her as they swayed to the rhythm.

As a child, Emily had been forced to perfect ballroom dancing. She hated it, but she was quite good at it. Her mother had dragged her to numerous charity balls and functions, where Emily had to act prim and proper, before she turned teen and spiraled out of control for the first time in her life.

Her chin rested on his firm, manly shoulder, as they moved in perfect sync. She had an excuse to know how to waltz, but what about him?

"My ex-wife was a dancer, back in the days. She taught dance and she was quite passionate about it. So, if I didn't want to sleep on the couch, I had to comply with her every wish to drag me to the dance studio." He forced a smile.

This was the second time he had mentioned his ex-wife, followed by him being overwhelmed by sudden sadness.

Emily knew better than to ask what had happened to that woman, or better yet – what she had done to him after they separated.

She just leaned in and let him take the lead. The song finished and she tilted her face sideways, so she could face him.

"God, you are _so_ beautiful." He whispered, a tone above a whisper.

"Yeah, and this time the make-up is actually mine." She chuckled, in typical Emily Prentiss dorky fashion.

He did not get it. He had no idea that she had done her make-up in a store earlier and that now she had bought herself a few items. He knew nothing about girly stuff like that. All he knew was that this woman was making him feel things he had never felt before in his life and that was slowly driving him insane.

"Lauren, I-…" He said after a moment of thoughts.

She did not let him speak. Her lips pressed against his and he was more than happy to shut up and let _her_ take the lead now.

His hands traveled down her frame and rested at the small of her back, almost teasingly.

She could feel his grip on her was tightening, as if he wanted to protect her.

For a moment, she let herself be happy. A second later, however, she realized that all of this had an expiry date and, if she allowed herself to enjoy these moments, it would make it this much harder to go back to her real life and adjust to being SSA Emily Prentiss again, the one who had to deal with the consequences of her decisions from three weeks ago.

"I'm sorry…" She pulled away, against her own will.

"There is something you need to know about me…" She started off, but he was clever, he already knew it.

"That you are going to leave?" He suggested and she nodded.

She had already shared that with him, but somehow, he held some sort of hope that she was not going to disappear. And there she was, confirming it.

"Doesn't it suck?" He asked silently.

"Huh?" Emily looked at him, confused.

"I mean, it must suck, always having to hit the Reset button on yourself. If you really leave as often as you claim to, then isn't it hard to re-adjust and to re-build a whole new life for yourself so often? I don't mean to judge you, I'm just curious what your point of view is." His voice was _so_ calm that she didn't even take his words as judgmental.

In any other case, though, Emily would have bit the head off someone who dared lecture her about her life choices.

"I guess it sucks. But the more you do it, the better you become at it. Until that is all you ever know in life – hitting the Reset button." Sadness oozed from her voice and he could feel it.

"But, wouldn't you rather settle down, find someone to love, surround yourself with loyal friends and let yourself be happy? Maybe even start a family? Everyone has crappy moments, but that is why we have friends. You just have to find the right ones and I'm sure you are never going to leave them." He smiled and she barely saw his face in the dark, but she knew he was smiling.

She reflected on his words for a moment.

"I already have those friends. I have wonderful people back home, ready to help me, people who worry about me and who, I'm sure, miss me so much right now." Her left hand slid down her dress, pushing it a bit lower, seeing as it had ridden a bit too far up during the dance. It was dark, but still, flashing someone was not appropriate protocol for date one. Or rather – date four, on day one.

"Well, you're here right now. So that means you left them." His words hit her like a sword – right in the heart. Bam!

"And, if they care about you as much as you claim they do, don't you think they are hurt by the fact that you left?" He pushed it a bit further and then twisted the sword a little more, so that Emily could bleed out in her imagination.

She did not reply. Instead, images of a worried Garcia, pacing around with a mug with now icy cold tea in her hand, ran through her mind. She was the one who worried the most, and who was the most obvious about it.

Reid, on the other hand, tended to close off and shut everyone out, when he was upset.

JJ was somewhat like Reid, but sadness usually took over her twice as hard, since she had a family to take care of, a job that was insanely hard and then a friend like Emily, who'd always bail.

She licked her bottom lip before biting on a chunk of it, realizing that she was probably a horrible human being. A selfish bitch.

Richard kissed her cheek, trying to calm her down, when he felt like she was quivering in his hands.

"For the record, I really like you, Lauren. I think you are the most amazing woman I've ever met. You are so smart and beautiful and you are not afraid to say the most random things. You are nothing like anyone I've ever met in my life. And if you had to leave, I'd understand it, but it would suck nonetheless." He said openly.

Those words left her torn. She now felt this crazy urge to go back home and try to be a good friend to her team, but she also didn't want to break Richard's heart by making him like her and then leaving him without a notice. Because she knew herself and, if she decided to leave, she would not even write him a note. She would just disappear. Forever. Like she had done a million times before.

The sound of a church bell brought her back to reality. It was now midnight, meaning that Monday was finally over and done with. It also meant that they had a two hour drive back to the city and she felt quite tired.

"If you don't mind, I've asked for the possibility of renting a suite for the night. There are two separate rooms, in case you want your privacy." He said nicely, not coming off as a creep who had taken her hostage in a random hotel room.

_Random_. There was nothing random about that place. It was gorgeous and, as much as Emily disliked the idea of spending the night with him so soon and giving off the wrong impression about herself, she caved in. There were, after all, two rooms available.

She nodded in agreement and they walked in the building, being shown to a lavish suite with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, three terraces and a huge living room. Everything was vintage and Emily appreciated the decor, wishing she had her phone with her so she could take pictures.

She walked further in and checked out the master bedroom. It was huge, the bed was gigantic and the windows were floor-to-ceiling. Usually, Emily would like her room dark, but this was a nice change.

She sensed that Richard felt a bit awkward and was waiting for her to come up with the sleeping arrangements.

"Look, I don't want this to come off wrong. I mean, I like you. Clearly…" She giggled. When has she ever met a guy and spent almost every moment with him, from the first second she saw him?

"But, you see, I'm not the kind of woman who would sleep with someone so soon." She added, hoping that it would sound believable.

_"__Or at least I'm trying not to be..."_ She thought to herself while looking anywhere and everywhere, but his face.

"I didn't peg you for one." He said, absolutely calmly. "That is why I booked this suite. We can both have our own room and bathroom."

Could he be any more sweet and understanding? Emily almost didn't believe he was real.

"In that case, I'd love the master bedroom." She smirked. If he was so chill about it, then she'd take advantage of the situation.

Once she walked in the other bedroom though, she regretted it.

"Wow, you have a built in Jacuzzi?" She exclaimed, seeing the marble structure between his bed and the terrace, overlooking the gardens.

"Want to swap?" He suggested.

"Nope." She wanted that huge bed, all for herself. "But, damn, you have a Jacuzzi!" She repeated, clearly a bit jealous.

"You can come over for a swim." He said innocently, but she knew what game he was playing.

"I don't even have clothes for tomorrow. Again. And that is _after_ I've done some shopping. What makes you think I have a bathing suit just ready to go?" She laughed at the irony of it all. She had spent quite some cash on clothes and things earlier, and yet found herself having to re-use the same clothes again.

"Well, you're not naked under that dress…Are you?" He took a step forward, his right hand brushing against her thigh playfully.

"Uhm…" She mocked being shy. "I guess there's only one way to find out."

Damn, this woman was giving mixed signals and he was not sure if she was joking or not.

It was only after she tugged on her dress, that he realized that she was most definitely _not_ joking.

Within seconds, she was stripped down to her underwear, the new one she had bought. She hated having to put it on without washing it first, but it beat having to use the undies from the previous day.

Somehow, the new things she bought were a little unlike Emily Prentiss. They were very much like Lauren Reynolds – bold, mysterious, some lace lining was involved and there were straps on the sides of her bikini bottoms, softly hugging her toned body.

Richard was mute. The only sign of life he gave off was when he gulped, as he eyed Emily up and down. He had never imagined her being so incredibly toned and in such great physical shape. If he didn't know any better, he'd assume that she was a personal trainer in some gym, because there was no other way that anyone her age had a body like that.

She started the hot tub and it quickly made bubbles. Steam came out of the water and she hopped in, smiling at him. He took that as an invite for him to join her and it took him eight seconds to do so.

"God, that feels good." She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

He tried not to move a muscle, because if he did, he was sure it would be to have his hands all over her. And that barely was gentleman code of conduct, especially after she had made it clear where her boundaries stood.

"Do you like red wine?" He asked, spotting a bottle of fine red wine on the table by the Jacuzzi, with two glasses near it.

"I usually prefer white, but red is fine, too." She replied honestly.

He then poured two glasses, hoping that would make him relax around her. She was too much for him to handle and the fact that she was half naked, right in front of him, was quite disturbing.

Emily took a sip and she knew this was good wine, one of those expensive ones that Rossi offered during his dinners. Oh, how much she missed him.

"What are you thinking about?" Richard asked casually, while sipping on his wine.

"Honestly, I remembered how much I appreciate one of my close friends. He's also a colleague of mine and he is amazing, both at work and as a friend." She took a big gulp of her wine before she continued. "He's older than me and he is the wisest man I've ever known. He taught me so much and yet, he is so humble and he never takes credit for anything. And also, he always smiles. No matter what is going on, there is always a smile on his face. He knows how to make me smile, too. His sense of humor is something that only a fine bunch of us, lucky people, can understand and appreciate. But we do and he is awesome for that. I guess I just really miss seeing him by my side."

"He sounds like a wonderful man." Richard commented.

"He truly is." Emily smiled and drank one more time.

The conversation then took turn and Richard was telling her how he was born in Paris, but he also lived abroad for a while and then came back to Paris, for work. He never mentioned what his job was, but given the fact that Emily failed to mention it too, she guessed it wouldn't be fair of her to ask for anything more than what he was willing to share.

Half an hour later, she started to feel a little weird. The wine had messed her up, but she had only had one glass and she wasn't known to not be able to hold her alcohol. Quite the contrary, actually.

She started seeing everything blurry and she found it hard to breathe, in the middle of the boiling water.

"Hey, come on, let's get you out of here." Richard got up and helped her sit down on a chair after he wrapped her with two big towels.

"Are you feeling sick?" He asked, but Emily could barely hear him.

Something was blocking all of her senses. First, her vision became blurry. Then, her nose stopped sensing the sweet aroma of vanilla that was what made the bubbles in the Jacuzzi. Finally, her legs gave out as Richard picked her up and put her on the chair. Her muscles got really tense, before she lost any control over them. It felt like she was floating, unable to feel her body weight.

She shook her head, trying to calm down, but anxiety was starting to hit her.

"Should I call a doctor?" He asked.

"No. No. It's just the wine. I told you I barely drink red wine. I guess it messed me up a bit. Don't worry. I'll be fine in the morning." She forced a smile while trying to look like she was calm and collected on the outside.

"Are you sure? We can get a doctor here to help you." He offered once again.

If she had to be honest with herself, she wouldn't mind a doctor's assistance. She had just been poisoned by Garcia and she had overheard something about consequences and side effects, so maybe that was what was messing her up. Both times she felt sick were after she drank alcohol – first, by the fountain, as soon as she landed in Paris, and now in the Jacuzzi.

However, it would be impossible to hide her identity if a doctor came over and asked for her ID card. And that would mean the end of happy Lauren and the beginning of a screwed-up Emily. There was no way she would allow that.

"I'm fine. I need a shower and some sleep. That's all." She didn't want to use the jet lag card again, so she pretended to be tired.

After a quick shower, she got in her bed and he stayed by her side until he thought she was asleep. She really was not, though. She just needed him to go back to his own room, so she could freak out a little bit before she would try to fall asleep.

She failed. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw one specific scene from three weeks ago, repeating itself, over and over again. And when she opened her eyes, she was once again on her own. But then she closed them and she was back in that nightmare, one that had actually happened to her.

"No!" She didn't even realize how loudly that came out, in the middle of the night.

"Lauren, are you okay?" A very sleepy Richard poked his head from the door.

"No…" She whispered. "I'm not okay."

He didn't hesitate. He walked to her bed and his hand ran through her now sweaty hair, caressing her while he wondered what kind of a nightmare was haunting that woman.

She pulled the blankets aside, making space for him to come lay beside her. He was happy to oblige.

Then Emily did one more thing that was unlikely for her persona – she snuggled closer to him, letting him hold her while her mouth and nose rested on the side of his neck, a little above his shoulder where her chin was now resting.

"I wish this was my reality." She whispered quietly. "But it's not."

He didn't reply, he was unable to make any promises. Much like Emily, Richard was living in the moment, trying not to think more than five days ahead, since they only had five more days left until she would leave. If she didn't leave earlier. Anything was possible with her.

* * *

Angie's alarm went off at 6 am on Tuesday morning. She yawned and rubbed her eyes a few times and then she was fresh as a daisy and ready to go.

"For the record, it feels really good to not have someone complaining about the alarm every morning." She commented as she hopped out of bed. Amanda had always told Angie off for the alarm, even though they both had to wake up at the same time.

"Who the heck wakes up with Salt'n'Pepa?" Bryan rubbed his eyes as well, a little less eager to get out of bed. And also, curious about her choice of a wake-up song.

"Oh, I forgot you even crashed here." Angie laughed, hearing a male voice coming from Amanda's empty bed.

"Also, insult my taste in music again and I will make you look like a beginner at gun shoot training. You know I can!" She smirked, grabbing her trainee uniform and opening a little box, full of hair clips and bows to choose from.

"Alright. I love me some old school R'n'B anyway." He smirked, getting up before she would have the chance to pour a bucket of cold water on him.

"Do you freaking mind?" He nudged her, trying to get her away from the mirror, after she had been there for the past ten minutes.

"Are you serious? You're a dude! Go check yourself out in the reflection of a window or something. Ugh!" She said in annoyance.

To that, he replied with force. He picked her up, as if she were a feather, and he threw her on her bed, handing her a small mirror to continue doing her make-up with.

"I really miss Amanda." She said unhappily. The girls had never fought about the mirror, but that was probably because Amanda always woke up after Angie was done with the shower and mirror.

Half an hour later they were sweating on the field. It was kind of chilly that morning, but they were drenched. They had a new fitness trainer who was draining every last bit of their energy, making them do some new military fitness routine that was hard to remember as a sequence, and even harder to actually do without fainting from exhaustion.

"Ugh." Angie whined when she forgot one of the sequences. They were required to do them in a specific order, so now she had to start all over again, counting from one. And she had been all the way up to six, out of twenty. So, that kind of sucked.

"Come on, Trainee! This is not cheer camp! Give it your best shot!" The trainer yelled at her and she felt the urge to do two things. One – to shove his face in the dirt, for being so mean. And two – to ask him to do a cheer sequence perfectly, so he would maybe stop insulting that sport. Because yes, to Angie cheerleading was a sport.

"Keep it together, A!" Bryan yelled out for her. "Wait for me to finish this sequence and then start from the top, with me. Okay?"

She nodded and watched him suffer the remaining part of the sequence. When he had to start his eleventh one, she started her first, trying to keep up with his pace.

At some point, she was getting tired and started to slack in pace.

"Hey. Hey?" Bryan caught her attention. "Together, remember?"

She smiled, picking up her pace, as much as that hurt every muscle in her body. She was very used to training, but this was completely new to her.

The trainer had told them that if, at any point, they wanted to give up before completing the 20 rounds perfectly, they were free to do so by laying on the floor, with their hands above their heads.

With the side of her eye, she noticed quite a few trainees were already in that position. She was not going to be one of those.

The more people dropped to the floor in surrender, the more driven she was to finish her rounds.

"Eighteen." Bryan counted for her.

He had finished his 20, and he was now giving her the support she needed. Along with the six sequences she had done earlier, she was now doing more than him and she was clearly exhausted.

"Nineteen. Come on, A! You can do this. Come on, girl! Yes! Just like that. Do it with a smile! Show them how it's done. Come on, Angie!" He kept on encouraging her, mostly because he refused to sit and listen to her whine about failing the exercise, for the rest of the day…or the remaining weeks of the Academy.

"I…bloody…hate…this…crappy…exercise…and…ouch…it…hurts…ugh…damn…oh…ah!" She was panting, but that wouldn't prevent her from trying to be smart about it.

"Twenty! Yes, Hunter. YES!" Bryan cheered, clapping his hands.

"Yo, you're not at the stadium. What's with the yelling?" Another trainee tried to get him to calm down and stop yelling, but Bryan was not a push over.

"Shut up." He simply replied before he continued to cheer for Angie.

The trainer was looking at Angie with confusion. She seemed so tiny. Yes, she was tall, but her frame was slim and she looked cute. The girl came to training with a purple bow and mascara. He never expected her to even finish half the rounds, not to mention finishing six before having to start over and doing twenty more. And she did, indeed, finish it with a smile. No matter the pain, Angela would always put a smile on her face.

"That was grea-…" The trainer started to talk to her before he saw a sign that Dan was giving him from the sidelines.

"That was pretty bad. Chicken legs don't cut it here in the Academy. You looked like a frog, suffering while jumping around in the draught. You have no strength in your arms, you have no discipline and if only you knew how to squat, as well as you know how to run your mouth and complain, that would only work in your favor. What's your name?" The trainer yelled at her, expecting her to start crying, like a baby.

Angie kept her cool and nodded at him, taking in all of his harsh criticism.

"Trainee Angela Hunter, Sir." She introduced herself. "Thank you for your feedback. I will surely work on, uhm, everything." She found the strength to scrape herself off the floor and to walk away, because there was something else she needed to do. Urgently.

She stopped by a trash can, on the side of the running track. She sat on the floor, pushed her legs apart and put the trash can between them. As soon as her face neared the little container, she was sick, trying not to get her clothes dirty.

Bryan took a step towards where Angie had wandered off to, after he saw her throwing up, but the trainer told him to stay, so he had to oblige.

Angie walked back to the trainees, thinking this was the end of fitness training for the day, but she was wrong.

The man divided them into two large groups. One group got sent away for the day, while the other one had to stay.

"Two mile hurdle run. On your marks, get set…" The trainer pointed at a Start line near them and heard a whole bunch of them sigh out of desperation.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I wearing you out? Or are you simply at the wrong place?" He said harshly, looking at the whole bunch of trainees.

"Go!" He yelled, pushing his chronometer and smirking. He knew exactly how hard this was, but the point was not to have them finish everything with excellent scores, but to see which ones would give up and which ones would push even harder.

"SWAT seems like a walk in the park, compared to this." Bryan commented when they started running.

"So does cheerleading. Although, I'm sure both of those could not be any more different from each other." Angie laughed, jumping over her first hurdle and feeling what was left in her stomach, starting to rise again.

They kept a slow pace, letting the other trainees sprint ahead, only to find them a mile later, dropped to the floor, in surrender. Each time Angie had to jump over a trainee's body, on her way to the finish line, it gave her a boost of energy. It felt like one of those stupid video games where the main character would jump over things and get points and rewards. Thinking of it as a game was much more fun. She started making a sound each time she jumped over something and, at some point, she forgot about the sickness she was feeling and she seemed to actually be enjoying herself.

"Okay, Super Mario. You are officially the weirdest chick I know." Bryan commented when he kept on hearing her make those adventure game-like sounds.

"Thanks, bro!" She called out, making another sound as she jumped over another trainee who had just dropped to the ground.

"I am going to eat a whole cow once I'm done with this crap! Raw, even. I'll have it with sriracha and I'll love every second of it!" She stated, feeling a hunger she had never felt before.

"And to think that when we met I thought you were vegan…" Bryan laughed whole heartedly.

"Eww, don't insult me! I eat _everything_." She laughed. Angie didn't judge anyone, but she was a huge fan of eggs and milk, cheese and all sorts of animal-based products. She did not like steak too much, but she loved burgers and chicken fillet, fish and chips dipped in cheese. Yum.

"I'm about to pass out, though." She added, feeling too tired to continue.

"Don't you freaking dare give up, Hunter, or I will destroy your bow collection! I will throw them one by one, in the fire, and let you watch them burn, while you're bound and gagged to the wall!" He threatened her. She was a weird girl, it took a weird threat in order to be able get to her.

"Oh, no!" She took a sharp breath and, if she wasn't sure she could finish this run for herself, she sure as Hell was sure she would do it for the bows!

An hour later, they were sitting on the ground, happy to have finished the race after all. They hadn't been quick, but they had not given up either. Only a bunch of Trainees had actually reached that Finish line and Angie and Bryan were two of them.

"Yo, Hunter, you look like you're about to vomit again!" Some dude joked with her and his words made other guys laugh out loud.

"Baby!" Someone called out, pointing at her.

"Yup, I'm a baby who vomits. But also, a baby who just finished her physical training assignment. Both of them, actually. So, I'm a cool baby, you see?" She smirked, turning their bullying into a joke and also insulting them passive-aggressively, since none of those guys had finished either of the assignments during class.


	23. Tell Me You Are Real

** CHAPTER 23**

_**TELL ME YOU ARE REAL**_

The Tuesday morning training was done and Angie felt a little off. When Bryan asked if she was fine, she replied with a cocktail of the usual - a lie and a smile.

Next up on their daily agenda was a four-hour DNA analysis class. Angie had been waiting for that one, so impatiently.

She found the strength to go back to her dorm and grab a bag that she had been storing in the safety deposit box, where trainees' valuables would usually go. Well, she had none. None of the typical type - cash, jewelry, new car keys. Nothing materialistic was dear to her heart, so she used the box for better purposes. Although, after Bryan threatened the bows, she was half-considering moving them to the storage space.

"Welcome to your DNA analysis class. Here you will learn how to collect DNA, store and preserve it, transport it to the laboratory, and also, how to analyze it, using different techniques and machinery. May I remind you that everything here is expensive and potentially dangerous, so please use caution while utilizing the things that are at your disposal. Now, some of you might come from molecular biology majors and this is going to be a walk in the park for you, guys. For the rest of you...well, good luck surviving the final test." Their new teacher briefly summarized everything.

Angie eyed him up and down. He was short, with not much hair and almost all of it was already white. He wore tiny round glasses that did not really compliment his facial structure and his ears were sticking out of his head, reminding her a little bit of Shrek. She smiled, coming to that conclusion.

His voice was a little feminine. There was a certain pitch in there, one that made it funny to listen to him at first, but then you get used to it.

The man started from the top - explaining what DNA was, where exactly it was found - red blood cells or white blood cells; what kind of information it contained about the individual and how DNA was used to figure out ancestry.

Angie did not take any notes. She busied herself by looking around the room and memorizing the faces of other people, ones who, much like her, were yawning and did not even touch the pen or tablet.

"What are you doing? Scanning for Mr. Perfect?" Bryan teased her.

"No, dummy!" She giggled and pointed out a couple of people to him. "Remember those ones. We'll need them later."

She didn't explain any further and he wasn't surprised. Everything about Angela was a huge question mark and he was just floating around it, trying to figure her out.

The class continued with a few examples of using DNA to confirm parental connections and then went on to explain the importance of DNA in forensic science.

The only thing Angie put down on her little notebook was A 02, the laboratory for that class.

Two hours later, everyone went there to continue their learning.

The teacher showed them the basics of DNA analysis and urged them to form small groups and try it out themselves.

"Where is your group?" The man asked as he saw Angie clutching on to Bryan, waiting by the first machine.

"Right here." She pointed at Bryan.

"Too small. At least three people." The man said grumpily.

Angie made a run to the other side of the laboratory, having spotted something she wanted. Or rather - someone.

"I need you on my team. Hi. I'm Angie." She said sweetly.

When she brought him back to where Bryan was waiting, he smirked, realizing this was one of the guys she had pointed out to him earlier, in the auditorium.

"I'm Robert." His voice was weak and it cracked twice, just while he presented himself.

He was a typical nerd. He looked like one. He walked like one. He also spoke timidly, just like a nerd. Angie was borderline obsessed with him already.

Bryan realized why Angie had pointed this guy out earlier. He was among the ones who never took any notes in class, hence he already knew all of that stuff, hence he was going to be a great asset to the team.

"Okay, Bobby, I'm Angie and this is Bryan and we are really happy to have you on our team." She said politely.

Angie knew a thing or two about nerds. She was pretty much one, herself. Although, she liked to think of herself as a cool nerd, a hot chick who randomly knew nerdy things. Kids at school, years ago, had tried to bully her, but she never caved in. Instead, she came up with a counter-attack - one that worked perfectly, with anyone and in any occasion. She was nice. Nauseatingly nice. She smiled and turned someone's harsh words into a compliment for herself. She never let people walk all over her and whenever she saw them do so with the next victim they eyed, she made sure she would interfere. She hated bullying, but she also learned to understand bullies. She knew what they thought, how they acted and why. And yet - she would not tolerate their crap, not even for a second.

The teacher them told them to provide a DNA sample from themselves and to analyze it. Angie had other plans.

"Is that-...?" Bryan didn't finish his question. He didn't have to.

She smirked as a reply, unpacking a sample that she had already collected, in the woods.

Some groups did DNA analysis from saliva and some did blood analysis and extraction of DNA from blood samples. Angie's group did the latter.

Robert turned out to be into molecular biology, so this was nothing new to him. In fact, during their tests he explained some things and he even gave examples of how this could be used in forensic science, or even as proof in court.

He had been curious to know where the samples came from. Clearly, this was not fresh blood and it was already on a swab, but Angie told him that she wanted to try out something different, so he stopped asking.

"Wait. Something is wrong." She pouted when they got their results later on.

The group that was on their left side had finished their tests five minutes earlier, so they had seen their results. And the ones they got were...well, different.

"Wasn't this blood?" Robert asked.

"Yes. I swabbed it myself. It was dried out, but we should still be able to extract DNA from it. I don't understand..." Angie said in confusion, looking at the results on the screen.

"We did extract DNA. Just not-..." Robert started explaining, but he got interrupted by the teacher.

"What are your names?" He asked while his eyes were glued to the screen, reading the results as well.

"Angela, Bryan and Robert, Sir." She replied.

"Oh..." Realization hit him. "Of course it's you." He murmured to himself before he walked away.

"I don't think people around here like us." Bryan started laughing.

"Shut up! I'm a lovable person with an amazing, bubbly personality. Everyone likes me!" She took offence and she could not understand why everyone was suddenly being kind of rude and stand offish with both of them.

"What are you gonna do, then? Bake them cookies?" Bryan kept on laughing and Angie slapped his shoulder so hard that the sound of it startled the people around them, as if a small explosion had taken place.

"Robert, what were you going to say about our results?" She asked curiously, still looking at the screen. Yes, these were DNA results, but it didn't look normal, it wasn't like what she had seen it in the books.

"The DNA is not from a-..." Robert got cut off as soon as he started explaining.

"Robert! Would you mind assisting here for a moment?" The teacher said and Robert walked away without saying another word.

"This is a conspiracy!" Angie folded her hands against her chest and frowned.

"You're being paranoid." Bryan shook his head.

The class was soon dismissed and everyone, but the two of them, left with answers. They left with even more questions than they had before. So, Bryan decided to shut her up by offering to buy food. She refused. Angela liked paying for herself and took offence if people continuously offered her things.

However, when she swiped her card to pay for her lunch, she found out it got bounced. Twice. And then she remembered something. Making a rough calculation in her head, she came to the obvious conclusion that she was left with no money.

Bryan was behind her and he swiped his card for both meals, without saying a thing. He could imagine how uncomfortable she felt and he didn't want to embarrass her any further.

As if she didn't have enough things to worry about, now she was facing a new obstacle. She needed to find money. Immediately.

* * *

At the very same moment, it was night time in France. Everything was dark, peaceful, quiet. But it wouldn't stay like that for much longer.

Emily kept tossing and turning in her bed. Even though it was comfortable, warm, soft, she just couldn't relax and enjoy it.

When she finally managed to close her eyes, she dozed off and it started, all over again.

"No..." She mumbled in her sleep.

"JJ, get the girl." She turned to lay on her stomach, but that only lasted a few seconds before she was curled into a ball once again.

"Rossi. Please!" She was sweating, so she tossed the blanket to the floor.

"I don't need back-up. We're fine here." She whispered, as if, even in her sleep, she knew that she was bluffing.

"Someone, please, get the girl!" There was a sudden sharp pain in her stomach.

"JJ?" She called out. "Rossi? Reid? Guys? Anyone? Guys!?" She was getting more and more worked up and there was no possible body position that she found comfortable enough for more than a couple of seconds. It looked like she was rolling in mud, like a pig.

"Garcia?" She said desperately.

"Guys, I can't hear you anymore. If you can hear me, please, get the girl. Please!" Her heart felt like a crumbled, useless piece of paper, tossed carelessly in the bin.

"No. No. No..." She kept on mumbling quietly.

"I need to get her. She needs to be safe." She concluded and that was when everything went wrong.

She kept on tossing and turning, her body oozing warmth that was unusual for a human being. Her hair was all wet, some of it stuck to her forehead and the rest - glued to the back of her neck.

"Don't worry. I got you." She smiled. Through all of this, her current reaction was to smile.

"Come on." She whispered. "She's fine. I promise you, she's okay."

With her hands, she grabbed the pillow, bringing it close to her chest and hugging it tightly.

"Let's get you out of here." Her mouth was pressed against the pillow, as if she was trying to whisper to it, to calm it down.

"She's okay." She said once more, before her body nearly rolled off the bed. Something had just startled her.

She started breathing heavily and, if it were possible, she would be having a panic attack, in her sleep.

"Oh my God! What!?" In the end, she yelled out loud.

Her hands clutched the pillow with all the force she had in her body.

Suddenly, one more thing shocked her.

"NO!" This time she was even louder and, as many times before, _this_ was the moment when she opened her eyes.

However, this time she was not alone. She was used to this nightmare, it had been haunting her for three weeks now. Every single time, it was the same scene, same words, same dumb decision and same terrifying outcome.

"Hey." Richard said calmly and she noticed how his hand was pressed against her shoulder. That spot felt a little warmer than the rest of her body. It was the only spot where her muscles didn't feel tense and rigid. It was the only spot that her body was enjoying. Had his hand been there for a while, maybe?

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, with the small night light on, waiting for her to wake up. Clearly, he knew how dangerous it would be to wake someone up while they were having an intense nightmare. Plus, Emily would have punched the crap out of him if he had done so. Instinctively, of course.

"It's okay." His hand moved up her shoulder a tiny little bit and the now uncovered spot felt cold. But another spot was feeling his warmth and she was okay with that compromise.

"It was just a nightmare. Calm down. Breathe." His voice was so deep. Soothing. She almost didn't catch that heavy French accent that he had. She almost didn't even realize she had only met him a couple of days ago. It felt like he had been in her life forever. He felt familiar. Very, _very_ familiar.

"Just a nightmare...ha!" She hissed sarcastically.

It was more than a nightmare. It was a constant reminder of one of the dumbest, most spontaneous, uncalled for, idiotic, unfounded, arguably legal, egoistic, foolish, senseless decisions of her life. That was what it was. A nightmare - yes. But one that she had actually lived through and one that she now had to live _with_.

"Do you need anything? Some water? Wine? Food?" He asked and, looking up, she could almost swear she saw an angel halo above his head. Was this still a dream?

"You." She said, a tone just above a whisper.

He had to think twice before he would reply. Did he hear her wrong?

"Will you, please, stay?" If he had failed to get it the first time, this was his ultimate confirmation.

Emily moved to the side of the bed, making space for him to join her. And he did so, bringing the blanket back to the bed after he found it on the floor.

His right hand went under her neck, offering her a pillow that would feel a little more stable than the one she had just kicked to the floor as well, when she had woken up.

She instinctively eliminated the void space between their bodies. She snuggled against his body and his left hand embraced her, now laying on top of her bare stomach. It felt so damn good.

Emily had never liked intimacy. She was a complex human being. She liked men. In different moments of her life, she liked men a little too much. Then she was indifferent. Then she liked them again. Then she would obsess with them and then she would be indifferent again. But, in neither scenario, would she ever allow someone to hold her, to touch her like that, to feel the pain that was oozing from her body. Hell, she wouldn't even let her teammates know when she was hurting, because human interaction, intimacy, affection, sentiments were terrifying to her. They were useless, stupid, uncalled for, only seen in fake romantic movies and she just did not like them.

But damn, this man was something else.

She pressed her nose against his shoulder. He smelled good. She could still feel the scent of his eau de cologne from the day before, even after the Jacuzzi and the shower he had taken after that. He smelled familiar and she was hoping she wouldn't be able to pinpoint the scent as a perfume that either one of her male colleagues had ever used before, because, God help her, that would be so awkward.

"Please, tell me this is real." She whispered, desperately holding back tears.

She had already given this man complete control over her body and emotions. She would be damned if she let him see her cry, too.

"Tell me _you_ are real." She specified.

Richard gulped. He did not reply. All he could do for her, at that moment, was to hold her.

* * *

It had already been one-too-many times that Bryan had offered her food and she was not okay with that. She was a girl who had always taken care of herself and she had never depended on anybody.

So, after lunch break, when everyone was headed off to get some rest, Angie was headed to finding a job that would get her the money she needed, in order to get food.

Usually, when they had some spare time, Angie and Bryan would go check the campus out. But this time, she told Bryan that she wasn't feeling well and that she needed to get some sleep before the afternoon class.

Angie then wandered around the official FBI building, going as far as her credentials would allow her to. At some point, she found herself in the middle of a common room, on the second floor, with a coffee machine and some snacks laid out on the table. All free. Perfect.

It had been a great decision to go there in plain clothes. Having a Trainee eat there for free would be frowned upon. Her Trainee card hung by the side of her jeans, backwards, so that nobody would be able to identify her.

Very casually, she greeted a few elder Agents, while pouring herself some coffee, as to not raise any suspicions. It tasted absolutely disgusting, but she would sweeten it up with the fact that it was free.

She grabbed three of the biggest cookies she found on the table and she walked off to find herself a table. With the corner of her eye, she spotted a board. That only meant one thing - announcements.

Still holding her coffee mug and treats, she walked over and started reading.

_Selling a mountain bike. Perfect conditions. My nephews underestimated my age when they gave me that present. - John K._

_In need of a referenced graffiti artist, to come paint my son's room in galaxy theme. Because my husband is just too bad at the job and I can't watch this! - Melissa S._

_Ballistics searching for someone to come clean guns when they have time. Pay? Hey, we're all under budget cuts! - Steven T._

_Can someone, PLEASE, tell the director how awful the coffee is? - Anonymous, but pretty much any Agent's name can go here._

_Library help needed. Reception duty, shelf organizing, checking the state of returned books, etc. Fun job. Great pay. Ha-ha. I'm desperate here! - Ask info Library reception_

"God, who knew FBI Agents had a sense of humor?" She whispered to herself.

Unluckily for her, she was surrounded by people who had spent their lives eavesdropping and checking out on suspicious people and activities around them. So, she had a few sets of eyes glued to her.

Yes, it was a common space, but what she did not know was that the few Agents that frequented it knew each other very well. And Angie's unfamiliar face, her tender age and that purple bow in her hair were a huge alarm for many of them.

"That's a secret we keep to ourselves and a bunch of selected outsiders." A man came up to her, startling her as he replied to those spoken thoughts of hers.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any disrespect. It's just that everyone thinks Agents are all work, no play." She shrugged innocently.

"None taken." Those words made the man laugh genuinely. "They are. Just, maybe not _all_ the time."

"It's nice to meet you, Sir. I'm Angela Hunter." She figured her name wouldn't ring a bell and connect her to the Academy in any sort of way.

The man suppressed a smirk.

"Nice to finally meet you, Trainee Hunter." He replied.

_Finally_? That alarmed Angie, but she chose not to ask.

"Oh, it's _that_ obvious that I'm a Trainee?" She blushed. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name, Sir."

"I didn't announce it." He said with authority and Angie already loved him. Any man who dared intimidate her, except for her driving instructor, was a man she respected.

Those were the same exact words she usually used when people were nosy enough to keep asking for her name.

"Call me Ben." He added after a very long pause, one during which Angela could not possibly feel any more ill at ease. Something about the way he looked at her was so intimidating.

"Okay, Ben. Which division are you in?" Typically for her, she wanted to start some small talk.

"General services." His response was a bit off.

He was dressed well, spoke politely, was clearly very intelligent and there was a gun in his holster. Was she supposed to believe he was responsible for the cleaning staff and internal logistics? No way.

"What exactly?" She asked, fishing for more info. Truth was bound to come out, she just had to keep him talking.

"I have to make sure people act the way they are expected to and I also supervise Agent evaluations on a regular basis. Or whenever they screw up and are under investigation." He explained shortly.

"Oh, so like, some sort of HR?" It hit her.

"Some sort." He finally smirked. "Now, what about you?"

"I'm in the Academy. Second week. And I love every moment of it..." She only came across half-genuine.

"Uh-oh!" He stated dramatically.

"No, it's just that...I mean, I guess it is my own fault that I came here very prepared. First week was hella boring. But, on the bright side, I didn't waste any paper by taking notes. Hey, saving the planet and all that!" She laughed.

It was impossible for him not to laugh as well. She just made him feel so comfortable.

Ben received an urgent phone call and he excused himself quickly.

Left alone, she felt bored. This place couldn't offer her anything more, so she moved on to the next errand she had on her list.

Ten minutes later, Angie walked in the ballistics division of the official FBI building and she smiled. Dan had already taken her and Bryan to the shooting range, but where they stored all the firearms was even more impressive.

"Hi. I'm here because of the job announcement." She said to the first person she saw around.

"Oh. That's not a real announcement. We fool around on that board. It's just for fun." The random guy replied.

She looked around and noticed quite a few guns, waiting to be cleaned and inspected.

"I don't think a helping hand would harm you, hey." She said cheekily.

The man sighed. She was right.

"Alright. I can start tomorrow at lunch time. How much are you going to pay me?" She auto-hired herself with a smirk.

"We can't pay you money." He replied and saw her sweet smile turn into a frown. That kid clearly needed money. "I can get you some restaurant tickets, though."

"Oh, I need the money for food anyway. So that's just perfect. See you tomorrow!" She announced and disappeared before the dude would change his mind.

Her next stop was the library.

"Hi. I know the announcement was a joke, but I need a job and I love books. Especially criminology ones! I accept payment in food tickets. Anything, really. So, when do you want me to start?" The first time she had been balsy enough to hire herself had worked, so she tried it out one more time.

"Hi. The announcement was for real, actually. We need someone to hang out here for a few hours per week. And yeah, we can get you tickets, no problem. I don't think we could pay you any cash, though." The receptionist said.

That's okay. I want the tickets." Angie smiled, being extremely grateful.

"Hey, you're the Trainee I gave those additional books to, the other day! I remember you." The receptionist's smile grew wider, now that she knew Angie was really into books and not just saying it so she could get paid.

"Yup, that's me. I started the book on how to interview psychopaths and I'm loving it. Thank you so much, it was very kind of you to suggest it to me. I'm Angie, by the way. It's really nice to meet you."

"I'm glad you like it. Let's just say that the topic is not everyone's cup of tea." The girl laughed. "I'm Barbara. You will be working with me. The girl who was here...let's just say she put the wrong book on the wrong shelf. Like, every single time."

Angela laughed. No wonder the girl didn't last long on the job.

"Ok then. I will see you every other day, at lunch time. Tomorrow I'm busy, so see you in two days." Angie waved goodbye and left.

She walked to her afternoon class with a huge content smile on her face.

"Hey, I lost you somewhere in the crowd after class. I was waiting at that healthy food place, figured that's where I can find you. I vaguely remembered you mentioning getting some sleep…" Bryan said as soon as he saw her take her usual seat.

"Oh, isn't it wonderful to not be able to use cell phones around here?" She giggled. "I didn't get lost. I just had something to do. Kind of a last moment decision. Sorry I didn't warn you."

For a second, she thought about his words. That healthy food bar was awesome for one reason only - the food was good for the body. Otherwise, Angie was a burger and fries kind of girl. Pizza, too. But she knew she had to take great care of herself during the Academy, so she could always be ready to train more effectively. Even if that meant eating green leaves like a horse and having carrots as garnish to every single damn thing, like a rabbit.

Well, luckily for her, she no longer could afford the cool chick food. Life was made of compromises, after all.

"From now on I won't be able to stay with you during lunch time." Her announcement took him off guard.

"That sucks! How come?"

"I got a job." She said casually. "Two, actually."

Bryan nodded, without saying a word. He was aware of her financial situation, but since she never came out and said it, he figured it would be extremely rude to discuss it. Angie seemed like someone who was able to take care of herself, so he was sure she would do just that.

Their afternoon class was on criminology and both Angie and Bryan enjoyed it. It was long and tiring, but very useful and informative.

After class some of the Trainees decided to go grab a beer on campus before heading back to the dorms for the night. Angie excused herself, one more time announcing that she needed to get more rest.

Walking back to her dorm, she frowned. Each time she opened the door, the first thing she saw was Amanda's bed. Empty. It looked…wrong. It felt wrong. And it hurt. So much.

Angie hadn't had too much time to get to know Amanda well, but that didn't mean she hadn't gotten to _like_ her. And even if she didn't like her, that did not mean she wished her ill or that she was relieved Amanda was now gone. On the contrary – it felt like Angie had lost someone. And, comparing her current situation, to old experiences, that only made her feel…weak.

She tried to calm herself down, taking a longer shower, a hot one, allowing the warmth of the water relax all of her body muscles. And she had almost succeeded. But her calm demeanor only lasted until she opened the bathroom door and caught a glimpse of that bed. Empty. Messy, like Amanda had left it, the morning of her unfortunate accident.

Angie gulped. At that moment, she felt nothing like the strong, confident young girl – the one she had introduced to everyone. The one she desperately needed everyone to believe she was. Fearless. Brave. Intelligent. Her own version of what the F.B.I. initials stood for.

There was a certain sadness in her eyes, the eyes that were now glued to that empty bed. Certain memories flooded her mind and a certain melancholy could be noted in her beautiful emerald eyes.

Her lower lip quivered. She was still standing at the bathroom door, as if she was scared to take a step forward, to where Amanda was no longer to be seen. She now felt a new mix of emotions. Emptiness. Fear. Cold. She felt alone. And she knew exactly how much that can screw her up, if she didn't snap out of it and start acting like the brave Angela Hunter – the girl she wanted everyone to see her as.

And yet, she simply could not shake it off.

She was so used to that feeling of sudden loss. Of emptiness. Of cold shivers, going through her body.

With her eyes closed, she took a few steps towards her own bed and put her pajama on before sprawling on top of the covers. She knew that even if she laid underneath them, they wouldn't be able to take that feeling of coldness away.

"Why do people always have to leave?" She whispered to herself, hugging her waist with both hands.

She didn't have anyone there, to hug her. To give her some warmth. To take her mind off of things. To comfort her.

She never did.

The thought of that made her lip quiver again. And again.

"No, I'm strong. Angela Hunter is strong!" She kept on whispering to herself, but it felt like she was talking about someone else.

She did not feel strong.

She felt alone.

And sad.

_So_ sad.

With one hand, she reached the nightstand where her little safety box was still sitting, from earlier when she had grabbed the blood samples for class.

In that box, she stored a few tiny objects. She grabbed one of them and kissed it lightly before pressing it against her chest, the left side of it, close to the heart.

"I want to be Angela Hunter, so badly…" She sighed.

Her mind then took her to a time in her life, when she had lost someone, the only one who had ever made her feel like herself, no matter the name and the location. They had made her smile. They had made her feel safe. They had helped transform her into a confident young girl – fearless, brave and intelligent. And then they had roughly taken it all away from her.

"Why did you have to leave…?" Her damn chin would not stop quivering.

"No! I've cried enough for you!" She commanded herself, seeing a picture of that person in her mind.

"I am Angela Hunter…" She started her usual pep talk, the one she had given herself so many times before, when things had gotten rough.

"I am strong…"

"I am smart…"

She sighed. Who was she kidding?

But then again – if she wasn't able to fool herself, how was she going to do that with everyone else, at the Academy?

"I smile and I make people smile…"

She knew exactly who she wanted to be.

"I respect people…"

"I take care of myself…"

She hugged herself tighter, trying to counter that feeling of her stomach being shrunk. She almost did not feel any air left inside of her and she started to sweat.

"No, no, no! I'm not going to cave in!" She said, as if she was speaking to the panic attack that was about to hit her.

"I am strong! I am confident! I am smart!"

Her breathing was shaky and by now she had a splitting headache.

"I am Angela Hunter…" She repeated to herself.

"And I am not going to let your bad decisions affect me any longer…" She had almost been convinced, up to the point when she pronounced those last words.

That's when her pep talk went south.

She felt self-conscious. She'd never show it to anyone. She knew how to act around people. She was the master of deceit.

But the one person she could never lie to was herself – the real girl behind those green eyes and that beautiful fake smile.

"Ugh, if they only knew…" She said, rolling her eyes.

If only Bryan knew that she was not confident _all_ the time. She was not _always_ right.

If only he knew that bullying actually got to her sometimes.

If only he knew how hard it was for her to be there and to mask up all the emotional baggage she had been carrying with her for years now.

If only he knew how human she was – imperfect, sometimes a little shy, goofy, broken.

But he would never know.

_They_ would never know.

Because Angela Hunter would make sure she'd never show a sign of weakness, to anyone. She'd never admit defeat. She'd walk around with her head held high and the more upset she was, the wider that smile on her face would grow. She'd want them all to think she was dumb, she'd put those colorful bows in her hair and she'd smile. Always.

She'd keep it all in, she'd fight her own monsters and she'd be nothing but a bubbly goof on the outside. A dork. A girl without a care in the world.

If only he knew…

If only they knew…

But she was strong. Confident. Smart.

She'd fool them, like she had done many times before.

She'd smile.

She'll be Angela Hunter.

Maybe one days she'll master the art of deceit well enough to be able to fool her biggest enemy – herself.


	24. My Irresistible Chocolate Temptation

**CHAPTER 24**

_**MY IRRESISTIBLE CHOCOLATE TEMPTATION**_

Angie woke up with a strong desire for a weekend. A weekend off, that is. But it was only the third day of the week and, even if it were Friday, that only meant that she had two more days of training and classes. They were occupied almost 24/7, without a chance to stop and relax. She knew what she had signed up for, but she had been feeling quite off for the past 24 hours.

The day started with fitness training, as usual. Then they had a class that explained how forensic science should relate its findings to the court – the right way of presenting evidence, official guidelines for FBI Agents and all sorts of boring legal stuff that needed to be memorized.

This time, Angie took a lot of notes. Most of what their teacher was saying was new to her. It felt good to start a new subject, one that she knew she would not excel in. That made her want to push herself to do well, to learn as much as she could…and ultimately to pass that final exam.

She wasn't a fan of the legal side of the job, but she was aware that she had to be precise and clear, using the right terminology and not crossing any lines in the future. God knows she had crossed some in the past.

At lunch time, she watched Bryan walk off with the other trainees, and she smirked contently when she saw them heading to the healthy bar. Apparently, he wasn't only doing it to please her, but he had learned the importance of eating healthy.

She walked over to the FBI building and she ended up at the ballistics division, for her first day on the job.

"Oh, hey. I didn't think you'd make it." The man she had spoken to before, greeted her.

"I never disregard a commitment. Unlike others." There was a specific person that she was mentally insulting at that moment. "Where do I start?"

He showed her a few guns that had been borderline destroyed during cases, and he asked her to carefully revise them and clean out the gun shot residue and the insides, in hopes of being able to continue using the weapons.

She did have to have at least a little bit of knowledge, in order to do this job, but he was pleasantly surprised when she started asking questions, using terms that an ordinary person would not even know. She was, after all, quite an extraordinary girl.

An hour went by and she had less than half an hour left before her afternoon class. The guy handed her two food coupons, valid at any of the food court restaurants, and granting her a full 3-course meal.

"Two?" She raised an eyebrow. She had expected just one.

"Yes. Lunch and dinner. I don't want you to starve. Plus, I'm only going to see you every other day, so…" He smiled at her and waved goodbye.

Two full meals, in return for touching amazing guns for an hour. To Angie that was awesome.

* * *

Garcia woke up on Wednesday morning, sweating. She was breathing heavily and something was bothering her. That was the same exact state that she had been in, for the past three weeks. No matter how many hot chamomile teas she drank, there was no calm sleep for her anymore. She had found herself desperate enough to be nibbling on valerian leaves a few days ago, for dinner, in hopes of getting some peace and calm. She got none. That had been the day when she had stalked Emily in the chat. And each day after that was getting worse until Garcia found herself unable to close her eyes without seeing one specific scene and hearing one specific announcement. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to do something. And only one thing was on her mind.

She hopped out of bed, her hair sticking out as if she had been electrocuted, her pajama nearly falling off her bum, her black nail polish halfway chopped off and her overall appearance being a whole lot of a mess. But it wasn't her outside that she needed to take care of. It was the inside, that huge and pure heart of hers and that beautiful rainbow-colored soul needed some fixing.

Before she could even grab her favorite mug, she opened her computer and found herself composing an e-mail that she wasn't sure she was even going to send.

Hey there, stud :)

I know this e-mail account is for urgent situations only, but this kind of falls under that category.

It's Emily...

She's spiraling. She disappeared. Yes. Again.

We don't know how to help her. She closed herself off and ran away, as she always does. But this time it's different. Last time I went to visit her in London and it was great fun, but now we don't even know where she is. Well, I mean, I do. Obviously. But nobody else does. And she's just a whole lot of a mess.

We had a case. I can't discuss it and I'm sorry for being so vague, but it went wrong. I don't know what, but something went horribly wrong. It was three weeks ago. Emily has not been herself ever since. She's been sleeping on the couch, in her office, working late every night. It's as if she wants to make-up for what happened. But we all know it wasn't her fault. She just doesn't want to listen. You know how she is - God, I love her with everything I have inside of me, but she is the most stubborn, self-hating person I know. And I wish we could help. I wish _I_ could help. And I tried. But she rejected me. And, as we all know, I am a very loveable person. I'm not used to rejection, so that hurt!

Ever since that case, we've sort of been on probation. All we do is paper work and boring stuff. We haven't been out on the field and I doubt it's happening any time soon. Not with this mandatory week off that the Higher Powers forced us on.

Reid has closed off, again.

JJ is blaming herself for not being able to get through to Emily.

Rossi just argued with his daughter, because she wants to go to Europe for a couple of weeks with her husband and kid, but he doesn't want to heart it. Letting women go is not his forte. Well, not anymore. Not when he keeps finding himself forced to let go of Emily, each time she runs.

I guess Emily leaving is affecting everyone. We try not to let it, because that's what we were taught in the Academy - to leave all personal drama behind. But it is hard when the person you love so deeply and care so much about is also your boss and they command you not to care about them.

You were always the only one who could break through the darkness and go straight to the soul of this woman, even when JJ and Rossi would fail to do so. It has always been you. And that was great, because we had you, we counted on you...we always knew you would make it right.

Honestly, the BAU has not been the same without you around. Yes, we had some fun times, but I have bawled my eyes out on too many occasions. And so have the others. A few nights ago, JJ had a complete breakdown at Rossi's. He had invited us for a barbeque and, when I mentioned Emily, JJ darted off to the bathroom. You should have seen Will - poor thing, he was pale as a canvass and he didn't know how to handle JJ. We all pretended like we didn't know. But we did. And it hurts. And this is all Emily's fault. But, somehow, we can't hate her for it. All we want is to have her back here and have her get better. It was hard enough to get over _you_ leaving. And we still haven't healed. We probably never will. Actually. We _definitely_ never will.

But now Emily...

Am I a bad person for having this recurring dream where we are told that the BAU is done with and I exhale with pleasure, because as much as that would suck, it would also mean no more hurt and no more pain? Am I bad? Please tell me I'm not bad! I'll go to church or whatever it is that you, people, do. I'll have an exorcism! I'll drink Holy water. I'd do anything to make this nightmare leave me alone. But I'm scared that one day, in real life, this is going to happen and I'm terrified that the real Garcia won't be able to handle the news as calmly as the Garcia in the nightmare did.

We miss you.

We are worried about Emily.

We are on a damned week off.

We are sad.

We are confused.

We hate everything about that.

Please, e-mail me back. Send me a photo of Mini Morgan. Tell your beautiful wife how lucky she is to have you by her side, because, trust me, you being by someone's side is a blessing from Heaven, my friend. We knew it before, but we are never going to forget it now.

Never going to forget _you_.

I miss you.

I love you, my irresistible chocolate temptation.

Garcia (a.k.a. BabyGirl, your soulmate in Heaven and Hell, in case you have forgotten me)

Instinctively, she hit the Send button. This was supposed to be a rough draft of her feelings, but she wasn't upset by the fact that it was now an official e-mail. Signed and delivered. Plus, if she had a problem with that, she could do some hacking and delete it within five seconds. Or less. She just didn't want to.

* * *

Second class for the day started with a very brief introduction, by a young guy.

"Hello, I am your instructor for the Tactical and Defensive Driver Training and Evasive Skills course, otherwise known as TDE." When he welcomed them to the "safe driving" section of their studies, Angie rolled her eyes.

"Watch me suck at this." She whispered to Bryan.

It made her frown. That day was not her day, at all. Both subjects she was kind of bad at, happened to come up simultaneously. But she knew this was coming and she knew she'd have to work hard. Some classes covered the things she liked, while others were a foreign concept to her. Her only hope was that she wouldn't have set the bar too high, having been good at the previous subjects so far. It would be so embarrassing to fail in something, after a long list of initial achievements.

"Damn! Finally, something you're not good at!" He smiled.

He, on the other hand, has had previous training and he had driven the SWAT car numerous times before, in risky situations. He was going to be awesome at this.

"Not good? Dude, I suck! And when I say I suck at it, I'm putting it very mildly. Just wait for it. Feel free to laugh and make fun of me. It would be a nice distraction." She chuckled quietly while the instructor spoke about safety and whatnot.

"Plus, contrary to popular belief, I'm not good at _everything_. I just choose to only do the things I'm good at, so that it appears that way. And this, my dear, is called effective self-branding, using market-based selection." She added with a smirk.

"Hey you, Cheerleader at the first row!" The instructor called out for her when she abused her whispering privileges in class. "I take it that you already know everything and you don't need any further instructions. Let's see how well you do behind the wheel then. Everyone, outside!" He called out grumpily.

Angie did not like him, not even the tiniest little bit. He was young, cocky, arrogant, his voice made him sound like any self-entitled trust fund idiot, and overall, she already hated this class.

Bryan started laughing, as she had given him the green light to do so. However, she still slapped his shoulder.

"What? Too early?" He gave her a look.

"Save your strength for when I'm actually behind the wheel." She hissed at him and followed the crowd of trainees that were heading to the driving range.

Once outside, she frowned as the instructor tossed her the keys to a huge black SUV, the one actual FBI Agents drive.

"Shit..." She mumbled, climbing on to the driver's seat.

The instructor pointed at a route that had to be done and she sighed. This was not fun, at all.

She started the car and drove off slowly, doing her best to avoid the numerous cones and obstacles, to the point where she drove off the road, just so she would not make any more mess.

When she finished her round and got out of the car, she looked back, only to see cones still rolling on the pavement and sensors beeping uncontrollably.

"Congratulations, Trainee Hunter! You just ran over five innocent bystanders, on your way to the crime scene, which you actually drove by without even noticing, as you were off-road. Also, the enemy had put sensors on the road, to detect any movement. So yeah, you have been made and if this were a real life situation, you and your team would be dead, along with the hostages that were counting on you." The instructor made her feel like a complete failure, much like what she actually was.

"Wow, I thought you were exaggerating when you said you sucked at this." Bryan whispered and, even after giving him permission to joke about it, she took offence.

"My advice to you, if you want to survive the cuts - zip your mouth in class and pay some attention to your instructor. Okay?" The young driver said. "Now, can someone please volunteer? It won't be hard to top...that…_her_." He pointed at Angie and she shrugged guiltily.

One thing worried her. Cuts? This was not a modeling competition, why on Earth would there be cuts? Or had she simply misunderstood?

Bryan grabbed the keys from her hand and he hopped in the car, instantly maneuvering towards the obstacles that had meanwhile been re-positioned by the teacher's assistant. He avoided every single cone and he also managed to avoid the road sensors. He stopped the car at a secure spot, near the place he noticed had been laid out like a crime scene.

"Okay. Apparently, opposites attract." The instructor rolled his eyes while his statement insulted Angie and complimented Bryan's skills, at the same time.

For the rest of the driving training, she kept quiet, barely saying a word. She tried really hard to fake interest in cars. They were just not her thing. At all. She knew how to drive one, but when it came to make and model, she was clueless. Angie classified cars under the following categories: woooah; kind of nice; meh and atrocious. There was nothing in between.

The class went on for an eternity, as far as she was concerned. She pushed herself to try and get better, but there was no chance in Hell she would ever volunteer to drive, ever again.

"As future FBI Agents, you have to learn how to drive fast, in risky situations, avoiding causing any harm to people and damaging property. You also have to be hyper vigilant when behind the wheel - keep your eyes on the road and keep your mind in the game. You might have to discuss case tactics with your team and you might be asked to report to your superiors, while driving. There is no excuse and no place for any errors. You must be 200 percent confident in your skills, before getting behind the wheel. This takes years of practice and a lot of hard work. I know driving seems like such a given, since we all have a license and, probably even own a vehicle. But driving, the way an FBI Agent is required to, is not as easy as you might think. So, next time I see you, I expect you to have revised the rules of street driving in the United States and you will be tested on a special field for training purposes. This was just a taste of what to expect. And a rude awakening for me, as to what I can expect from you." With his last words, he shot a disapproving glance at Angie and then dismissed the class.

It was only about 9 pm, which gave them plenty of free time in the evening. Some of the trainees suggested going to a bar again, but Angie was not in the mood to celebrate anything. Or to have fun.

Bryan decided to hang out with the others, so Angie grabbed a book and a portable battery-powered LED light with glittery pastel pink tassels hanging from the upper surface. If anyone saw her, she'd look like the most basic, stupid young girl. Well, that was if they didn't notice the title of the book she held in her other hand - Serial Killers: types, characteristics and how to deal with them. It was the second book that Barbara, the librarian, had suggested to Angie, and she was eager to start reading it, even if she was only halfway done with the one on psychopaths.

She skipped through the grass, headed to a very special place. She had spotted it as soon as she had arrived at the Academy and she had been longing for a moment of peace and quiet, when she could go sit and relax there.

She sat down on the broken wooden bench and the crackling sound of the wood made her feel something familiar. She smiled. It reminded her of something from her past. She adjusted the lamp and opened the book, reading the first few words of the introduction.

What seemed like just a minute later, someone walked over to her side, startling her.

"May I sit?" He said.

She looked up and saw a familiar face, so she nodded while closing her book, noticing that she was already at chapter five. Apparently, hours had fled.

"Which class is that for?" The man asked curiously.

"Just...some." She shrugged, because it wasn't like her to go bragging about having taken an extra book, or two. She didn't care about people's appraisal. All she wanted was to be prepared with just enough knowledge for when, one day, she would be out on the field and in need of an escape.

"Behavioral analysis?" He smirked. "Guess I found your weak spot."

"I never hid it. I just don't go talking about it." She said calmly. "Is it even appropriate to talk to you, after class hours? I mean, what's the rule? Because, don't take this personally, but I won't be kicked out of the Academy because of _you_...in case this is inappropriate."

"You _really_ want to be here, don't you?" To this question Angie really wanted to reply with a simple: _are you dumb?_

"I don't think any trainee is here against their own will." Vague was the way to go.

"And you know how to avoid replying a direct question." He smirked, wanting to see her worked up.

"Look, Dan, whatever game you're playing, can you choose a different opponent?" She sighed.

"Nope." He said calmly, standing up and walking off.

She opened the book again and decided to forget about the reality, but rather, to learn something new and exciting.


	25. I Should Have Had The Damn Wine

** CHAPTER 25**

_**I SHOULD HAVE HAD THE DAMN WINE**_

She wasn't sure when or how, but she had fallen asleep in his arms. And she hadn't moved an inch until she woke up.

"Bonjour." His smile greeted her.

"Okay..." She rubbed her eyes, her response making zero sense.

"Do you want to stay here another day?" He asked casually.

"No." Before her reply would sound ungrateful, she added. "We still have to go to St. Tropez."

"Alright, you, cheeky one." His hand rubbed her shoulder. Other than a cute gesture, he needed to readjust the articulation in his arm. She had been sleeping on it for hours and he had taken the brave decision to not move an inch, so that at least one of them would be comfortable. That one being Emily.

"Well, in that case, we need to check out in...about 10 minutes." He informed her. This was why he had asked if she wanted to stay longer. He had already received an e-mail, reminding him for the check out.

"How is it already noon?" Emily said frantically.

She had never had the privilege to be able to experience a late morning in. Being tucked in bed, maybe with a guy that she actually liked, sleeping as much as her body needed and without waking up to an annoying alarm clock - that was a foreign concept to her.

"Am I too high maintenance if I tell you right away that I am starving?" She laughed, not wanting to give the wrong vibes.

Emily had her own money. She could pay her own hotel, a holiday, good food and anything she wanted to buy. But it did feel kind of nice to have someone do it for her. And yet, she didn't care who paid, she just wanted the food.

"No." He laughed. Out of all things she could have said, _that_ was what she chose. "I already reserved a table for two at the restaurant. It's just the room that we have to leave. Right now."

Having brought nothing as luggage made it so much easier to leave. They literally got out of bed, covered themselves up with the rest of the clothes that they had stripped down the previous night, before getting in the Jacuzzi, and they left. Life seemed so simple and easy these past few days. But, was it real?

They went downstairs and got served some amazing French food, which, once again, left Emily even hungrier at the end of the meal. She would most definitely be asking for a pizza later.

After a nice walk around the gardens, it was time for them to leave. Richard had offered to go straight to Saint Tropez, but Emily had insisted on going back to Paris, to get the luggage and all the things she had bought, first. Clearly, she won.

On their way back, they spoke about nothing and everything. Random little topics came up and made both of them laugh. If Emily had to sum up what they had discussed, she wouldn't be able to do so, as it was all weird, random, a spur of the moment. That rarely ever happened to the highly organized, workaholic freak Emily Prentiss. But it was everything that Lauren Reynolds had once stood for.

She could not help but notice how, as they parked in front of the hotel, Richard seemed wary. His eyes scanned their surroundings and he had even shot a glance left and right as he walked out of the elevator before her. Maybe it was the profiler in her that was giving things too much importance. Maybe he was just a man of curious nature and he liked to look around him as he walked. She sure did that all the time, so she was in no position to be suspicious of him.

The light in her room was on, as she walked in. She was more than sure that she had turned it off the day before. Plus, the hotel maid would have turned it off in the morning anyway. So, why was it on?

She entered her bedroom and gasped silently.

"Everything okay?" Richard asked.

"Yeah." Emily replied confidently. "Could you give me ten minutes to pack my stuff, please? I also need to change, so please don't enter the room."

"Okay." He sat on the couch and switched the TV on, while he would wait for her. Although, it wasn't like he hadn't seen her borderline naked already. And he most definitely would not mind seeing that again. And again.

Emily then took a more detailed look at the room. It had been completely trashed. The hotel furniture was not harmed, but all of the things she had bought had been taken out of the suitcase and thrown to the floor, as if someone had been searching through her stuff. Nothing was missing, though. One of the gifts she had bought for her teammates was quite expensive and it was just laying on top of the bed, unharmed, so the motive could not have been burglary.

In fact, she knew the motive. She knew exactly who had done it. And she knew one more thing – she had to get the Hell out of there, immediately.

While trying not to freak out while cleaning up the room, the one thing that she was most worried about was the huge writing on the vanity mirror. It had been written with Emily's new red lipstick, one she paid good money for. And it simply said one thing: REVENGE

She grabbed a few wet wipes and she smudged the letters. There was no way she could make them go away completely without using a detergent, but at least she could delete what the message said.

Then she quickly packed her things and she put a few more objects back in place, so that the room would look presentable. The night lamp was on the floor and one of the drawers had been ripped out of the wardrobe, so she fixed that and walked to the living room, where Richard was watching Tom and Jerry.

"I love this cartoon." She smiled, surprising him with a small caress against his chest, as she walked towards him from behind the couch.

"Let's watch it together then!" He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm of it.

"No, I need some fresh air. How about we hit the road? I can't wait to see the French Riviera!" Her word was like the law to him, he just had to obey her.

They walked to the front desk of the hotel and, after some convincing, they were able to cancel her stay there for the rest of the week. Emily has had enough of Paris, in the shoes of Lauren Reynolds. She needed to leave. Quickly.

They found themselves on the road once again and Emily, as she had predicted, was hungry again.

At some point, Richard noticed Emily was curiously looking out the window, as if she wanted to see more, to explore more.

"Want to make a stop? We can find a place for the night and then hit the road again tomorrow." He suggested. He wouldn't mind getting to hold her again, as soon as possible. That was, of course, if she even wanted to share a room.

He exited the highway and they found themselves in the middle of a beautiful small French town. Flowers were sitting on every window and the gardens were beautiful. Emily kept on smiling as they walked around, looking for the restaurant that would look the most appealing to them.

Small town in France meant big plates of food and Emily was quite happy with that. She finally got food that was not fancy, but still, just as delicious. And moreover – it was enough to satisfy her hunger. Well, it only satisfied _one_ specific hunger she was feeling.

After dinner, they walked around some more, wanting to explore more of this hidden beauty. Emily's heart skipped a beat when Richard's hand searched for her own. He made her twirl in place before he held her close. He didn't kiss her right away. No. He just stared at her face, like he had done many times before. And he smiled. She smiled as well, although she wasn't sure why. She wasn't one of those oddly happy people who would walk around and spread joy in the world. She'd only smile when there was a specific reason for it.

His right hand trailed against her lips in such a teasing way that Emily was about to lose her mind. She had to remind herself to breathe, before she'd faint. She hated it.

She also loved it. All of it. Every damn second of it.

His left hand pulled her closer and Emily realized one thing – Richard really liked holding her upper thighs. He wouldn't hold her sides, like normal people usually would. He'd go straight for the upper thigh, which Emily never really paid attention to, as a part of her body. It was basically just a bone, it was where her jeans usually laid on and there was not much more she could say about that area of her body.

But she was slowly realizing how good the touch, right there, made her feel. It was intimate. A friend would never hold her like that. She would never let _anyone_ hold her like that. It was a bit straightforward, but with Richard, she did not mind. She felt like, in a way, he was saying _"You are mine"_ and that, once again, made her smile.

He not only let his hand sit on top of her upper thighs, but he would occasionally squeeze it gently and give it the tiniest little pat, right before he'd let go of her, or move his hand elsewhere.

As soon as he graced her with that long awaited kiss, she noticed another motion – he accompanied her body in perfect sync, as she moved a little, during the kiss.

_"__I am an idiot!"_ – Emily thought to herself, realizing that she was, indeed, a moaner whilst kissing. She didn't think she'd ever done that, with any other partner she had ever had.

Richard was giving her so many 'firsts' that she almost felt fifteen again. Well, the part of her fifteen years of age when she was still pure, innocent, happy. A child, basically.

A child…

Emily opened her eyes for just a second, confirming something to herself: tall, dark, black hair, amazingly white teeth, great skin, gentle smile…

Yes, Richard Jr. would be the sweetest thing in the world.

Emily chuckled against his lips, realizing just how far her thoughts had just taken her.

"What are you thinking of?" He asked curiously.

Richard loved seeing a happy Emily. He wasn't even mad that her chuckles had put a stop to that beautiful thing he was doing to her just seconds ago.

"Trust me, you really don't want to know!" Emily laughed and leaned against his chest.

He was taller than her, so her head rested at a very comfortable place. It felt like this part of his body was specifically made for her to lean against.

She was curious what other parts of his body would be the perfect fit?

_"__Oh my God…"_ She muttered to herself, still mentally calling herself an 'idiot'.

She could not shake him off her thoughts, but luckily for her, she didn't have to. At least not for the next few days.

He kissed the top of her head, holding her close to him for another minute before they started walking again. They were still in need of accommodation, so they decided to go back to the city center and find something they liked.

Soon they spotted a small boutique hotel and, walking in, Emily's jaw dropped. The place was beautiful and she felt pampered. Her life usually revolved around traveling, but she'd only ever travel to go see crime scenes and dead bodies. This was very new to her.

"Would you like some wine?" Richard offered, opening the mini fridge.

"Oh, no. The last couple of times I had quite the time after drinking. I think it's best if I stayed sober. But you can have some, if you want." She yawned, the jet-lag finally catching up to her, after all this time on the continent.

"I'm good. I'm actually tired, as well. We should go to sleep." He suggested.

Emily pointed to the master bedroom, as if she was inviting him to join her. It didn't even feel awkward this time, it actually felt like the right thing to do.

She hopped in the shower first. Two minutes later she realized she had forgotten to grab that mini travel sized shower gel that she had bought the previous day, so she walked out, clutching the bath robe against her naked body.

She found Richard on the balcony, talking on the phone.

The TV was on and quite loud, too, so she could barely hear what he was saying. All she could understand was that he was asking about a "ring" and then he spoke about a "man" and a "car". None of it made sense.

He turned around, as he was pacing, and he was startled when he saw her, staring at him. He quickly cut the call short and walked in the room.

"What's up?" She asked curiously.

"Nothing. Just making some work-related arrangements." He replied very calmly.

Emily studied his behavior. The way he spoke suggested that he was telling the truth.

"You never told me what your job is." She said shyly, trying to play him.

"Neither did you." Was he a player that just refused to get played by Emily Prentiss?

"I told you, I work with people." She smirked.

"Well, then I can assure you that you and I have the same exact job." He smirked back.

Something about him made it clear that he wouldn't give in. She respected that.

"I doubt that. You'd hate having a job that, even remotely, resembled mine." She shrugged and turned around, grabbing the shower gel from her suitcase and entering the bathroom.

When she was done with the shower, she changed into her new night gown and laid in bed, realizing that Richard was already asleep.

"I should have had the damn wine!" She muttered to herself.

This whole trip was messing with her head. She'd feel happy, then she'd feel confused, then she'd feel appreciated and then she'd feel even more upset, realizing that none of this was what her life was really like.

Moreover, there was a deadline to her fairy tale. Cinderella Prentiss would disappear into thin air, no later than Sunday evening. And this time, she was finding it hard to even think about leaving. Why did he have to mess with her head and make her all…normal again?

* * *

Angie woke up on Thursday morning, feeling sick. Bryan had, once again, crashed in her room. None of them knew if it was even okay for them to mix, since all the other trainees had same-sex roommates. But that hardly seemed like something important enough to get them into trouble. Plus, all they did in that room was study, discuss studying and then study some more. And sleep, in separate beds. So, how bad could it be if someone found out?

"You're as pale as canvass." Bryan pointed out when their morning physical training started.

They were outside and it was a bit chilly that morning. Angie was wearing a tiny little top and some Nike Pro shorts, but she felt like she was boiling inside of those. It felt like her insides had caught fire and she was unable to cool her body down. It didn't even help being half-naked when the temperatures had dropped down so much. There was a fire inside of her and it was different than the usual fire that there was, on a daily basis.

"Well, I guess complaining about it won't change a thing…" She sighed, starting her round of 50 push-ups. "So, just drop it and leave me alone. Okay?"

Bryan rolled his eyes. She could be a little hard to deal with sometimes.

Their training officer that day was a new guy. He went hard on Angie when she slacked on her sprint run, later on. He kept yelling at her, calling her a failure, which was one thing that Angie both loved and hated being called.

She hated it, for obvious reasons.

And then, she loved it, because hearing those words gave her everything she needed, in order to push herself and do better, even when she was feeling sick beyond repair.

Every time she heard his annoying voice, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she started her 100-meter sprint all over again. And she did that until she met the FBI time requirements. That was a total of 12 rounds and when she finally managed to do it quickly enough, she fell to the ground.

"Are you okay?" Bryan ran to her side.

Placing his hand on her shoulder, he could feel her heart beating like crazy. This was hardly good for her. He also felt the warmth her body was oozing and how her face was even more pale now.

"Yup." She replied with a smile, because in no alter universe would she ever admit defeat.

She laid on the ground for a couple of minutes before the trainer yelled at her again and gave her a penalty of doing another round of 50 push-ups.

Bryan watched her struggle, as he was a bit further away, completing a different assignment, with a different group of trainees. He saw her eyes squint as she pushed every muscle in her body into obeying her need to complete her punishment. He could see her bite her lips and he wondered if this was because of the psychological pressure or if she was simply overwhelmed with nausea. He remembered how she had thrown up a few days ago, during physical training. Something was wrong with Angela and he couldn't quite figure it out. She had started the Academy, being one of the best prepared athletes, and now she was slacking. He hoped that, whatever it was, it would go away. Maybe it was food poisoning? Bad alimentation? That could certainly explain it. She had stopped eating with Bryan, so he never knew what she ate anymore, or if she even ate at all.

"Fifty!" She said triumphantly before she tried to stand up and stretch.

A hard boot glued her to the ground once again. Apparently, her trainer was a rough guy.

"Fifty disgustingly bad push-ups, Trainee!" The man yelled at her. "Twenty more. And if they are not perfect, you do another fifty. Is that clear?"

"Uh-huh." She said quietly, wanting nothing more but to burst out in tears.

"I did not hear you, Trainee!" He yelled even louder. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir!" Angie called out, as loudly as she could.

She took a moment to clear her mind and to convince herself that she needed to do this. And then she started from the top.

"One…" She squeezed her eyes. Maybe if she didn't see the reality of this nightmare situation, it would feel a little less crappy.

"Two…" It was just as crappy.

"Five…" She was struggling by five, doing them all slowly, mentally revising the right way to do a push-up, according to the FBI Academy standards.

"Nine…" Her voice cracked a little bit and her eyes hadn't opened, not even once, since she started with the first push-up.

"Ten!" Halfway through, she allowed herself to breathe.

"Fifteen…" She needed another deep breath, but she didn't want to waste any time.

"Eighteen…" Her knees gave out and her back hit the ground.

"No, no, no!" She panicked, with her eyes still closed.

"Come on, Angie! You can do this!" Bryan's voice brought her back to reality, which was a place she was not keen on being at that moment. But it served her well.

Angie smiled and took a deep breath.

"Nineteen…" She said, this time with determination in her voice.

"Yes! You've got this! Come on, one more! One perfect, clean, sharp push-up! Come on, you're a champion, Angela! Push hard! Don't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you fail. Come on, just one more time. Five-six-seven-eight…" Bryan was now closer to her and this vicinity, combined with his pleasant friendly voice, gave her the final push she needed.

"Twenty!" She counted and this time did not allow her body to give up on her.

"Kind of good." The trainer murmured and walked away.

Only when she heard his footsteps, she opened her eyes and she collapsed once again.

"You were amazing! I'm so proud of you, girl!" Bryan hovered on top of her as she panted uncontrollably.

"You did not just count to me, as a cheerleader!" Even in pain, even sick, even drained out of all energy, she found the strength to push his nerves.

"Well, I figured that's what you were used to hearing when things get rough and I guess that was a good enough command to get you going." He grinned.

"I never even admitted to having been a cheerleader, like, ever." She said defensively, before she laughed out loud.

"You didn't have to." With one hand, he messed with her hair. "Miss Bow Bow."

"Hey!" She rolled on her stomach and gave him a dramatic look. "Don't mess with the bow, bro!"

He put his hands in the air, in mock surrender, before he started laughing as well.

Next on their daily agenda was another Ballistics class, followed by a visit to the Academy shooting range. This time they were allowed to handle real guns, as opposed to the compressed air ones they had during their first SWAT assignment.

Angie was beyond beat. Her feet had dragged against the floor while they walked to the classroom and her hands were shaky and sweaty as she held her gun. Nevertheless, she managed to shoot pretty well, according to Trainee standards. But according to Angie standards, she sucked throughout the entire morning class.

Their instructor didn't miss a chance to insult her and to point out all the things she was doing wrong. But in all honesty, she did not care, at the time being. All she wanted was to be done with classes, so she could go to sleep that evening. Which, sadly, was something that would prove to be hard.

"Do you want to kill yourself, Trainee?" The instructor said as he walked by her and saw how she was holding a loaded gun against her knee.

She had only done so, because at some point her body felt like it was going to collapse again and, as her knees gave out, that was where her hand ended up resting. Unfortunately for her, there was a gun in that hand and an instructor right behind her, as it all happened.

"Do you mean in general or in that specific moment, Sir?" She answered his question with another snappy question, making a few of her fellow trainees laugh.

"You think you are so smart, huh?" The man gave her a stern look, one that made her regret her previous witty comment.

She looked to the floor guiltily and, for the rest of the class, she said nothing at all. It hurt to even try to be present and to listen to everything that was being said.

When she had to shoot at a target, she barely even focused on the it. Her sight didn't register the huge black circle, the one she had to shoot at, so she just shot randomly, hoping it would not get this guy to yell at her again.

At lunch time, Bryan tried to talk her into going to her favorite restaurant, but she refused. It was her first day at the library and she didn't want to bail on it.

"Hey." She greeted the reception girl, as she walked in the library.

The smell of old paper made her feel a little less sick, or at least took her mind off thinking about feeling sick.

"Oh, are you okay?" Barbara commented, as soon as she saw Angie's white face.

"Yeah, just a tough day at the Academy." She smiled, as she always did when she was undermining the severity of a situation. "Where do I start from?"

"Are you sure you're good to work? Maybe it's better you go get some rest. You can always start tomorrow." The girl didn't want to let Angie work, seeing how ill she looked.

"No, I'm totally fine. Plus, tomorrow I have my other job. And I need to work today, as well." What she really wanted to say was: _Shut up and let me do the stuff that would pay my lunch, because I am starving_.

"Okay." Barbara was not convinced, but Angie was an adult and she could make her own decisions.

She showed her a few things that needed to be re-organized and de-cluttered, and Angie was happy to start right away. In fact, working took some tension off of her and she was able to relax and calm down a little bit. However, her body temperature felt like it was rising with any minute that went by.

An hour and a half later, she had managed to do everything that Barbara had asked of her. That gave her half an hour to spare before her afternoon class, during which time she had to get food.

"Okay, thank you. I will see you in two days then." Barbara waved at Angie when she saw that she had finished.

"Wait. What about my payment?" Angie frowned.

"I'd have to ask my boss to give me some extra tickets, but I haven't seen him in a couple of days. I'll give them to you, all together, as soon as I get them. Don't worry. I'm not going to scam you." Barbara said softly. If only she knew how desperately Angie needed those tickets, right away.

"Okay. See you in two days then." Angie shrugged and left the library, feeling upset and even more hungry, now that she knew that there was no way she could get any food.

She walked to the auditorium and decided to spend the remaining 24 minutes before her class, locked in a bathroom stall, close to the study hall.

She thanked the Lord for having such good studying conditions, especially when she saw how clean the bathroom was. That only meant one thing – nap time.

She sat on the floor, in the corner, between the toilet and the wall, and she closed her eyes. Seconds later, she was sleeping.

At some point, she heard footsteps – people were walking in and out the bathroom and it woke her up. She waited for everyone to get out, so she would magically re-appear, without anyone noticing that she had been locked there for so long.

After splashing her face with cold water, she headed to the auditorium, where Bryan had saved their usual places.

"Angie, I can't keep ignoring this. I'm sorry if this comes off rude and if I'm overstepping my boundaries as your friend, but you-…" Bryan started off and she knew exactly what he was going to comment on.

"Hello everyone. Let's start our class with-…" Their teacher walked in and, luckily for Angie, he interrupted Bryan's intervention.

Angie smiled, happy that she wouldn't have to explain herself to Bryan. At least not right now. She knew he wouldn't drop it.

Bryan groaned in annoyance.

Angie was in no mood to sit through another criminal law class, not so soon after the first one they had. It was torture, it was boring and it was nothing that she wanted to hear about at that moment. So, she took a comfortable position and relaxed, trying to block out every word the teacher was saying. She pretended like she was laying on a beach somewhere, hearing only the waves, crashing against the rocks, and the seagulls, flying around. Angie was really good at creating a story and living in it, until the point where she was able to convince herself that this story was real. Which, actually, was hardly a healthy thing to do.

When the class finished, Bryan nudged her and she frowned.

People were forming their little groups, making plans for dinner and drinks that evening, but all she wanted was to sink in her bed and sleep, forgetting about the hunger she felt. She hadn't had any food at all, all day long.

"Hate me as much as you want, but I'm offering you dinner tonight and there is no other option!" He stated, walking behind Angie, who was clearly directed to the dorm rooms.

She shook her head and ignored him.

"Angie, stop!" He called out, but she just picked up the pace.

It was then that Angie met a new side of Bryan.

He ran in front of her, blocking her from taking another step. His hands grabbed her by the shoulders and squeezed so tight that she felt like she was going to break. His eyes narrowed and he looked like a wild animal, staring at his prey.

"You need to put that damn pride aside before you let it put you five feet under. Do you understand!?" His voice changed drastically. The nice and pleasant vibration was gone and he just sounded harsh, rude, pissed off. "Damn it, Angela, I'm not putting another girl to the ground!" His emotions got the best of him and he let those last words slip from his tongue, although they did not make any sense to her, nor did she know what he really meant with them.

All she knew was that Bryan was not joking. That, combined with the fact that his grip on her was still just as strong, made her nod in defeat.

He grabbed her hand and forced her to walk in the opposite direction. When they entered the Avocado Bar, he ordered half the menu and he stood there, watching her eat, without saying one more word. The fierceness in his eyes was still there and she did not dare say a word either.

The woman at the counter bagged the rest of their food, to go, and he paid for everything. He then walked Angie to her dorm and, still not saying a word to her, he walked in direction of his own dorm. He would rather spend the night with Jack, than Angie, that day.


	26. Prove A Dead Bitch Wrong

** CHAPTER 26**

_**PROVE A DEAD BITCH WRONG**_

"I'm ready!" Emily announced, now fully dressed after her morning shower.

Richard gave her a look, unsure what she meant.

"For St. Tropez. Let's go." She cleared it up for him.

"Maybe it would be better to leave in the afternoon." He replied, after looking at his watch and making a mental calculation.

"Oh, no way. We are leaving now." She insisted, omitting the fact that she was now fully paranoid over the possibility of someone wanting to cut her in pieces. Staying in one place for longer than a night was not an option, especially if she went by Lauren Reynolds in those hotel registries recently.

"But it is a seven-hour drive from here." He wanted to leave, but the timing of it was a bit off. He wants to take his time and enjoy the day, maybe go have a walk outside.

"So?" Emily smirked.

"So, it's seven more hours of driving." He shrugged lightly, not wanting to mention still being a bit tired.

"Oh, please. You have yet to experience my mad driving skills." She smiled innocently. Truth to be told, she had none, but that didn't mean she was not able to fake having skills. Did it?

"Don't get this the wrong way, but no one drives my car." Richard loved his car like it was his child and he always felt really protective of it.

"Don't get this wrong, but I'm not the kind of person to go on a Cinderella rollercoaster ride on the other side of the world, with a man I've never met before. And yet, here I am." She smirked. What Emily Prentiss wants, Emily Prentiss gets. Period.

"But…" He tried to argue.

"Plus…" She said on top of his voice, preventing him from saying anything else. "You already said I'm not an ordinary person, so, really, if you think about it, no random person had ever driven your car, but how cool would it be if a very extraordinary woman gets to drive this baby around? Huh? This way, whenever you drive, you'll think of me. Although, I could see a few future problems arising with that. I mean, hello awkward situations the next time you have a beautiful lady in your car. Hmm." Emily was borderline awkward. Sometimes she was unable to realize that she had overstepped every single boundary when it came to being an awkward human being.

Richard bit his bottom lip, not knowing how to react. He wanted to laugh, but that might seem like he was being rude. He also wanted to cry, on behalf of Emily, because she was just…too much.

"_You screwed up big time, Princess_." She muttered to herself, in thick manly voice, as if a very dear to her heart ex-colleague of hers was right there, saying those words to her, like he had done many times before.

Emily then frowned. Thinking of how easy it had been to share details of such awkward situations and then laugh about them with Morgan, made her feel extremely upset. She missed him, more than she ever realized. She even missed the stupid little things that he did, just to annoy her. Like this habit of his of throwing little paper balls at her when she was trying to focus on a case…ugh, she hated it. And damn, she missed it. So much!

"So, uhm, let's go then." He said after a long moment of awkward silence.

Emily uttered no word after that. Until they were outside, standing next to his car.

He tossed her the key and was surprised at the insanely quick reaction she had when she grabbed it.

"For real?" She tried, oh-so-hard, not to let that silly smile appear on her face.

"For real." He smiled, instead. "I guess if I ever let someone drive this beauty, it would have to be an extraordinary person. So, it only seems fitting."

"Cool!" She said, trying to figure out when exactly did she become a car enthusiast. The Emily Prentiss that she was until a few weeks ago would drive a supermarket cart down the street, if it were legal, and she wouldn't even care, just as long as the thing moved and got her from point A to point B.

"God, please, I beg you, don't let this be the end of my car. Or me." He muttered to himself, in French, not believing for a second that Emily was a good driver.

Sitting behind the wheel, she quickly realized the problems of driving a sports car, in a town, even if it was a small one.

"Oh, come on. MOVE! Get out of there! Seriously?" She yelled at some random car that was blocking her from taking the road to exit the town and take the highway.

"It's France, what can I say?" Richard laughed, enjoying every second of Emily's misery.

"Well, France sucks right about now. MOVE, YOU PIECE OF-…" Richard put his hand on her knee before she could finish that sentence. The first part of what she said was referred to him. The second one, however, she yelled as the window was rolling down while she was giving another driver a very icy cold stare.

"It's called _traffic_. Don't you have it in…uh, where are you from?" There were so many things that Emily never told him about herself.

Then again, he never spoke about himself either. Somehow, it worked out perfectly between them. But didn't that also mean that they were just enjoying each other's' company without any intention to continue, once this week was over?

"The United States." She stated the obvious, as she didn't want to specify a city or even a State. "And yes, we have traffic, but I don't have a sports car. So, it's different."

He laughed, rubbing her knee and trying to get her to calm down the fumes that were coming out of her ears.

"Don't give me that look." She commented, ten minutes later, as they were still stuck in the town. At this hour, everyone was in their car, on their way to work.

"I can't help it. You just look so sexy when you are mad." He suppressed a smile.

"Oh, you'd find me absolutely irresistible if you knew me in real life, then." Without thinking much about her wording, she just blurted it all out.

"So, this is not real life then?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Pff, not even remotely!" Emily laughed.

"Tell me, what is Lauren really like?" Emily shot him a glance as she heard his question and noticed how beautiful his eyes were. Damn French men, she could never resist them, unlike Italian ones.

"Well, the real me…" This time she worded it better, not calling the real version of herself Lauren. "She is a control freak. A workaholic. Occasionally a bitch, too. Actually, a lot of the times. She likes to think that she is taking care of others, but fails to realize just how much harm her actions can do to the people she loves. As you already know, the real me leaves at the first possible chance she gets. She abandons and she doesn't look back. Sometimes I wonder why people like me at all? I mean, do they really? They sure seem to like me, but I don't get it. I'd hate having a friend like me, in my life."

"Wow…" He exclaimed disapprovingly.

"What?" She said a bit snappily.

"Well, that's nothing like what I imagined you to be." He then saw her give him another look and then he noticed a car driving a little too close to them. "Eyes on the road!" He urged her to be careful, for both their safety…and for the sake of the car.

"See, this is why I have a screwed up car, so I can lean in and give this asshole a good scratch on the side of his flashy red car." Somehow Richard figured that she was only half-joking with that statement.

"See? This is the kind of person I imagine you to be. Strong, confident, bad ass who kicks ass. Sure of herself. Very intelligent, a quick thinker. Problem solver. A woman who would be considered as the light of the room. Someone who makes people laugh, who puts you at ease and who can start up a conversation with just about any type of person. Reliable, I think your friends love and respect you mostly because of the fact that you are probably the most loyal and reliable person they have ever known in their lives. I think the real you is very modest, but deep down inside she knows exactly what she's worth, and that's a lot. She knows how beautiful she is, both on the inside and on the outside. But she also is very wary of perceiving herself as a good person, as she doesn't want to be bigheaded. She would rather belittle herself and say the words you just said to me, than let herself believe how awesome she is. Because if she did, there would be no turning back. And that, combined with the fact that she is a workaholic and a perfectionist, would only mean that she would have to apply even more pressure to herself, with everything she did, afraid of the possibility to lower down her own standards, to let people down…to let _herself_ down. You said you like to take care of people, so maybe this is your own way of taking care of yourself. Instead of thinking about _you_, you prefer to make others happy and this is what gives you satisfaction. I suppose you have tried to do little things that make you happy, but you quickly realized that it was nothing, compared to the joy of putting a smile on a friends' face instead. So, you present yourself as someone who doesn't care about herself all that much, but in reality, the more you help others, the more you show how much you are in need of helping your own self. It's become your routine and you can't help it. It's your addiction. And I think you leave people in the moment when you realize that helping them is hurting you and helping _you_ is hurting _them_. So, you leave, you disappear and you don't look back, because you know that you better hurt them by leaving, then destroy them by staying. Because this, in my humble opinion, is what an amazing, strong woman looks like. And I believe you are the closest representation of that image. I just wish you knew it, too." Richard spoke without taking a breath.

Emily was now all tensed up, her fingers were digging onto the leather wheel and her heart was pumping at the speed in which the car was going – fast.

_"__I swear to God, this man is a fucking profiler!"_ She thought to herself, silently freaking out.

The real Emily would have found ways to argue with Richard's statements, but Lauren couldn't. She remained quiet and the only sign of life was the blinking of her eyes, as she hit the highway and also - the speed pedal.

In her mind, she replayed a few of the most memorable moments when she had left someone. Strangely, what Richard said about leaving them, instead of staying and causing them more pain, applied to every single scenario.

However, there was this one time she left – the time that hurt her the most. And she was unsure if her decision had been good. It had been years ago, but it still hurt, as if it were just yesterday. She remembered her last words to that person and she remembered her reasons for leaving, but she wanted to know one thing – how would her life had turned out if she hadn't left them?

Suddenly, she felt tears in her eyes. She could not control her breathing and she made the conscious decision of pulling over at the first possible chance, to switch places with Richard.

"Hey, what happened?" He noticed her negative reaction, but it was hardly about what he said. Initially, she didn't seem to feel anything. It was only after she deep dived in her memories that she felt so upset.

Emily got out of the car and started pacing a little bit. After some consideration, Richard decided to get out and check on her.

"I'm sorry if I upset you." He whispered, but as he turned to face her, he realized she was battling her own daemons.

Emily gulped and blew off some air that she had been holding in since the last time she inhaled, a minute ago. She shook her head, mentally trying to shake off her thoughts, but it did not work.

"And to think I got excited, thinking this was a spontaneous highway stop for some more kissing." He chuckled lightly.

A joke, as lame as this one, was the last thing she wanted to hear at that moment.

Weirdly, it worked.

It made her chuckled a bit too, and right after that she burst out in tears.

"Mon petit…" He muttered, wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm a horrible person." She said with desperation in her voice.

"So am I." Something about the way he said it seemed a bit off. However, she didn't care to ask him to elaborate on that.

* * *

Angie woke up on Friday morning, sweating, and yet feeling extremely cold. There was one possible explanation to that phenomenon, one that she would ignore for as long as she possibly could.

She skipped the morning shower and jumped into her workout clothes before heading to the gym. It was chilly outside and she felt lucky to have indoors training that day. That did not mean that she felt any less sick while doing the various exercises.

Their trainer from last week was back and he seemed a little less nice to Angie. She was now used to people treating her like crap and, when she felt like crap as well, she simply did not care who or in what manner spoke to her.

Bryan only greeted her with a wave and then he stood to the side, with his new male friends. His idea was to make Angie realize that, in order to feel good, she had to take care of herself, and in case she was unable to, then she had to let her friends take care of her.

He watched her suffer for two hours, knowing that even if he was by her side, she would not let him help her with any exercise. She needed time and space and that was what he gave her.

After the training, he saw her sprint towards the restrooms. He waited outside, for a good ten minutes, before she walked out, paler than he had seen her before.

"You are not paying me any more food. Is that understood?" She said snappily. "I've been on my own my whole entire freaking life and I am still alive. Hence, I do not need, nor ask for, your pity. So, if you are here to nag me about lunch, forget it and move out of my way."

"I'm not here for that." He said, although it was part of his reason to have followed her.

"Good, then you can hold my hair." She said calmly.

"Huh?" Bryan did not understand her statement until he saw her turn around and re-enter the bathroom, holding her hand against her mouth.

Like a true friend, he held her hair, as she leaned over one of the toilets one more time.

"I hate seeing you like this." He stated once she could breathe again.

"Get used to it, bro." She shook her head, knowing very well how hard she was going to push herself in the Academy.

"If there is anything I can help with, do you promise to tell me?" He asked weakly.

"Yeah, I guess so." Angie winked at him, unsure if she would actually ever ask for help. "But, please, don't make me feel like I'm under constant observation. I've always been independent and I hate feeling undermined."

"You got it, babe." He winked back jokingly.

"Eww, call me _Babe_ one more time and it would be the last word you ever pronounced." She laughed.

Angie hated it when people made sexual jokes about her. However, she knew that Bryan was just being a weirdo, so it wasn't that big of a deal.

They headed off to their first class of the day, which was once again Criminology. It was the third class of this kind and they had been asked to finish one of their books by today. Being as busy as they were with everything else, almost nobody gave the book much importance. Some trainees had started to read it, but nobody had managed to actually finish it all.

"Alright then, third class has come and that only means one thing…" Their professor seemed oddly devilish. "Please, leave all cell phones and tablets in the bins that you will find at the back of the auditorium. Grab a folder from my desk and take a seat, bringing only the folder and a pen to your own desk."

"Holy shit, if I ever wanted to be back in high-school, it would be because of the cheerleaders, not the blitz tests. Goddamn!" Bryan muttered to himself. He had read the book and he had paid attention in class, but he didn't feel prepared to sit an exam on the subject.

"Oh, yuppie, gimme tests, gimme more!" Angie clapped her hands enthusiastically and earned herself a look of disapproval from other trainees around her. The professor also noticed her happy mood and he was more than eager to crush it.

"You have two hours to finish 90 multiple choice questions plus two open questions about a fictional case. Good luck." The professor explained and the first trainees started to grab their folders from his desk.

"Sir, are we allowed to manage our time as we please?" Angie put her hand up, but shot her question before the man would even notice she was trying to get his attention.

"Yes, Miss Hunter. Do whatever you want with your time. I don't care." The man rolled his eyes as he replied to her.

"Okay." She smiled. "Sir, may I ask for a favor?" She added quietly, walking over to his desk, to ask him in private.

"Something tells me you will ask, no matter what I say. So, sure, go ahead." He was a bit cranky that day and she was getting on his nerves.

"Can you, please, wake me up after 30 minutes? I mean, I would have set my alarm, but there's the whole no electronics rule, so yeah. I'm not feeling well and I could really use some rest or I'd flank that exam. Please, Sir? I'm not trying to be rude, I just want to do well, but I need to rest." She was somehow too cute to get a _No_ for an answer.

He thought for a moment. The way that Angela spoke made it sound like she was being honest. She was modest and a bit shy when making such a weird request, but in the end he decided that if she needed to ask for it, then she really must have needed that rest. He had been asked worse questions in his life. Also, just by looking at her pale face, he knew she was not bluffing, so he shrugged and said _Ok_.

Angie then made a pillow for herself, using her bag, and as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

Thirty minutes later, the professor walked by her and nudged her shoulder.

"Trainee Hunter, it's time to fail your first exam." He said with a smirk.

"Oh, on the contrary, Sir." Angie rubbed her eyes lazily. Her cheeks were now a little more rosy-colored than before and she felt a tad bit better. That nap was everything she needed. "It's time to rock it!" She added cheekily.

Opening her folder, she read intently and analyzed every word and situation. Without wasting much time, she crossed the right answers and moved on to her open questions. There was a case to be read and then the questions were about the type of investigative style that each one of the trainees would apply, if they were an Agent.

Angie spent a little more time on those, since she found the multiple-choice part of the exam easier. She was now almost on-par with her classmates, who were just starting to read the case as well.

"Damn, you even write like a Barbie." Bryan laughed when he saw her calligraphy.

"Shut up." She hissed at him, not wanting to get her test annulled if the professor thought they were discussing _that_, instead of her handwriting.

Angie managed to be among the first ones to hand in her test and the professor tried to hide the fact that he was impressed. At first, he thought Angie was playing smart and undermining the importance of the exam when she stated that she'd be sleeping, but then he had noticed her pale face and he had figured that the girl made a good choice on how to manage her time.

Bryan handed his test in about five minutes after Angie and he walked outside, finding her laying on the grass.

"How well did you think you did?" He started small conversation, since it was still awkward between them.

"Spectacularly well, if I shall say so. You?" She pat the ground, urging him to lay down as well.

"Meh, not too bad, I guess. Some of the questions were stuff that I've already had to deal with in SWAT, but others were just tricky as Hell. So, I don't know. I guess I was average." He replied honestly, now lying next to her.

"I have to go." Angie noticed that it was time to start her job at the ballistics section. Normally, she would be excited about it, but that day she didn't feel like doing anything.

"See you in the second class." He waved at her, feeling extremely guilty over the fact that he was about to go get food while she was going to work, so she could afford the same. But he respected her wish, for now.

Angie spent only about an hour, cleaning guns and making sure everything was ready for pick-up, whenever the Agents needed their weapons.

As soon as the guy handed her the ticket, she was sprinting towards the closest cafeteria. The piece of paper got her a nice fresh salad and a ham and cheese sandwich with mayo. For dessert she grabbed an apple, ignoring the amazing aspect of that tiramisu that she spotted on the counter, near the fruit. Her drink of choice was a Coca Cola, against her own belief that it was full of sugar and thus, to be avoided on a daily basis. She needed the sugar and every drop of caffeine she could get for free, in order to survive the day.

Speaking of caffeine, she decided to head to the main building and go grab herself another free coffee from the lounge.

One more time, she felt like people were watching her, as she tried to fit in and go unnoticed. This time it was proving to be harder, as she was wearing her Trainee uniform, but she did not care. Free coffee, and maybe two more cookies, would trump any last bit of self-respect she had left.

"Trainee Hunter." The man she had previously met at the Lounge greeted her loudly, making sure everyone would turn around and notice her.

"Hi." She smiled awkwardly, holding all of her lunch food in one bag, in one hand, and a large black coffee in the other, clutching on to two big cookies with her pinkie finger.

She wondered if this man slept there, since he managed to bother her two out of the two times that she has been there. Then, looking around, she realized she saw the same exact faces from before. Was that why everyone was staring at her? Did everyone know each other there? Was she not supposed to be there?

She didn't really care much, since she liked the cookies. The coffee was bad, but _free_, which she also liked.

"How is the Academy going for you?" The man asked casually, his hand making a swift motion, urging her to take a seat as one of the big sofas near them just became available.

"Good." She shrugged, placing her goodies on the small table in front of them, as they were now sitting next to each other.

"Still bored?" He kept on asking.

"Well, if I had to be honest, it is very anti-climactic. I mean, I've wanted to do this for years and I guess my expectations were way too high, I get that. But, it's just…weird. Some of the classes are structured in a very useless way. So far all we've done is listen, but when are we going to _do_ stuff? I mean, I love reading books and learning new things, but I'm a girl of action, I can't just sit on my butt and expect to read about the right way to handle a crime scene, can I? Plus, we were handed compressed air guns for the first and only field training we ever did. That was just…not cute. It's like the teachers think we are a bunch of idiots who cannot handle themselves in a professional FBI-working environment. And, honestly, people are talking. We don't like the way we are treated. I overheard some Trainees already want to quit, not because they cannot take the heat, but because of the overall structure of it all. People constantly look down upon us and it's annoying. We all bust our asses 24/7, we barely even eat and sleep these days, we do our best to challenge ourselves and to be better, in order to prove that we belong here. But, no matter how hard we push, it's like, it doesn't even matter, you know? I, for one, ain't quitting. Angela Hunter is not a quitter! I'd rather stay here and be bored out of my mind, starved and sleep deprived, than quit and live my life knowing that I had a shot at my lifelong dream and then I screwed it up. But, I swear to God, if one more teacher belittles me, Imma flip a switch and stick his all-knowing face in the toilet until they apologize!" Angie spoke calmly, honestly, with passion.

The man narrowed his eyes. He most definitely did not expect to hear _all_ that, especially not with _those_ words. She was honest, brutally honest.

"Okay…" He trailed off. "Is there anything else you dislike about the Academy?" He added sarcastically, but Angie took it for an actual question.

"As a matter of fact, yes!" She crossed her hands against her chest. "Budget cuts! I mean, what the heck!? It's the FBI, it's a government institution. Do you really not have enough money to fund our studies? Can we use that as an excuse one day? Like, if someone gets killed during a mission and we can just shrug and be like: _Sorry, Sir. The Academy didn't have enough money to teach us how to deal with this kind of a situation, we don't even know how to use this gun, because we were playing with toys while studying, so oopsie, you is dead, yo_!"

The man laughed genuinely. This girl got balls and she was not holding back.

Somehow, she didn't seem rude or obnoxious about it all. She spoke from the heart and the man knew he was getting the truth, the rough truth. He wasn't used to people who'd be honest, so he understood how her words might possibly come off wrong, but he also understood _her_. And she had made a damn good point about the Academy, slacking. He actually agreed with her point of view and he knew that she had not been exaggerating about how things were going, but unfortunately his hands were tied.

What made him curious, though, was whether this girl would still have the balls to tell him all that, in such a brutally honest way, if she knew who he really was?

"I understand your concerns, Trainee Hunter. However, the budget is not something I can comment on, as it does not depend on me. You can take that concern to the Director and he would be glad to discuss it with you." He suggested and Angie rolled her eyes.

"My goal is to stay as far away from that guy as possible. Or all of the major birds in the FBI, really." She shrugged, bringing her coffee cup to her lips and taking a sip, followed by a wince. "I tend to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, like, _all_ the time. I don't want to rub the Gods the wrong way, you know?"

"The _who_?" He tried not to laugh one more time. He had a reputation of having a stern look on his face and this girl was not going to ruin that for him.

"The Gods. You know, the big birds who flock together, dress the same and walk around like they own the Bureau." She said before taking a big bite of one of the cookies, to counter the awful sharp taste of the coffee.

Also, looking around as she spoke, she realized she was kind of surrounded by them, at the Lounge.

"Oh, _those_ people. Gotta hate them. So stuck up and rude, right?" He said casually.

"Exactly. I don't like them and I don't think they will like me. Which, really, is quite upsetting, since I'm a very cute and bubbly girl and literally everyone likes me. But I ain't taking chances with the Gods. I've bust my ass to be here and I will continue to do so until I get my badge and some sort of respect. After that, I will bust my ass five times more, so I can be the best version of myself and also an Agent that the Bureau would be proud to have. There are no Gods in my fairytale story." She smirked.

The way she spoke, it sounded naive, but the more he analyzed her words, the more he realized what she stood for.

Young. Spirited. Outgoing. Brutally honest. Hard-working. Extremely highly motivated. Smart. Opinionated. Why wouldn't the Bureau be proud to have someone like her hold one of its prized badges?

The man received a phone call and it was obvious he had to tend to it immediately. He stood up, placing his hand in the air, as if to excuse himself, and he walked off.

Angie shrugged. She didn't care if he left or stayed. Free treats were why she was there anyway.

* * *

Five long minutes later, Emily finally managed to stabilize her emotions. If she didn't know any better, she'd be freaking out over the possibility of being pregnant, with all the weird mood swings that she had been experiencing ever since Garcia drugged her. Accidentally, of course.

"I don't like crying." She whispered, still in his arms.

"Nobody does, but we all cry." His hand pulled her in before it trailed down, resting at the small of her back, while his other hand rolled up and started to play with her hair. "Crying takes the tension off, it helps you clear your mind. Keeping things inside of you is only going to do you harm. So, there is no shame in crying, remember that."

"Why are you so nice?" She chuckled. "Also, why do you sound like a shrink?"

He laughed as well. "I've been told to be a nice guy."

"I can see why." For a moment, she pulled back, just enough to be able to stand right in front of him, taking a good look at his face.

The next thing she knew, he was kissing her. Or _she_ was kissing him. She did not fully understand where that came from, but it didn't matter anyway.

A car drove up, slowing down as it neared them. Someone from inside the car yelled "Get a room!" at them, in French, and it made them burst out in laughter.

"Why don't we?" Emily suggested.

"Lauren, you're messed up…I don't want to-…" He started off, Mr. Nice Guy and all that, and Emily stopped him before he would embarrass himself with the '_I don't want to take advantage of you'_ speech.

"I mean that I'm tired. I'd like to drive some more, but maybe it's not the best idea to keep going right now. My eyes are closing, I could use a power nap. I'm too old for a field trip." She smiled, feeling his hand travel down just a tiny little bit, now cheekily resting over a very specific bone of hers.

"Oh, well, in that case, we are about half an hour away from Lyon. It's a beautiful city by the river Rhône. It's actually the capital city of the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes region. It's quite big, I'll show you around. There are so many local delicacies to try. Oh, mon Dieu! Rosette Lyonnaise, saucisson de Lyon, andouillette, pistachio sausage, coq au vin, gras double, salade lyonnaise, lettuce with bacon, croûtons and a poached egg, marrons glacés…" When he started to enlist all the typical local foods, Emily had to stop him from speaking.

"Shh!" She put a finger against his lips and he went silent. "I don't know what turns me on more – your sexy French accent or the sound of all these foods."

He laughed genuinely.

Emily then smirked, mentally recalling her days at the Interpol and her brief relocation to the Lyon field office. She had loved the city and the food. However, she'd let him think that it was her first time there, just for the sake of watching him try really hard to impress her and to make her have a good time in a city that, he thinks, she's never been to.

They hopped in the car again and drove off. Lyon was on their way to St. Tropez, so the highway they were on was already going to take them there. This time it was Richard who drove.

On their way, they made another stop, at another small town. They had the whole day, or better yet – the whole _week,_ to do whatever they wanted, so seeing something new felt like the right thing to do.

They walked around the town for a bit and Emily found it to be similar, yet different than the previous one they had visited. Her curiosity had no limits.

The best part of it was the way he held her. Because, whenever he had the chance, he'd hold her, touch her, interact with her in so many ways, not just physically. And it wasn't in that overly creepy way, like he'd come off as grabby or possessive. Everything he did felt right, moderated…somehow even calculated, although that was not how she interpreted it.

After a few hours of exploring, they found themselves back in the car, on their way to Lyon. It was starting to get dark outside and Emily remembered one thing – she had previously needed a mid-day nap. However, that walk, with _that_ man, had given her the energy she needed throughout the day. Those, plus a coffee, but it was really Richard who was keeping all of her senses awake.

Entering the beautiful city of Lyon, Emily looked out the window. She loved a big city at night. There was something so magical and mysterious about the lights and the darkness. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds, picturing all the great memories she had from Lyon already.

Richard knew his way around and he drove straight to a hotel that he liked very much. Five-star, luxury, as Emily had suspected.

She also wondered, how come he said they had the same exact job, and yet she was on the verge of going broke, while he was living his best, lavish life? Obviously, she knew that the job comparison had only been a metaphor. There was no way Richard's job would be _anything_ like Emily's.

After the check in, they both took a shower and jumped in the bed, realizing how desperately they needed to have some rest.

Emily was exhausted. Usually, she'd be the first one up, late at night, urging everyone else to go out, have drinks, have a good time. But ever since Garcia's little stunt, Emily had been experiencing the side effects like crazy. Even though the doctor had warned her about them, she still never imagined she'd be _so_ emotionally unstable and physically tired.

"Lights off?" Richard asked when he saw her yawn for the third time as they were watching some French TV show, in bed.

In the _same_ bed.

Emily was itching to make an oddly sexual joke out of his words, but she decided it was best not to do so.

She nodded and he switched the lights off. A minute later she was snuggling by his side, her eyes closed and she dozed off to sleep.

Richard, however, found it difficult to sleep. He spent the next hour just thinking about some stuff that he had been struggling with for the past few days. He felt his heart beating a little faster, each time he tried to force himself to think that it did not depend on him and that he simply had no other choice. It did not work. Anxiety took over him and all he could do was to stay immobile and allow her to get some rest, while his mind took him to deep, dark places that he was unable to get himself out of.

Apparently, Emily was not the only one fighting some inner daemons.

* * *

"Yes?" A man said grumpily as he picked up the phone on his way to the elevator.

"I was just talking to her." He continued.

"Uh-huh. She came over to the Lounge." His index finger pushed the elevator button and he started pacing around as he waited for it to arrive.

"No, no. Absolutely not. On the contrary, I think you should push even harder." He smirked devilishly.

"Which floor are you at?" He asked, walking in the elevator.

"Alright, come by the elevator. I'll be there in a minute." He said before cutting the call short.

When he stopped at the 4th floor, the door opened and he saw a familiar face.

"Dan, my friend!" The man smiled.

"Hey man." Dan replied, giving him a fist bump.

Apparently, the two of them were quite the pals.

"So, is she a _Go_?" Dan asked curiously.

"Oh, she most definitely is." The man replied as they both made their way to an office, so they could discuss the matter in private.

"Good, but I also want Bryan in on that." Dan had an idea and he really needed this man to give him the green light. From what it looked like, the man was the one pulling the strings and Dan was sort of a puppet, without much authority.

"I don't know, Dan. He seems a bit lost. I really don't want us to waste our time and energy on someone who doesn't look like he'd fit what we are trying to achieve here." Ben shrugged and he did not seem happy about Dan's idea.

"Look, I know we originally wanted _one_. But they kind of go as a package deal. We can't have her without having him, as well. They perform brilliantly together. I want to push them hard and see how they would react when their whole world comes crumbling down. Will they stick together? Or will they point fingers at each other? Plus, I know Bryan seems a bit lost, I agree with you on this one. However, he's been through a major trauma right before joining the Academy, so maybe we should cut him some slack. I want to give him the chance to come out of his shell, to show us what he's really worth. Damn, I'd love to see him come out of Angie's shadow, honestly. For now, he seems to follow her around and do as she pleases. But, can we change that? Is he able to evolve? Plus, he's a 20-David in LAPD's SWAT, this dude has mad skills already. He'd be just perfect for our little experiment. If we can crack him, we would be doing ourselves a favor. And I know that two subjects cost twice as much as what we are already struggling to pay for, but trust me Ben, it will all be worth it. I have a pretty good feeling about those two, they fit what we need and when we are done with them, they wouldn't know what had hit them. Trust me." Dan smirked.

"You talk a lot." Ben rolled his eyes. "You had me at _package deal_."

"Seriously? So, they're both a _Go_?" Dan's enthusiasm made him sound like a young schoolboy, excited to get permission to go on his first school trip with his little buddies.

"Yes, Dan, both Angela and Bryan are a _Go_. If, however, either one of them compromises our mission, your head and badge are on the line. Am I clear?" Ben sighed, still a bit unsure, but he decided to trust his old friend's hunch.

"Thanks, man. You won't regret it. I promise!" Dan nodded in his direction and walked over to the door, as he had to attend the afternoon class.

"One more thing." Ben stopped him before he could open the door and leave. "How did she do on the test?"

"Oh, apart from the fact that she had the nerve to ask the teacher to count down 30 minutes for her as she slept before she would even open the folder with the exam papers…" Dan laughed. He had gotten to know Angela a little bit, from what he saw from afar, and he was still getting surprised by the random silly things she did and the ease with which she got away with them. "She nailed the damn thing. She got a 100%, not even a comma missing from her open question answers. I'm telling you, man, this girl is _it_!"

With those words, Dan walked out.

"Push harder then!" Ben called out after his colleague, unsure if Dan even heard those words.

He did, indeed. And he was eager to comply.

* * *

The afternoon class was quite good. Angela learned a lot of new things and she, for once, was not upset about wasting precious time.

"Bobby, hi!" She waved at her new friend as she saw him walk over to one of the DNA analysis machines.

He waved back, but then made it clear that he wasn't going to hang out with her, which was quite upsetting, as she actually liked him and thought he was super smart.

"Is that our sample from the woods?" Bryan asked when Angie pulled a cotton swab from a little plastic container.

"Yes, a different swab, though. I figured we should give this one more shot." She busied herself, preparing the thing for analysis.

This time she'd have to do it all on her own, with just Bryan by her side.

When their test results came up, later on in the class, she frowned.

"That's the same result we got last time. Same DNA, just…not like anyone else's DNA." Bryan commented.

"Oh, wow. That's it!" Angie had a revelation and she typed something on the computer they had near them.

She searched for a specific type of DNA and then compared it with what they got on their screen.

"It's not human DNA!" She finally said it. "It's animal blood."

"Oh, that would make sense. The dude taught us that we can analyze both human and animal DNA with these machines. What was that, the first class, right?" Bryan was unaware of how much he had been paying attention in class.

In high-school he had been completely different. He was the hot, popular guy from the football team, who attended class when he wanted to and who listened only to things that concerned girls. Excluding anatomy class, because that was boring to him. The 16-year old Bryan would find this brand new version of Bryan so damn boring. Yet, the new Bryan found the 16-year old Bryan so damn dumb and superficial.

"So, this is not proof of death. Amanda is just considered a missing person, as of right now. Even if it was human DNA, even if it was _her_ DNA, we would still have no proof of death, since we can't accurately measure the amount of blood that was on the crime scene, so we can't calculate if she had lost enough blood to be considered deceased. Maybe she was just injured. And yet, it's not even _her_ blood. None of the two swabs. So, that presents another option for our case: it could all be a hoax." Angie said triumphantly, also very silently, as she didn't want anyone else to hear those words.

She noticed Dan walking in the laboratory and she deleted the data from her analysis, pretending to be trying to figure out one of the machines near her. Faking being dumb was her specialty.

"Hello everyone." Dan greeted as he took a seat next to the professor.

"How's it going?" Dan asked.

"Good. They're all trying to figure things out and they're testing some new stuff that we've learned." The guy replied.

"You know exactly what I'm asking you about." Dan raised an eyebrow.

The man felt a little ill-at-ease. He started to adjust his glasses nervously and Dan could tell that his forehead was now sweating.

"Well, they are curious and they just wouldn't drop it." He replied vaguely, shooting Angie and Bryan a look.

"Good. That's how I want them." Dan smirked and then walked over to a group of Trainees, aiming to make their day miserable by intimidating them with his presence as they analyzed DNA from someone's saliva.

He did not go anywhere near Angie and Bryan. However, Angie noticed how he spoke with Jack for a few seconds right before Jack made his way to them, casually.

"Are you ever going to drop it?" Jack said to Angie in rude manner.

"No." She replied very calmly.

"It was an accident. Get over it." Jack sighed, showing absolutely no emotion for Amanda's presumed death.

"Look, we don't want to associate with you. Please, respect that and leave us alone before I smash your face against something." Bryan suddenly became a different man. He didn't do this to save Angie, he did it to get Jack away from both of them.

Angie smirked, watching Bryan finally start to have a voice and an opinion. She quite liked him that way.

"Oh, so you don't like me because your dumb little frenemy got herself killed and you somehow think it is _my_ fault, huh?" Jack laughed and Angie considered the option of being the one to smash his face against something. The nerve this dude had!

"Don't you have anything better to do than to waste time and materials in trying to prove a dead bitch wrong?" Those words threw Angie over the edge.

Before she could even register what her body was doing, her left fist flew to Jack's cheek, making him take two steps back from the punch.

Everyone was now staring at them and Angie was all about giving them a show.

"Amanda is dead, okay!? Have a little respect! Yes, it is partially _your_ fault she even strayed away from the group. But I guess it's not entirely your fault that you were raised as a spoiled brat, unable to show affection for another human being. You probably grew up in a broken family, possibly just with your dad, who was working all the time and paid you and your sibling no attention at all. That's right, if I had to guess, you have an older brother who never cared enough to hang out with you, so you had to do everything on your own - raise yourself on your own, entertain yourself on your own, cook for yourself and everything else. Guess what? So did I, but that did not turn me into an emotionally drained idiot. So, it's really _your_ own fault, as we are all responsible for our own actions and words. And, in this case, it was your dumb words that made Amanda leave. So, yes, you are responsible for her death, you dickhead! Now, do as Bryan said and leave us the hell alone!" She started off cool and collected, but halfway through her speech she got excited and started to raise her voice until, by the end, she was practically shouting at the guy.

After that, she triumphantly walked out of the laboratory and sat on the first bench she found in the hallway, next to the ballistics section of the Academy.

Bryan followed her, a little confused.

"Did you not just tell me that Amanda might still be alive?" He asked curiously as he sat beside her.

"Yup, but that's our little secret. We need people to think we are clueless, so the culmination of this could be even sweeter." She smirked and opened the bag that she had managed to grab on her way out of the laboratory. She still had her fruit from the lunch and she was quite hungry.

"So, you just stormed out of the room, because you needed a quiet place to eat your apple?" Bryan raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly." She said before taking a soundly bite off the fruit and giving him a very content, sly smile.


	27. I'll Make It Short & Keep It Nice: MOVE!

** CHAPTER 27**

_**I'LL MAKE IT SHORT AND KEEP IT NICE: MOVE!**_

As they checked in the Lyon hotel, Emily kept quiet for the rest of the night. After a hot shower, she tucked herself into bed and pretended to be asleep. Something was bothering her, once again.

Richard was unsure if he had the strength and will to ask Emily to talk about her feelings, to share her worries with him. They weren't _that_ close yet. Or close at all.

In the morning, he kept quiet, fiddling with his phone under the covers, not wanting to wake her up. He was texting with several people and then he read a few articles online before he got bored and decided to resurface from under the covers, only to meet Emily's smirk.

They had, once again, shared a bed. It had become normal, like a habit, it felt like the right thing to do.

"Watching some dirty videos down there?" She teased him about the way he was hiding while on his phone.

"What? No!" Richard was taken off-guard.

She could tell his cheeks were changing color, but she left it at that.

He took a moment to study her next movements. She hopped out of bed, fresh as a daisy, put the hotel robe on and walked out to the balcony, letting the sun hit her face until she smiled. And it was a wide smile, a genuine one.

With a sigh, he joined her, now both looking over to the horizon.

"Are you pregnant?" It was the only reasonable explanation for her mood swings and weird emotional outbursts. And the way he just came out and asked about it so casually made it sound kind of sweet. Kind of caring. Kind of…hot.

"What? No!" She replied with the same words, same intonation, same confusion on her face, as when he had replied to her just a few minutes earlier.

"Because, if you are, and if it is giving you any kind of problems, for whatever reason…" His hand trailed up from her mid-spine, to her neck, giving her the tiniest, most gentle massaging squeeze. And also, goosebumps.

"…You should know that I love kids. And kids love me." He smiled and she just wanted to take a picture of that face in that very moment and print it, frame it, blow it up, put it up on a wall in her office back at Quantico and look at it every time life gave her lemons, or in Emily Prentiss' case - serial killers. That smile could heal, if not physical harm, then simply just her heart. Emily would take that.

"No, I…" She licked her bottom lip and looked down.

As her eyes diverted from the beauty of the rising sun, over the city of Lyon, she felt another wave of overwhelming sadness. No matter how good things got, there was always that annoying moment that ruined everything and she could not fight it. It was becoming a fear – one of sadness lurking around every corner; that might turn into paranoia – one that might prevent Emily from living a healthy, normal life and experiencing both the highs and the lows of it. Lately, the higher she got, the lower she fell, then the harder it was for her to pick herself up on her feet again. She was over and done with this vicious circle. She just needed it to be broken.

"I don't _believe_ I'm pregnant…" She said, knowing what the symptoms were. _Remembering_ those symptoms.

She bit her bottom lip, because simply licking it earlier hadn't done any good at calming her down. Her right hand subconsciously rested on her abdomen for just a second, but Richard noticed it. And then she looked away. It didn't take a genius for one to figure out what this woman was communicating. Richard knew he had to change the topic. Immediately.

"I guess you're not in the mood for an abundant breakfast either?" So far, he had figured out one thing about Lauren - the woman had to be bribed, if he wanted her to do anything, even if she was doing it for herself, such as feeding herself.

Lauren liked the game. Lauren was tough. Lauren would never come out and say she wanted something. She would create a game and play it by her own rules. She would need to be stimulated, she would want to be chased. She wouldn't play the game if her opponent wasn't at least as smart as her, if not smarter. She found regular people boring – their intellect could not measure with hers; their needs were nothing that interested her; their lives were just a mesh of boring grey colors, with no interesting image being formed by those colors.

Lauren, however, was a colorful mess, a splatter of everything, sporadically thrown on a surface, maybe washed out by a few storms, through the time. She was complex, like any other human being, but she was something else. In the game of life, Lauren was a baller. And also, the referee. She would call the shots and she would disobey the rules, bend them to fit her as she pleased and then deny any involvement in foul play. Lauren knew how to get herself out of any situation. She was a boss, a Girl Boss, and she would take crap from _no one_.

"That is correct." She smirked, pretending to not care about breakfast.

Unfortunately for her, he heard her stomach churning just a few seconds later.

"Fine, maybe a croissant…or five." She shrugged innocently.

Yes. Lauren was definitely someone who enjoyed the game.

Richard ordered room service, asking for almost everything on their breakfast menu, wanting to impress Lauren. Little did he know, Emily was very familiar, and also very fond of the Lyon cuisine.

She dipped her croissant in a bowl with some traditional cream and she enjoyed every second of every bite she took before she ended up licking the side of her pointy finger, as she had gone a little too deep when dipping.

"So, the last woman I dated dumped me because she said I was a dick." Richard said, out of nowhere.

Emily paused her joy, holding her food in one hand and her coffee in the other, while she assessed the situation.

Discussing previous relationships was a universal recipe for a disaster.

Did he really just go there?

In the end, she simply laughed.

"I can see that." She said cheekily.

"Ouch!" Richard put his left hand to his heart, pretending to be wounded.

"Seriously though, why would she say that?" If Richard was willing to give out personal information, Emily would sit there and gather it all. So, why not ask him that?

"I suppose it is because I called her a gold-digging bitch." He said with a smile.

Any woman would be taken aback from his brutal honestly. Any woman in the world, apart from two - Lauren Reynolds and Emily Prentiss.

This was the first time Emily realized that she liked this Richard guy, with both of her identities. So far, she had let _Lauren_ be happy, but then Emily's daemons had always gotten in the way. But this was the first moment that both of her sides agreed that Richard was cool.

"Which, in all honesty, she was!" He continued. "I mean, you should have seen some of the texts she sent me. Like: _Hey, I just saw some TV show about the world's best rated hotel and you absolutely have to take me there!_"

"Wow, for real? I've seen straight-forward women, I mean, I myself am one, but this…pfff, this is extortion!" She laughed.

"What did you do?" Both Emily and Lauren were curious to hear how that turned out, because both Emily and Lauren were good at investigating and would not sit down quietly without hearing the last of it.

"Oh, you better believe I took her there. We were sitting on the balcony, quite like we are right now, only that it was dark and she was, well, not as covered as you are…" He trailed off.

Emily looked down at herself. She was in her underwear and the robe she had thrown on was barely covering anything at all. So, she could only imagine what the other woman looked like.

"So, we are having champagne and she goes on and on about the things she wants from me. And, don't get me wrong, I have money and I love to entertain a beautiful woman, but I don't like being taken advantage of. So, I let her speak and I'm just sipping my champagne, looking at the twinkling lights of Dubai. I feel the breeze on my face and I feel nothing else. And since I feel nothing at all, I don't care what happens next. So, when she is done enlisting all the things that I have to buy her, I tell her that she is a gold-digging bitch and she decides to dump me. I stand up, I finish my champagne and I let her know that she could find herself another man who would take her back to the States, as I've only booked one-way tickets. And then I leave the room that, the next morning, got cleaned and given to a new guest, so she literally got thrown out by the management. I clearly never heard from her again." He chuckled, it felt weird to put this whole thing into words.

Emily opened her mouth, but then realized she had nothing to say. And then Lauren laughed, because out of both of them, Lauren was the spontaneous one, the one who would laugh out loud whenever she felt like it.

"Man, and here I thought _my_ love life deserved its own TV show." She shook her head, almost not wanting to believe he had been so forward with this woman.

"Why were you even with her if she was such a horrible person?" She asked curiously.

"Well, uh…" There goes the part that only a man would understand. "You know…she was hot…" Richard shrugged after his confession.

This time it was Emily who started laughing, because those words reminded her of a dear old friend of hers, Derek Morgan, back in his macho man days.

"I guess it's my turn now…" She sighed and took another sip of her coffee, strategically trying to make sure there was no food residue on her teeth, as she was about to speak.

"Alright, uhm, it was not the last guy I dated, but it was recent, as in from the past couple of years." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she licked her lip.

"Okay, so I met this guy through friends. It was actually a blind date and we all know these don't ever work. So, my friend Je-…" She trailed off, realizing she was about to spill JJ's identity. Not that it mattered, but still.

"Jessica, so she had been to a bar with another friend of ours, Patricia, both blondes, fishing for a guy for Patricia, as Jess is married. Pat found a guy she liked and she made her way to the table, leaving Jess behind and a minute later, Pat's guy's friend was crawling to the table where Jess was, alone, sipping her fruity cocktail like a good girl. So, one thing lead to another, Pat and the guy did not head it off, but Jess actually enjoyed talking to this other guy, the friend, Larry. So, Jess tells him that he sounds like the type of guy that a friend of hers would date, and she offers to fix us up on a blind date. Problem is, Larry liked _Jess_, even after Jess told him she was married and she was only there as back-up for Pat. So, Larry strategically decided to say Yes to a date with me, only to be able to see Jess again, assuming she would at least accompany me to introduce us. So, a few days later, Jess and I enter the same bar and, unfortunately for Larry, he had failed to catch it when she told him that it would be a quadruple date and that she was bringing her husband along. So, this whole time Larry kept on drinking and when he got some liquid courage, he started saying weird things and giving Jess some suggestive looks. I mean, I was enjoying it all and I wasn't even interested in this Larry guy. Actually, the only reason why Jess thought I'd like him was because he was a dude, so there is that. I guess my standards, at the time, were quite low. Later on, Jess' husband and I start giving each other looks and I try to calm him down, as my date has literally been hitting on his wife since we sat at the table. But he's just too pissed…" Emily chuckled, remembering Will's face during what happened next and how much JJ was taken by surprise.

"So, I turn around to order myself another drink, because four were not enough, and then the next thing I see is the husband flying across the table ad tackling Larry to the ground. This whole thing goes on for about ten seconds before the bouncers break them apart and help them stand up, both being dragged to a different corner of the bar. Jess goes over to her husband and I just don't know what to do, because I clearly did not fit in with anything that night. But yeah, the drinks were good. So, I do what I do best – I stand there awkwardly and hope that nobody is looking at me. Suddenly, I hear some random drunk ass screaming that he'd fight for me, too. And I start laughing, because, as I said, nobody even _wanted_ me there to begin with. I just, somehow, ended up in the middle of this scene. And before I know it, after four drinks, I decide it is a good idea to jump the drunk guy and let him know his opinion was unwanted. So, there's me, yelling at a guy who is barely standing on his feet, while Larry's mouth is dripping blood and Jess is making sure her husband is okay, which he was, because he is a tough guy. So, the bouncers are now by my side, de-attaching me from the drunk guy, whom I was apparently straddling on the floor while screaming about feminism. I don't remember any of that." At this point, she started chuckling uncontrollably.

"You don't remember straddling a guy?" Richard asked, amused by the way she used words to tell her story. She was good at it.

"No, thank God I don't remember _all_ the guys I've ever straddled!" Emily rolled her eyes, in the back of her head thinking about straddling men, serial killers, in the sense of fighting for control and submission, even survival.

Richard, however, understood her words in a very different way and the ease with which Lauren spoke about not remembering guys she had straddled made him blush.

"So, the next thing I know is that I am freezing. I look around and it turns out I had been thrown out of the bar, as if it were all _my_ fault. Jess and her husband are still inside, blocked by the bouncers, until the Larry guy would leave, and they are desperately trying to get a hold of me, but my phone is in the pocket of my jacket, in the cloak room, as it is quite a fancy bar, and the little ticket for my jacket and my bag is inside my bra. So, it's a mess." Emily kept on laughing. Until that moment, she had forgotten about this Larry guy and the whole disaster that this blind date had been.

"Oh, no! Please tell me you had money on you, to go home?" Richard, being the cutest thing ever, worried about her safety more than hearing the rest of the story.

"Just wait for it." Emily smirked. Or was it Lauren? They were battling for dominance throughout this story.

"Since Jess and her man are inside, I just sit there, my ass freezing and aching from the lack of comfort, as I balance on that metal tube I found to sit on. It starts raining and it's freezing outside. Two bouncers are assigned to stay by my side, as security, as the other few walk back in to go grab Larry and escort him out, without him seeing me. Only that they were quite dumb and they walked right past us. Larry looks at me and dares to speak…" Emily trailed off, creating some suspense.

"Oh, come on. Spill it! What did he say?" Richard was literally on the edge of his seat, expecting _anything_ from Lauren.

"_Uhhh, since yo' friend don't wanna, how 'bout we go snuggle and snooze a lil' bit tonight?_" Emily gave him her best impression of that idiot, as she repeats his same exact words to her that night.

Richard lost it and laughed out loud. "Snuggle and snooze? Who says stuff like that?"

"I know, right!?" Emily grabbed her coffee mug once again, sitting back in her seat with a smirk that let him know that maybe the story was not over just yet.

"Oh, God. What else?" He asked curiously. "Plus, you cheated! I told you about a woman I actually dated for a little bit and you only told me about a failed first date. That's not juicy enough."

Emily bit on her tongue hard, trying to keep herself from making some comment about making it juicier.

"As I said, wait for it…" Emily smirked, looking relaxed and chill.

"Larry leaves with a cab and I'm sitting there, freezing and, at this point, I care about nothing – no self-respect left in my frozen body. So, a guy walks out to smoke a cigarette and I ask him if I could take a sip of his drink. The guy mutters something and walks off, but then I hear one of the bouncers laughing. I turn around and all I could hear is the sound of my palm against his sweaty cheek. He grabs my hand and then the other one, pinning me against the nearest wall and telling me to shut the Hell up. Then he lets me go and I'm just bored and over it at this point. It all seems unreal and my shoes are hurting my feet, so that's the biggest worry of mine, at the time. I hear the other bouncer walking back into the bar before this tough guy comes up to me again and sits down on the metal pipe as well. He's tall, well-built and, clearly, the pipe did not support his weight, along with mine, so it breaks in half, taking us by surprise and leaving us on the ground. Mind you, it had rained earlier, so everything is muddy and cigarette butts were all around us. Once again, I end up straddling some guy I don't know, and I just start laughing, wondering if it is all a dream. You know, when things are so weird and with too many details, there is a chance they are not real, but just a hallucination, or a dream. The next thing I know is that he's saying he's sorry about my bra and I realize one of the straps is now broken. He tells me it snapped when he held me back, while I was inside, straddling the drunk guy. I don't give a crap about the strap, so I just keep on laughing. And then I notice that he is actually quite good looking, maybe a bit younger than me, but hey…" Emily shrugged innocently.

"No, you didn't…" Richard gasped, his intuition already telling him where this was going.

"I ask him if he wants to break the other strap as well and he suggests we do it at some place more private. By this point, we don't even realize that everyone is leaving the bar, as it is time for them to close. So, we are surrounded by people, none of whom are my two friends, and we are covered in mud and cigarettes. Now, I don't know _when_ he managed to go back inside, leave his uniform, grab a bottle of fancy vodka and leave, but the next thing I know is – we're in his apartment. It's small, mind you, I mean the apartment…" She smirked, because neither Emily nor Lauren could hold back from making suggestive comments like that.

"It smelled like shampoo, you know those minty male scents? Like in college. So, yeah, I end up casually snuggling and snoozing with him for a few weeks to follow until I…" She trailed off.

"You left." Richard added, not even making it sound like a question. It was an affirmation. He was sure that this was how things ended.

Emily shrugged, confirming his words.

"And that is an accurate representation of my love life." She smirked, finally being able to take a bite of the next pastry that was in sight, on the table in front of them.

"Wow…" Richard was a smart man, he spoke languages and he always knew what to say. However, at that moment, no words came to mind.

"Oh, and then there's a guy who tricked me into dating him, posing as someone else, but that got shot down almost immediately. Fool me once, you're either dead to me or simply just _dead_." Both Emily and Lauren saw themselves saying something like that, although if she had to choose one, she'd say those feelings came from Emily's heart.

Richard choked on his coffee lightly, but masked it up as just a cough.

Emily noticed his face changing and that he became a bit more tense, but she figured mood swings were normal. At least to _her_, they were.

"What is the worst thing a woman has ever done to you?" She asked curiously. Basically, her previous statement told him that the worst that a man ever did to her was to pose as someone else and to try and delude her. So, it was now _his_ turn to spill the beans.

"She died." He said casually and Emily gasped at his honesty. "It's okay. It was so many years ago. I mean, I loved this woman with all my heart and we had so many plans for the future. And in no way do I blame her, but I guess I mean that the thing that hurt me the most in life, was that I lost her. Other than that, women are catty and weird and I don't really get them, so I don't get too upset with whatever they do. I just don't care anymore."

Emily's hand topped his own, as it rested by the fruit bowl, on the table.

"Hey, it's not that you don't care. I know very little about you, but I can tell you have a big heart. I just think that, after this woman left you on your own, maybe you closed yourself off and you don't want to let any other woman close to you, close enough to be able to annoy you, to hurt you…to leave you again…" Realization hit Emily - she was basically crossing both of her names out from Richard's lifeline, by just suggesting this theory.

"Probably. Who knows?" He was very casual. A bit too much. She wasn't buying it.

"Who knows, maybe one day you will find a woman who makes you happy and who wouldn't…" Emily felt a huge lump in her throat. She tried swallowing, but it didn't help. It was as if her body did not want her to finish that statement.

Both Emily and Lauren were women who would leave. She knew exactly _when_ she would be leaving Richard and, while Emily was intrigued to know more about him, Lauren had no intentions of having any further contact with this boy-toy, as she had once liked to call her love interests. Especially the French ones.

Richard shrugged. It was quite weird to be discussing all of that with a woman, let alone one he had just met and one he really, _really_ liked.

"Now, what was the _best_ thing a man had ever done for you?" He changed the topic again and Emily noticed a pattern in his behavior.

Richard was prone to letting things out as he spoke and he wouldn't even realize he was doing it. Emily had already gathered some information about him and she was going to use it against him, if she needed to. Even if she didn't _want_ to.

"That's an easy one! My friend Dennis covered for me this one time when I screwed up really bad at work." She replied immediately, thinking of the time when David Rossi had taken the blame for a shot that Emily had fired during a case, without having secured the room first. The shot had shocked one of the victims, causing them to faint and hit their head against a chair. Emily could have lost her badge for it, if the Superiors had been in a bad mood that day.

"No, I don't mean _friends_. I mean guys you've been with." Richard corrected himself, making it much harder for Emily to reply.

"Oh, uhm…" She started off, but then made a very long pause.

She excused the silence by the need to eat and drink some more, but once that was done and her mouth was not full anymore, she had no further excuse for the lack of words.

She bit the inside of her bottom lip as she squinted her eyes, trying to think harder.

Morgan had done a lot of nice things for her, so have all the other guys on her team and also the guys at Interpol back in the days. But guys she had dated? She could not recall a single nice thing, except in terms of naughty business, in which case most of it had been quite nice.

"Uh…" She exclaimed once again and felt like a complete idiot.

How could she ever think of herself as a tough woman, if it was so damn obvious that men did not respect her. She did not seem to be liked by guys, if not for some snuggle and snooze. Was that what Emily Prentiss stood for? Was that why she had bust her ass her whole entire life, trying to get out of the shadow of an incredibly powerful female parent, getting a degree from Yale, working for several secret services organizations around the world, becoming a profiler at the FBI? After all of that, even after surviving numerous serial killers and life threats, was Emily Prentiss just a girl-toy for the men around her? What if she hadn't been playing with boy-toys all along? What if the toy had a female figure, tall, slender, shoulder-length straight dark hair and a piercing gaze? What if _she_ had been the toy all along? What if that lack of human connection was her own fault? Could she really expect people to treat her nicely, if all she ever did was run away?

"I mean…" She shrugged, deciding that it was better to sound like an idiot school-girl, than to say nothing at all. "There's this guy who was really nice to me. He took me to cool places and stuff, but the nicest thing he ever did was that he listened. Whenever I had a meltdown, he just shut up and listened. He also held me. Whenever I cried, he held me so tight that my body stopped thinking about the pain it had accumulated on the inside and just focused on his touch." She spoke slowly, shooting glances at Richard as if to check _when_ she would be busted.

As she spoke, her hand was still on top of his, on the table. With one swift motion, _his_ hand was now on top and she let it stay there. His fingers vibrated as he squeezed her hand when she spoke. She could swear, she was able to feel every twitch of his body, every breath, every gaze.

"His hands were big enough to fully wrap mine underneath…" With one more glance, she realized he was warming up to what she was saying.

"And the way he looked at me was different than any other guy I've been with. He was…" She gulped, realizing how Richard's eyes had darted to their hands just as Emily spoke about this unnamed man's hands, before he looked at her curiously.

"He was genuine. Real. I guess. I didn't know much about him, but at the same time I had this feeling I had known him for years. You know? He made me feel strong and that, exactly _that_ was the best thing a man has ever done for me." She ended off, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, as to steady her wild heartbeat.

Richard's free hand went up and caressed Emily's cheek. She was so beautiful to him, the way the sun illuminated the cheek that he was caressing, while the other cheek stood in the perfect shade. It almost felt like he was looking at two women, at the same time. One, sunny and very bright, with a bubbly personality; a dominant kind of person. And the other, a more closed up one, hiding in the shadows, but hiding the strength of a woman with incredible intellect and vast life experience. That one, the one in the shadows, had potential, but she would never be able to shine like the other one, if she didn't possess the same qualities as the bright half.

If only those two halves formed into one woman, that woman would be unstoppable!

Richard felt pride, there was something rewarding about the fact that _he_ was the one man in Lauren's life to have given her the best thing she had ever received. And it was also liberating to know that, out there, exist women who don't connect the best gifts in life to a thing that could have a price tag on it.

However, was he _Lauren's_ best thing? Or was he _Emily's_? Which side of that beautiful face was now smiling because of him? Was it the sunny one or was it the one hiding in the shadows?

* * *

Saturday morning was a great time for everyone at the Academy. They had only one hour of training that day, which meant that everyone had enjoyed one additional hour of sleep in the morning. Everyone but Angie.

She had spent the entire night, darting between the bed and the bathroom. At some point she simply gave up her hopes of getting any sleep, and she threw on a large t-shirt, fixed her hair in a tight bun and sat on the bathroom floor, waiting for the next wave of nausea to hit her. Bryan was sleeping in his own dorm, so she was all alone, but it was okay, because the thought of asking anyone for help never really crossed her mind. She had only had herself for as long as she could remember, so opting for help was just a shameful downfall, in her eyes.

Plus, after hearing the rule about no cell phones in class, she had taken that to a whole new level. She had abandoned the old cell phone that she had been carrying with her everywhere, while in sports camp, right before the Academy. It was now switched off, thrown at the bottom of a shoe or a bag, or maybe in her locker. She wasn't sure and she didn't care. There was no outside world that she needed to connect to. The FBI was her new reality, her whole world at that moment.

She barely heard the alarm clock go off, as it was next to her bed, while she was, once again, hovering on top of the toilet. She then forced herself to get up, take a shower, put a tiny bow in her head and go survive that one hour of physical training.

She waved at Bryan, who immediately noticed her pale face and the way her body was swaying in the air. Angie had always had a very confident strut, but she seemed in pain now, weak. He knew better than to ask her if she was fine, though.

Bryan kept an eye on her for the next sixty minutes. Angie had been struggling in physical fitness for a couple of days now, but that day was the worst he had ever seen her. Her eyes were constantly closed and he could tell she was biting her lip, to prevent herself from thinking about the pain. She had only stopped twice, both times in order to run to the nearest bin when she was being sick. But through all of that, she had a brave face on, a tiny smile even. If someone just looked at her, they would never be able to tell that she was actually feeling like shit. Whenever Angie noticed someone's eyes on her, in the brief moments when she had decided to open her eyes to check if the group had maybe moved on to a different exercise, she had smiled to the people around her.

Bryan found that both great and disturbing.

Great, because having such a strong poker face and high tolerance to pain, meant that she would be an amazing Agent one day, an Agent that anyone would be proud to have on their team.

Disturbing, because, on a personal note, her poker face only reassured him that, in their friendship, he would never be able to believe a word she would say to him. And that did not sit well with him.

After training, Angie disappeared. Bryan tried looking for her at the rest-rooms on the first floor, then the second floor…the third floor. He even went up to the rooftop, thinking maybe she needed to feel the breeze and to breathe in some fresh air, but she was nowhere to be found.

In reality, Angie had gone to the FBI building and begged the Ballistics division to allow her to work, even if it was not the time, not the day that she was supposed to be there.

She knew that feeling sick like that would be a problem that would hold her back from studying properly. So, in order to get better, she needed more food. And that meant – extra work.

She managed to score a food coupon for a short 45 minute shift, cleaning guns, before she ran to her first class of the day.

"Oh, holy patience, don't leave my body or I swear to God, this bitch is leaving in a body bag!" She said through gritted teeth, noticing how some other Trainee was just getting comfortable at the only seat Angie had ever sat in since she first stepped foot in the auditorium.

"Okay, I'm going to make this very short and keep it nice, too…" Angie said with attitude, as she walked towards the girl.

"MOVE!" She raised her eyebrows threateningly for just a split second and it was enough for the other girl to get the point that Angie was not joking around.

Something had changed, for some reason Angie was showing a different side to that bubbly girl everyone knew her as. She had low tolerance and she acted out against someone she saw as a threat, even if the subject of this fight was a stupid chair.

"I said…" Angie walked even closer, grabbing the girl's shirt and slowly forcing her to stand up. "Move!"

The girl dared to laugh in Angie's face. At that same moment, Dan walked in, along with a new teacher for a whole new class that they would be starting that day.

"This is my place, comprendes?" She mixed in some Spanish, just because when she was mad, she never knew what language she was speaking and usually ended up using a mixture of at least two.

"Relax, it's just a stupid seat." The other girl kept on chuckling and the only thing standing between Angie and sanity was the fact that Dan was now there. And if Dan ever disliked someone, said someone would be sent packing.

"Say that to someone who tried to kidnap your child, some day. Now move!" Angie said with attitude and, finally, the girl moved.

Angie was most certainly as attached to her favorite seat, as one would be attached to their child, but at that moment it felt this way and she could not hold it in.

Dan smirked from distance and his gaze followed the other trainee as she walked out of the auditorium.

Angie had never seen her. She was not bad with faces, she could recognize most of her fellow trainee classmates, but this girl had a new face and Angie could almost say with certainty that she had never seen her before. Also, was this girl so weak that she would _leave_ a class after just a small misunderstanding with a classmate?

Angie shot a glance at Dan, noticing how he was eyeing the girl as she left. That was the moment when Angie decided that Dan was on her list. And _the Angela list_ was not a place anyone would ever want to wound up on.


	28. You're Nasty When You're Sick

** CHAPTER 28**

_**YOU'RE NASTY WHEN YOU'RE SICK**_

The breakfast took them almost two hours and as soon as the sun was high up in the sky, Richard suggested a tour of the city. Emily was up for it, since she loved everything about France and, no matter how many times she had visited the country, she always found new things to experience and to fall in love with. Things and, occasionally, people.

They dressed up quickly, left the hotel and then started walking, without a specific direction in mind. It was something that Emily had always enjoyed – walking aimlessly, checking out houses, the windows of random people, the profiler inside of her wondering what those people were doing, or were they even at home. Emily always found herself walking down new streets, finding new little corners, cafes, arts shops and who knows what else that she might not have found if she had stuck to her usual daily routine. Maybe Emily Prentiss wasn't so dull and predictable after all. Maybe, like other people, she had a poker face and, in reality, there was so much more inside of her than just an alter ego named Lauren.

"Que penses-tu de Lyon?" He asked casually, with one hand in his pocket and his other hand on her shoulder, as they walked down a small street. He was curious to hear what she thought of Lyon so far.

She smiled, looking back at him. He had only been speaking English lately and she missed his French.

"Je pense que c'est une ville incroyable." She replied and Richard had the same thoughts in his head – how much he had missed _her_ French. And that Lyon was an incredible city, too.

"Do you want to enter?" He asked when he noticed how her eyes lingered a little more on the window of one of the shops.

Emily had eyed at least three cute things on the mannequins and she was aching to do some shopping. However, since Richard didn't let her pay for _anything_ so far, she didn't want him to one day update his 'worst experiences with a female' storyline, by telling another woman about this American gold-digger who used him for a free week in France, plus shopping.

Emily tried to keep on walking, but her eyes were glued and she could not move.

"Come on, I know you want to have a look." He nudged her lightly.

"Fine, but under one circumstance…" She smirked, already stepping foot inside the store. "I pay for my own purchases, is that clear?"

He nodded and walked right after her, busying himself in the men's section, looking at tailored suits and some blue shirts, while Emily brought seven pieces of clothing to the changing room.

He took that as a note to find the nearest place to sit, which, strategically, was placed right outside the women's changing room.

She walked out in the first dress and looked at him, as if to ask his opinion.

"It's a beautiful dress." He commented. "But it looks plain on you. It does not compliment your personality at all. There is no spice in it, no playfulness. It's just black and that is it."

Once again, she found herself appreciating his brutal honesty. His opinion was exactly the same as Emily's, however it differed from Lauren's. While Emily liked his honesty, Lauren have found it to be a bit annoying. Nobody had ever dared to question Lauren's taste in fashion before.

She took that dress off and came out of the dressing room with a different one on. This one was grey and black and it had a bow on her lower right thigh.

"Mmh." He said in appreciation, licking his lips as she walked towards him. It fit her so perfectly.

As if on cue, he stood up right when she turned around, pointing at the half-closed zipper. His right hand touched her bare skin for just a second, before he zipped her up, but it was enough to give her goosebumps.

"This is the one." He stated, unsure if his statement was in regards to the dress, or the woman in that dress.

"Wait, there are other things I want to try as well." Emily pouted, but she started twirling around and she could tell she already loved that dress.

"I know it's _the one_ when I see her." He said, maybe confusing "her" with "it" as he translated from French. Or maybe he said it intentionally? Either way, his eyes were glued on Emily as he spoke.

"Okay…" She let herself enjoy the fabric for one more minute before she asked him to unzip it.

"But first, I'm trying the other stuff on." Once again, Emily would do as she pleased.

She ended up walking out of the shop with _this_ dress, a pair of pants and a really cute shirt, all of which were more Emily's style than Lauren's.

What she liked the most about her new things was the fact that she had swiped her own card when she purchased them. She was more than sure that, somewhere in Quantico, Garcia had already received a notification about Lauren's credit card activity, if she was smart enough to be stalking Lauren as well. Garcia might now be freaking out to find out that Emily was no longer in Paris, but Emily did not let that bother her much, as she had no phone and no way of being contacted. She was completely FBI-free for a week. Well, except from the emotional baggage and deep psychological trauma that years on the job had caused her, of course. And several scars.

Before they knew it, Thursday had gone by. They chose a cute little restaurant by the river, for dinner. The waiter brought them a candle, to set the atmosphere at the table.

"Congratulations." The waiter said as he put the candle in the middle of the table.

"What?" Emily asked, confused.

"I see a lot of newly wed couples and I can tell you are one of those, too." The man said in thick French accent, as he tried his best to speak good English.

Richard smiled and put his hand on Lauren's shoulder.

"Yes, just this Sunday. Thank you. We are actually leaving for our honeymoon soon." Richard said with ease and even Emily believed him.

There was something about the way he said it, the way he spoke, in general. He sounded so convincing, so calm, that nobody could tell that he was bluffing, not even Emily, who knew for a fact that none of those words were true.

"Yes, we are going to Costa Rica for a week." Emily joined in on the bluff, leaning towards him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"I still remember the first time we met. Our dear friend Lauren introduced us. She thought we'd hit it off and…well, here we are now." She smiled happily, because if Richard wanted to play, Hell, he better believe Emily would play along.

But he noticed one thing – she mentioned that Lauren had introduced them. Why was she now suddenly talking about herself in third person? It almost sounded to him as if she no longer wanted to be associated with Lauren.

And, subconsciously, Emily didn't.

* * *

"Wait up!" Bryan called out for Angie when he saw her pick up her things and make her way to the exit of the auditorium.

"I have to go to work." She said without even slowing down her pace.

She had picked up, or actually – begged for, an extra shift at Ballistics that morning, but it was her day to spend her lunch-break at the library.

"And I have to go to the library." Bryan caught up with her and he smiled.

Angie knew that he just wanted to spend time with her, she could tell that he had missed their little lunch dates when they would discuss other Trainees, their classes and just about everything. If she had to be honest with herself, she missed that too. But health and good alimentation came first and she knew she needed to keep those two jobs.

They chatted all the way to the library and then Angie introduced him to Barbara, the girl who worked there. While both girls started walking around, re-ordering books on the shelves and doing all the things they needed to get done, now that everyone was at lunch and nobody was in their way, or in need of a receptionist, Bryan found himself a nice book that he was interested in and he sat down on one of the couches that he had been eyeing each time he had been to the library. It was one of the few cool and comfortable ones and there had always been someone on it, so he was now more than happy to have it all for himself.

"He's really hot!" Barbara finally came out and said it.

"Yup." Angie already knew how Barbara felt. The girl basically had heart-shaped eyes when she checked him out, as soon as they had walked through the door.

Bryan was, indeed, an extremely good-looking guy and Angela knew that. Everybody knew that. Angie was the only girl who wasn't acting like a complete fool around him and that was one of the reasons why Bryan felt so connected to her. He could truly say he loved her with all his heart, the pure and deep kind of love, a strictly platonic one. And Angie was more than okay with that. Bryan was the kind of person Angela liked to be surrounded with. All her life, she had been searching for people like him, hanging out with them, learning from them, growing because of their strength, their advice and their wit. Bryan was a little bit older than her, so she considered him to be a big brother figure – a guy who would always tell her the harsh truth, who would keep her in check and who wouldn't hesitate to slap her across the face if she was being irrational.

Deep down, Angie hoped that one day she would be out on the field with him, too. She trusted him and if she had to put her life in anyone's hands, it would be Bryan's. Unfortunately, though, she knew that after the Academy they were taking two very different paths in their career, but that didn't mean that they would have to separate completely.

Angela had only ever connected with a very few people in her life. Each one of them had disappointed her in a way, or left her, so a few months ago she had made a promise to herself to never let her barriers down, never let someone in. She made that promise while filling in all the paper work, the FBI Academy application forms. This whole adventure had to be her journey of growth and she was initially convinced she would be doing it on her own. But then came Bryan and everything changed.

She could never help the way she felt about people. If she disliked someone, that was it, she was done with them and she wouldn't even care. But if she liked someone, she could never keep those walls up and keep the person out of her life. It was just not her nature. She was tough, but she was made out of love, loyalty and bravery and she wouldn't deny anyone the chance to get to see those qualities of hers, whether she wanted to do so or not.

"Thank you, girl. You've honestly been of great help lately." Barbara said as they were done working and on their way to go get Bryan.

"You're welcome. I enjoy my time here. I found out some really cool books to add to my Wishlist." Angie smiled and grabbed her little bag from behind the reception counter.

"How is a hot girl like you so interested in books? I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm a nerd, I've always been one; I grew up locked in my room, reading until late and refusing to go out with the mean kids my age. I loved school and books were a way of escaping reality." Barbara said shyly. "But you…well, you look like those cool cheerleaders who wear nice things and always have amazing hair, the newest make-up and perfumes, you know, those girls who take a lot of selfies and have many followers on Instagram. How did you even get into books?"

Angie chuckled lightly. If only she had a dime for every time she had heard those words.

"Well, contrary to popular belief, I didn't grow up with money. If I wanted a perfume, it wouldn't be the newest and coolest one. It would be one that smelled good and that I had to work my ass out to buy for myself, from the local drug store, not a fancy shop. I've been doing little jobs for money, things or favors since I could remember. I got used to it and I really don't mind it, because I hate having nothing to do. I prefer learning new skills and meeting cool new people, like you." Angie smiled and it made Barbara smile, too.

Barbara didn't mention that, but girls who looked like Angie – cute and put together, had always bullied her in school. Barbara had started to hate this type of girls, but Angie was different. She had the looks, but she also had the brains. Most of all – she had a heart.

"So, I had to provide for myself and I guess that made me a little more sensitive to other people, you know, the ones who are also not as lucky. I never cared what someone looked like on the outside or how they dressed or spoke. I cared about the way they treated me and the other people around them. And yes, I was a cheerleader, but you better believe I've shut down every single bully attempt from my fellow cheer friends. They would try to knock girls like you down, just because they wouldn't hang out or dress like us, but I knew that girls like you are the future. I mean, look at you! I know you have a major background in physics – each time I've been here you were reading a different book on physics. You will do great things in life. I think you are hiding behind this desk here, because girls like me had knocked down your confidence and had left you unsure of yourself. But that shouldn't be the case. I believe you're super smart and capable and that, if you try something, you will succeed." Angie kept on talking with a little smile on her face.

"Now, to answer your other question. I've been given an amazing education in my early childhood. That basis shaped me into a good human being. A curious one, too. When I was a child, I started reading fairy tales, but I didn't like them. They never felt real or interesting to me. So, one day I decided to try a book of one of the grown-ups around me. And I really liked it. Everything was written in a different way, it wasn't so pompous as fairy tales, I didn't feel like the book was treating me like a child. I felt grown-up, too, like _them_, the people I admired in my life. So, I kept on reading it and then I started grabbing other books from the higher bookshelves at home, the ones that were definitely not meant for kids my age. And the higher I went, the better it felt. I acquired a very different vocabulary, compared to the other kids at school. My teachers started complimenting my writing skills and the way I could express myself. I was now suddenly asked to hold speeches and to participate in the Student Office organization. I've always been the youngest one to achieve things at school. That positive feedback made me confident and made me want to broaden my horizons. I started reading different topics, because I liked being able to be the kid that people could have _any_ kind of conversation with. I've attended dozens of free lectures, in different universities. Imagine a twelve-year-old, sitting next to a PhD graduate, listening to the same class and taking notes. It was cool, I had a lot of friends who were older than me. And all of that gave me the ability to adapt to new situations and to never feel alone. I could go anywhere in the world and, as long as I find something I like doing, I would also surround myself with new friends that I would meet thanks to this activity." Angie shrugged at the end.

All of this was so natural for her. It was how she saw life. It was life as she knew it. She never knew anything different.

But to Barbara, this all sounded like Angela was not a real human being. She thought those existed only in the movies. And even then, they were never as nice and chill, as Angie.

"But yes, she was a cheerleader, too. So, there it is, she's not perfect!" Bryan smirked, coming from behind the girls and startling them, while pointing out her sports background as a negative.

Barbara laughed. She hated cheerleaders so much.

"First of all, it is rude to eavesdrop!" Angie slapped Bryan's shoulder. It was their thing, although she was the one who did it more often. "Secondly, I'm an athlete. I went into cheerleading because, well, the outfits are cute. And I wanted to learn the flips and things. It taught me discipline, hard work and above all – team work and impeccable coordination skills. So yeah, I was a cheerleader. Proud to have been one." She smirked.

"Hey, hey, easy." Bryan threw his hands in the air in mock surrender. "I was just pointing it out. Plus, you know I love me a sexy cheerleader."

"Eww, gross." Angie made a disgusted face, wondering how many phone numbers must have been written down in Bryan's high-school black book.

"Hey, before you go…" Barbara walked to the back office and came back with something in her hand. "Someone left this here with a note, with your name on it. I guess it was my boss. He knows we still haven't paid you for your work all week, so consider this a pre-payment."

Angie nearly flipped with joy. It was a brand new, 50-piece booklet with food coupons. The good ones, too – the ones that would allow her to have a full meal, a drink and also a dessert. And Angie loved her desserts!

"Wow, that's so cool! Lunch is on me then." She smiled, waving the thing in the air as she invited both Bryan and Barbara to lunch.

"I can't. I'm finishing work in an hour and then I have to run do something. And I brought my lunch for today, so don't tell the boss, but I will be eating that while working on the computer now." Barbara said shyly.

"Don't look at me for an answer." Bryan shrugged when Angie gave him a look, as if to see if he'd accept. "I'm always hungry!" He added with a smile.

The two of them went to a restaurant nearby and got their food to go. They walked to the pond, the same one they had gone to their first week of the Academy, and sat down by the water.

The weather was nice, there was a breeze, but it wasn't too cold and it wasn't too warm either. It was just perfect.

She felt really good for being able to offer Bryan food and he had let her do so, as he felt so guilty for yelling at her a few days ago and dragging her to go eat, completely disregarding her wish to provide for herself, on her own.

They only had about half an hour to eat before they had to run for their afternoon class.

So far, Angie was feeling so much better. The morning had been really rough, but three coffees and one amazing lunch later she was feeling like herself again.

They walked in the auditorium and Dan was there. Angie put her water bottle on her desk, preventing any other confused Trainee to sit there, and she made her way to the back of the hall, as she wanted to greet one of the new people she had met lately. She walked by Jack and she pretended like he didn't even exist, even after a stupid remark that he threw her way. She simply walked by.

When the teacher walked in, everyone took their seats and Angie noticed how Dan was fiddling with something in his pocket and how awkwardly he left the room. Why did he even come? He didn't say a word to anyone. That looked suspicious and she kept in mind the new piece of information: she did not trust him. She liked him, but she did not trust him.

Through the class, she took some notes and she listened intently. It was about something that she wasn't really good at and she gave it her best, trying to learn as much as she could.

Halfway through the class, she suddenly felt like she was sweating. Looking around, she saw people who had thrown a little jacket or sweater on top of their uniform, so clearly it was not that hot in the room. And yet, she felt like she was on fire.

"Touch me." She leaned over and whispered to Bryan.

"My God, Angela. This is inappropriate. We're in class!" Bryan teased her.

Angie loved making inappropriate comments and so did Bryan. But all the other girls he had ever joked with, had taken offence. So now that he had finally found his match, he wasn't holding his tongue back with Angela.

"You idiot!" She hissed. "Check out my forehead!"

Bryan put his hand on her forehead and he gasped. "Dude, you're burning."

Angela sighed.

_"__Here we go again!" _ She thought to herself.

The next thing she felt was overwhelming nausea. She pushed people aside, as she stood up and made a run to the bathroom, not giving a crap that it looked like a scene out of a comic book. Everyone was being quiet and concentrated and then one crazy girl darted out of the room. The teacher looked at her empty seat and Bryan made a hand gesture to the man, as if he was telling him they would explain to him later.

Angie re-joined the class fifteen minutes later, once again as pale as chalk. It was making Bryan worried. She would either look and feel extremely good or extremely bad. There was no silver middle, for the past few days, and that was doubtfully a very healthy way to live.

The class finished and Angela walked to the teacher, excusing her sudden behavior and letting him know that she was sick. The man looked her up and down and let her know, in a very rude manner, that this was not kindergarten and she wasn't allowed to do as she pleased and that she should have asked permission first.

"Alright then, next time I'm about to throw up, I would raise my hand and wait patiently for you to notice me and give me the Go, so I can inform you that I have just thrown up on myself and the classmates that are near me. Because, if I was able to hold it, I wouldn't have ran out. So, now that this is clear, have a good day, Sir." She rolled her eyes and left the room, followed by Bryan.

Once again, a darker side of Angela Hunter came out to play - a little less nice, a little more direct, in a different way than the cute way she usually got away with things.

"Wow, you're nasty when you're sick." Bryan commented. "I love it!"

That made her laugh.

"I'm nasty when I'm sane, too. You just haven't seen _all_ of me yet." She said devilishly. "And before you point it out, No, I did not mean this in a sexual way. Eww."

"Damn, you shot down a good comment!" He frowned, as he was about to say something extremely inappropriate in regards to her previous statement.

"Something is going on…" Angie whispered.

Everyone was now walking around and, somewhere in the crowd, she spotted Dan again. This time he spoke to a different Trainee and they walked out together, followed by no one else but Jack.

Angela raised her eyebrows.

"Come on, you're just reading too much into everything. Didn't you tell me Dan came up to you the other night while you were reading? What if someone saw you two and thought something fishy was going on? See? He's human, he's our group mentor through this, so it's normal he'd talk to everyone."

"Oh, no. Trust me. I know a scheme when I see one. Something is definitely going on and I'd love to tell you all about it, but I'm about to be very busy right now…" With her last words, she put her hand to her mouth and ran to the bathroom again.

This time the girls' bathroom was full, as class had just finished, so Bryan was forced to wait for her outside.

"You need to see a doctor." He commented, the second she walked out.

"I don't trust anyone around here. So, if I see a doctor, it would be when we are allowed to go outside of the barricades." She said stubbornly.

"It's weird we're not allowed to go out. It's like we're prisoners here. I get that we can't travel to go home or visit friends, but not being able to even leave the FBI land, it's just weird." Bryan commented. He knew the rules and he was following them, but that didn't mean that he agreed with them.

"I find it pretty cool. Less distractions. More ground-time." She smirked. "Plus, nobody bans us from leaving for an hour or so. Or for a drink, in the evening. We just literally don't have the time, nor the strength to do so."

"I was going to offer drinks tonight, but since you're not feeling well, how about we go to your room and go through some notes and catch up with some reading?" He suggested.

"Aww, you know me so well, Bry-Bry!" She exclaimed, suddenly giving him a tight hug of appreciation.

"Bry-Bry? Okay, no. This nickname must be dropped. Now!"

"I like Bry-Bry!" She said stubbornly and he knew that he had to just shut up and embrace it, because she would obviously never let it go, now that she knew he disliked it so much.

"Fine then, GiGi." The least he could do was to come up with a nickname for her, as well.

"Oh, I quite like the sound of that!" Angela said cheerfully and it took all the power she had in her to start moving towards the dorm rooms.

They spent their Saturday evening studying and eating some sweet treats that he had bought for them from that cute pastry shop on campus, on their way to the dorms.

Angela was clearly feeling really sick and drained out of energy, but she pushed hard and she was determined to do all of her course work for the next day.

None of them could pinpoint the moment when they had dozed off – Angie on the sofa and Bryan sitting on the floor, with his back against the sofa, both surrounded by books, papers, highlighters and colored pens.


	29. Of All The Gin Joints

**CHAPTER 29**

_**OF ALL THE GIN JOINTS...**_

"Bonjour." Richard said quietly, when Emily opened her eyes, early on Friday morning.

"Okay." She replied lamely.

Emily was not a morning person. She was used to waking up early and getting things done. Sure. But she would never admit how much she hated the actual process of sticking her feet out from under the warm covers, putting them on the cold floor and forcing her ass up.

So, to say that Emily was unresponsive in the morning, would be an understatement.

"Do we have to leave the hotel quickly?" She asked, since the last time she had slept in, they got a very cordial reminder that they were late for check out.

"No, no. It's only nine." He laughed, straightening the blanket on top of him.

"Oh, you're pedantic, aren't you?" Being able to profile someone was the best reason for Emily Prentiss to want to get up from bed.

She sat up, with her back against the headboard, and she saw the crinkled part of the blanket on top of her body and the perfectly straightened one, on top of Richard.

"Control-powered. You hate when things don't go your way and it drives you insane seeing other people pull the strings. You have to always be in control, the one to call the shots. And when something goes wrong, a way to fix it must be found immediately, otherwise you get anxious and you start to lose yourself. You also don't do well working under people. I peg you as more of a freelance kind of guy. If someone had to give you orders, you wouldn't be able to cope with it. I mean, you're a tough guy, you'd figure out a way to get things done, but you would lose a vital part of yourself in the process and that would send you on a downward spiral until you are left with just an image of the old you when you look in the mirror, but a completely different soul inhabiting your body when you look inside. And you would hate that so much, that it would push you to do stupid things and that would get you into some very crappy situations that you will find yourself unable to get out of, later on. And worst of all – it wouldn't even be your fault. Because if you were the one in control, you would never let yourself sink so deeply." She smirked, knowing for a fact that every word hit the spot.

Richard could not recall a moment of his life when he had felt more uncomfortable. He looked down at the straightened white covers and his eyes started to play. While Emily spoke, he found himself watching a movie, projected on these covers. A movie that starred a guy, identical to him, but doing things he hated to do, being subordinate to someone more powerful than him and then, ultimately, ending up in that downward spiral, as Emily had predicted.

He gulped, shaking his head very lightly, wanting this annoying little film projection to stop.

"Well, I'm glad you said it wouldn't be _my_ fault." That was all he could say to her in reply to everything.

Did he just admit she was right about everything?

Emily smiled triumphantly.

"Oh, come on. I'm not judging you. As a matter of fact, everything I said about you applies perfectly about me, too." She said openly.

"Then why do you keep blaming yourself for everything?" Without much thought, Richard just shot those words at her and, with that, he re-gained dominance over the situation.

It was now _her_ turn to see her life, projected on those crumbled, imperfect sheets – an accurate representation of Emily Prentiss.

Mentally, she went through images of a lot of superiors – people who had called the shots for her. And then she saw herself obeying their every rule and request, until she found herself forced to call herself Lauren, Melissa, Olivia, Sandra, Emma, Natalia, Catherine…

And yet, none of those women were her. They were great versions of Emily, strong and powerful, but they were not _her_. Lauren never had Emily's heart. Lauren would never blame herself for anything and that was why Emily loved her so much - because Emily could never stop blaming herself for it all. Melissa had never cared about anyone. She would have never formed a single friendship, other than work, and her job had been strictly connected to a drug-dealing gang, all part of an undercover mission. And Catherine, well she had been the most flawed version of Emily. And yet, after all the horrible things Catherine had done, after all of her mistakes, she had never managed to overshadow Emily in that fight for the most vulnerable and screwed up version of Prentiss. Catherine had been Emily's worst nightmare, an alter-ego that she never wanted to hear of again.

"Well, I am awake now." She commented grumpily, hating the realization that she had to stop blaming herself for things that were not her fault. But that was easier said than done.

"I suppose today started on a sour note." Richard added.

"It most definitely did." She would be damned if she screwed up her last few days with him.

"How about we change that?" She leaned over and invited him in for a kiss.

It was an invite he accepted willingly.

He looked at his phone and frowned when his eyes read Friday on the screen. He knew that Lauren would turn back into a pumpkin on Sunday.

This was their own, sick and reversed version of Cinderella, where Lauren was the Cinderella and the clock was ticking before she would turn back into the sad version of herself, named Emily Prentiss, when the time came.

"Wait!" Richard pulled her back in for more, when she was pulling away, wanting to get up and get ready for the day.

She smiled against his lips.

Lauren would have found that annoying. Lauren would do what she wanted to do and would hate a man, pulling on her hand and telling her what _he_ wanted, instead.

Emily, well, Emily did not mind that, at least not at that very same moment in time.

"I really wish this could continue." She whispered after a long moment, pulling away for the second time and this time managing to get out of bed.

He knew that she wasn't referring to the kiss. It was more of a general observation.

After a shower, she was ready to go. While he showered, she jumped into her new dress from the day before and she put on some make-up. Felling cute and refreshed, she was determined to have the best weekend of her life.

Richard got out of the shower and she blushed, seeing him in nothing but the towel. Granted, it did cover more of him, than the underwear he had worn to the hot tub, but this was broad daylight and he was all wet, his hair disheveled and just, ugh, Emily was triggered.

"Plans for the day?" He asked.

"None!" She replied with a smirk.

No plans were the best plans for Emily Prentiss, while Lauren Reynolds had every second of her life, including the breaths that she took, counted, measured and timed out perfectly. She would have hated hanging out in Lyon with this man, if it weren't for his looks.

That morning, they decided to go down for breakfast, sitting by the outdoors pool. Everything was so peaceful and quiet. Emily realized that she needed to buy some beach bikini for her St. Tropez weekend and it got her a little more excited, as she loved going to the shops and Lyon had some good ones.

After breakfast, they took their luggage from the room and checked out. A guy drove Richard's car to the entrance and they hopped in.

"Can we go to the city center one more time?" She asked, sensing that Richard was about to hit the highway.

"Yes, Ma'am!" He said jokingly.

"Oh God, don't call me that." She winced, thinking of each time she had been forced to call her Section Chief _Madam_.

He made her a very happy girl by taking her straight to a shop that he knew for a fact she would appreciate. And, apparently, shopping for bathing suits was much more enjoyable for him.

Once again, he had his own little chair near the dressing room. Emily picked out 3 options that Emily would like and one that Lauren would _love_.

She put Lauren's favorite first and pulled the curtain just enough to be able to poke her head out.

"Okay, is it inappropriate to ask you to check out how this looks on me?" She blushed a bit.

Showing him dresses and clothes was one thing, but being half-naked, again, in a shop, was a whole different story.

"Yes…" He said teasingly. "Let me see." He then added, eagerly.

She pulled the curtain a bit more and he stood by her dressing room cabin.

"Hmm. That's just…" Richard was unsure what to say. The bathing suit was really good looking and it fit her perfectly. It was just that…

"It makes you seem a little desperate." He said, best describing his thoughts about it.

"Yeah, doesn't it? I mean, straps, more straps, this hole here, like why the Hell…and then more straps. It's cute, but _no_." She agreed with him, without taking any offense in his opinion. _Emily_ didn't, for the record. Lauren would have slapped him across the face if he dared call her desperate, even if that piece of clothing made her look exactly like that.

Now that Lauren's one option was out of the way, Emily was glad to be trying out things that _she_ would, personally, like.

Emily's first personal option hung a little too loose on her. She asked the sales assistant to get her one size smaller, but that just squeezed her butt and it did not look cute.

The second option was nice, but they only had a boring grey color in her size and she knew that, from a far, she would look butt-naked on the beach, if she wore that, considering her skin complexion. Not that anyone at the French Riviera would be scandalized – they were, in fact, famous for their nudist beaches and monokini culture.

The last option was what she was really hoping to like.

And she did.

Apparently, she was not the only one.

When she let Richard see her, she was holding the top piece against her chest and she casually asked him to tie it at the back.

Richard casually almost just died, doing so.

In the mirror, Emily could see a reflection of him, getting all sweaty and excited. She then decided to be bald and to pull him in the dressing room and to pull the curtains.

It took him less than a second to understand her advances. He was all over her like she was his favorite candy on a Christmas morning.

It wasn't until the sales assistant came over, three minutes later, asking if Emily liked anything, that they finally took their hands off of each other.

"Yes, it's fine. I chose the red one, I'm just getting some help with the ties." Emily called out, in perfect French, chuckling like a schoolgirl at prom.

The girl from the store smirked. She had seen couples shop for bathing suits and she wasn't oblivious as to what was really going on behind those curtains.

When they walked out of the store, Emily was holding her shopping bag proudly and they decided to go get another coffee and some snacks for the road.

"Oh, Jessica would love this!" Emily commented as she noted something on the window of a shop they were walking by.

"Your friend who set you up with the guy who got his face smashed by her husband after hitting on her all night long, and right before you went home with the bouncer? _That_ Jessica?" Richard laughed, wondering why did she even consider that girl to be her friend.

"Yeah, _that_ one." Emily smirked. Nobody would ever understand the complex love she had for JJ.

She entered the shop and bought the object, mentally preparing for JJ's squealing and screaming with joy when she would unwrap this gift.

On their way to the supermarket, Emily saw a book shop. Being the geek that she was, she just _had_ to walk in. Emily Prentiss could never deny two things: pastry and books. And, occasionally, hot men, as well.

"This place is amazing. Quite pricy, but so worth it. They sell limited edition books." Richard pointed at the book shop, after noticing Emily almost drooling as she checked out the window.

"Well, then this is my own version of Heaven." She stated, already walking over towards the entrance.

"Hey, how about I go grab the snacks and I'll meet you over there, at that small café just across the street? Take your time, don't rush it. I have to make a few phone calls anyway." He said with a soft smile.

Emily realized one thing – he always spoke in private. Yes, it was rude to talk on the phone when you were in company, but he always made it a point to be on his own when his phone rang, even if that meant dropping everything he was doing with her, so he could walk away and answer.

On one hand, this fact bothered her. It almost felt like he was trying to hide her from whoever else was in his life. But then again – it was work. He always said it was work-related calls, so what was the big deal if she overheard something? Was his job boring? Was that why he didn't want to ruin a special moment between them, by making her sit and listen through a boring conversation with his boss? And why did he seem so incredibly pissed off, each time she had seen him on the phone? Was his boss an ass? Did Richard hate his job? What the Hell was Richard's job anyway? Why was he so secretive about it?

Then again, putting herself in his shoes, Emily realized she would have probably acted the same way – secretive, pissed off, distant, if anyone from the BAU called her in regards to a case, while she was with him.

And then again, she actually _had_ something to hide. Something huge – a whole different identity.

What was Richard's excuse?

"Hey?" He nudged her lightly after she failed to reply.

She had gone through all of these questions, in her mind, spacing out on reality once again.

"Uh? Yeah. Yeah, sure, okay." She said awkwardly, opening the book shop door and quickly disappearing inside, before this situation would become even more weird.

Richard sighed, on his way to the supermarket across the street. He turned around and looked back, seeing a very happy Emily, through the windows of the book shop. She had gone straight to the shelves that interested her and she was now roaming through the books, trying to find the best one of them all. He allowed himself a whole minute, to just watch her, admiring the determination with which she grabbed each book and the precision with which she analyzed every word of the resume, on the back of it.

He then entered the supermarket and started choosing a few things from the shelves, making sure all were authentic French treats.

Half an hour later Emily was done choosing. She paid for two books – one for herself and one for Reid; before she walked out and let the sunshine hit her face one more time. There was something so calming about the French sunshine.

"Emily?" A deep, male voice made her jump in place.

Emily was _her_ name, a name that Richard was not supposed to know, a person that Richard should never knew the existence of.

But it wasn't Richard's voice that had called out that name…

Instinctively, Emily's right hand reached for her hips, where she usually had a belt hanging; realizing that she no longer had the gun holstered there. It was in her safety deposit box, at home, along with her FBI badge, her immunity and her real identity.

"Bonjour, c'est moi – Raphael!" The same voice introduced himself, now much closer to Emily.

She realized she had never turned around to check who that was. In a way, she did not want to know. If she was helpless and unable to fight back, what was the point in knowing _who_ had just busted her?

"Et moi, Timothée." Another male's voice added.

That's when it hit her – she knew these men.

She finally turned around and let out a sigh of relief.

"Bonjour, je suis ravi de vous revoir." Emily smiled weakly, looking across the street, making sure Richard was not nearby.

"Que fais-tu de retour à Lyon? Personne ne nous a dit que tous étiez de retour…êtes-tous à nouveau en mission?" Raphael asked, curious what Emily was doing back in Lyon, why had nobody told them she was back and if she was on an assignment, once again.

"Je suis ici pour affaires personnelles. personne ne sait que je suis en France." Emily smiled, now feeling a lot less tense to be herself, around those two. She told them she was in France for personal business and that nobody knew that she was there.

The guys finally took a step forward, now that she was a lot more calm and seemed a lot less eager to shoot them, and they gave her the usual French salute – kisses on the cheeks.

Emily now acted different. She was more serious, and yet, very calm and comfortable around the two men.

"That's too bad. We would have loved for you to bring Roxanne back for some fun." Timothée said in French, with a smirk.

Emily chuckled, remembering another alias of hers – Roxanne, or just Roxy. That had been her first alias at the Interpol, right after she joined them…and left the BAU. Roxy had been the closest way of allowing herself to keep a part of Rossi close to her heart. She had missed him the most, in the beginning. She no longer had _his_ head, to figuratively sit on _her_ shoulders, when her own head failed to do so. Roxy had kept her sane - each time she had heard someone call her by that name, she had closed her eyes and she had seen Rossi, smiling back at her. At times, she swore she had also been able to hear his voice, giving her advice, telling her how to proceed. Emily was quite fond of Roxy, she had played that character well, built her to be a strong, independent woman, for the short time she had been undercover as her.

"Oh, no. Roxy was okay, but my personal favorite was Jennifer. Now that one was just…wow!" Raphael said, also in French, laughing about all the memories he had with Jennifer.

Emily smiled, now remembering being a certain Jennifer for one of her assignments. Jennifer had been quiet, calm and collected, very smart, she had spoken in a very eloquent way and she had always been the voice of reason, within her team. It had been a team of four – Jennifer, Raphael's alias Ron, and two more Interpol guys. The assignment had taken place in Marseilles – one of the most crime-related French cities. Being a huge harbor city, it was also the focal point of most of France's import-export of illegal drugs.

Jennifer had been the innocent one, who had gotten sucked in this illegal scheme. She had been Ron's prisoner - a kidnapped woman who had been forced to assist with the import of huge amounts of cocaine. Ron's team, the other two guys, were keeping Jennifer's family – her husband and two young boys, as hostage, thus making her comply with all of their requests. Jennifer had to bow down to their demands and do illegal things, forge official documents and make sure everything with the delivery went smoothly…until one day the team had enough evidence to bust the rest of the gang – the real criminals, and to put them all in jail.

The day that everything blew up, was the day that innocent little Jennifer, the hostage, came out of her shell and kicked some criminal ass. She had kept her undercover brilliantly, for a whole month, acting like she was scared of Ron and his posse, until the moment that big import was happening. She remembered the cold breeze at the harbor, one late October evening. Jennifer had been freezing, with only a jumper on top of her shirt, but Emily Prentiss had felt the fire inside. Emily Prentiss had felt ready and warmed up for what was about to hit them. Emily Prentiss had let Jennifer explode, when the criminals had least expected her to. Jennifer had fought, initially with her bare hands, until Ron had tossed her a gun, allowing her to dominate just a little more. Jennifer had taken down two of the criminals, on her own, making sure they had been ready to be driven away as soon as those police cars had hit the scene. Jennifer had thought of her own two imaginary kids, with her imaginary husband back home, while Emily Prentiss had thought of her whole entire family back home – her BAU family…and a certain other woman, named Jennifer, who had inspired her and had given her the strength and courage to play that role brilliantly, for a month.

"I liked Penny, too. It sucks that our case got busted. Would have loved to see more of that crazy weirdo." Timothée pointed out, remembering yet another assignment with yet another alias of Emily's.

Penny, short from Penelope, but officially just Penny for the books, had been Emily's creative outlet. The case she had gotten assigned to had been _so_ dark and twisted and Emily had not felt too sure she would be able to go through with what she had to do. So, she had named herself Penny, mentally giving herself a colorful meaning of her new identity, one that would make her smile, on the inside, while holding a gun and shooting three criminals dead, when she had gotten busted.

Six days. That was how long bubbly Penny had lasted before the Interpol had pulled her out of the equation and let another person take her place. Emily had been too emotionally unstable to continue, after killing three people in the span of five minutes. All perfectly regulated and later on excused kills, but _kills_ nonetheless. Those three were going to reveal her identity to the rest of their gang-friends and then Emily would be toast. She had to fight for her life and when her fists had failed to help her, she had no other choice but to seek help from her best friend – her gun.

Two more days into the assignment, two days after Penny had been pulled out and replaced by a man, things had gone wrong. The new man's undercover had gotten blown immediately and he had found himself surrounded by the lawful friends and members of the same gang, as the three men Penny had just killed. That man had gotten shredded to pieces, in a brutal manner, having no back up and no way out.

Penny had tried really hard to forget that, to forget the moment when she had gotten that phone call, informing her of the discovery of her colleague's lifeless body.

Emily Prentiss, however, never tried to forget. She did not _want_ to forget. That specific memory went straight to her long list of things she'd blame herself for, even through the years to come. In her own twisted mind, Emily blamed herself for being weak enough to get herself pulled out. Had she been better, this man would have never taken her place. He would have never suffered a faith as brutal and unfair as the one that had hit him.

Penny had been created to allow Emily to stay sane during the assignment, but she had failed to do so. At times, during her six days undercover, Emily would close her eyes and remember a joke that Penelope, her unicorn BAU colleague, had once said. She would smile to herself, but that had made her weak…weak enough to show emotion and to get herself rescued by the Interpol before she'd blow her cover with the rest of the gang, as well.

"Guys, I no longer do that stuff…" Emily replied, speaking quickly, in fluent French, as if she had lived there her whole life.

The conversation then took a personal turn, each one of the three shared what they had been up to, with Emily only mentioning she now had a new job and she loved her friends. Raphael had gotten married since they had last seen each other and he showed Emily pictures of his wife and his adorable two year old son.

During the whole interaction with those two men, none of them had ever mentioned the Interpol or undercover agents or the FBI. They had been trained not to speak about that in public and they knew how to talk in code. The guys had mentioned Emily having different names, but no other information had come out of their mouths. If anyone was listening to their conversation, it could have been interpreted in many ways. Emily could have been an actress, back in the days. That surely would fit well with what they were saying about her names and characters.

For the next five minutes, there was a mess of three voices, talking loudly and laughing, speaking fast and only ever in French. None of them uttered a word in English. Emily was surprisingly good at and fluent in French. With Richard, she had let slip that she knew French, but each time she had spoken to him in his own native language, she had spoken slowly, as if she wasn't sure, or fluent enough. But with those two, she was shooting words, sentences, jokes and typical French phrases, showing an impressive familiarity with the country and its language.

Emily also seemed like _Emily_. Not like the Emily that was trying so hard to be Lauren again.

"Want to go grab some coffee?" Raphael suggested, being the one who had more confidence with her, as they had spent more time working together.

"Thank you, but I can't. I'm here with, uhm, someone. And uh, I kind of have to go now…" Emily realized that she was taking a bit too long to join Richard at the café across the street, but then, shooting a glance over to the café, she did not see him anywhere. He wasn't inside, on the counter, and he wasn't sitting outside. There were two elderly women on one of the tables, and a family of three, on the other table. Everything else was empty.

So, where was Richard?

He would have hardly spent forty minutes at a supermarket…

* * *

After ten minutes of choosing and twelve more minutes of waiting in line, to pay, Richard walked out of the supermarket with a bag, full of snacks. He had thrown in a few pieces of fruit, just because Emily seemed to be the type of person, judging by her body, to be eating healthy.

Wrong.

If only he knew how the real Emily Prentiss would eagerly accompany her wine with seven donuts and feel absolutely no remorse about it, he'd be surprised.

He glanced over to the café and did not find her there. A family of three was sitting outside, the mother helping the child eat his piece of cake while the father was taking photos of them. A minute later, two elderly women walked over and sat on one of the many free tables outside, as well. And then there was nobody else around, surely Emily was not there.

So, Richard decided to go get her from the book shop. However, seeing her still choosing books from the shelves, with that smile on her face and oblivious to the fact that he was watching her through the window, he could not bring himself to put a stop to her happiness. She seemed in her element. He would have never pegged her for such a book geek, but apparently, there was more to that Lauren woman than she was telling him.

He walked over to one of the souvenir shops, right next to the book shop where Emily was still in awe at. He found so many colorful dangling things, from key chains to umbrellas, to pencil cases – all with images of Lyon plastered on them. It was almost giving him a headache to look at all these colors and objects, but this was the perfect place where he could wait for Emily to leave the book shop at. He had a lot of distractions, to keep him busy, plus he had a view of the bookshop door, so he'd know when Emily would walk out and he'd go join her for the coffee.

However, now checking out the hundreds of postcards, hanging on the stand outside, right next to the bookshop door, he missed the moment when Emily walked out. He only looked her way when he heard some guy call out the name _Emily_. Richard's eyes darted towards that door in less than half a second. He saw Lauren, touching her hips, as if she was searching for something, and then frowning when she did not find it. She did not turn around, but he saw her shiver, almost jump in place as she heard that name and then she was immobile for a long moment, before the two men behind her introduced themselves.

They were both French and they started speaking about other people, or _names_, really. Lauren had given them both kisses on the cheeks and she had relaxed in their presence, now that she was facing them. Did she know them?

As the conversation unraveled, Richard heard her speak rapid, fluent French, and he saw a different side of her – one that she hadn't dared to show him. Or one that she simply didn't want him to know about.

Everything happened so fast that, by the time he realized he should not be eavesdropping at all, he also realized he was standing five feet away from them, hidden behind a huge stand of colorful postcards. That surely looked like he had been stalking her, when in reality, those were not his intentions at all. That would freak Lauren out, so he made the decision of exiting the souvenir shop from the rear door, as it was situated at the corner of the building, and walking down the street, very casually, until he'd randomly bump into Lauren, giving her enough time to see him, approaching, and to change topic, if she wanted to.

As for Richard, he would ignore the fact that he overheard a personal conversation and he would never speak of it, with Lauren.

* * *

Emily was in her middle of a joke when she saw a familiar figure, turning the corner. A male figure was now walking towards where she and her two ex-colleagues were standing.

"Uhm…" Emily shrugged, making a small gesture to the two men, as if to urge them to stop talking.

Both of them understood her and they looked in direction to where Emily was looking, now with a smile on her face, back to her Lauren ways of lies and deceit.

"Wait…you're here with _him_?" Raphael gasped, placing the pieces of the puzzle together.

Richard was slowly walking towards them, while Emily had requested silence from her Interpol friends. She smiled at the man, as if she was the most innocent woman in the world.

Something about the way Raphael said _him_ bothered Emily. Unluckily for her, Richard was now too close to them, so she was unable to ask Raphael to elaborate on that. And that gasp?

Timothée gave Raphael a look and they both seemed ill-at-ease.

"Je suis désolé, je ne sais pas où vous pouvez trouver un magasin de guitare. Au revoir." Emily said to the two men, when Richard was close enough to be able to overhear.

If asked about them, she now had the perfect excuse, as she just told them she was sorry, but she did not know where they could find a guitar shop, as if _that_ was what they had been talking about. As if they were strangers to her. As if she was Lauren again.

Both of them nodded at Richard, in a weird way saluting him, before they literally disappeared, without even greeting Emily or saying another word to her.

"Hello, Lauren." Richard said softly, reaching out for her hand.

Those exact words made her blood freeze. It was exactly what Ian Doyle had once said to her, before he branded her, as if she was an object, as if she belonged to him. As if she had no worth at all.

As soon as Richard held her hand, she made it a point to slip away. Hearing those words, that name, coming from his mouth, sounded so wrong. It did not go unnoticed by him, but he did not question it. He already knew that Lauren was into playing games, so he'd let her win this round.

But, was she, ultimately, going to win the game?

"I got two books…" She masked up by now starting to rant about her books and the fact that one of them was a present for a very smart young man she knew back home.

She went on and on about books, as they walked over to the café and Richard let her speak. He let her have it, if that was what she wanted.

He was awfully quiet, which did not go unnoticed by Emily, as well. That was the mere reason she went on this long rant, wanting to seem normal and bubbly again. She also needed to busy her mind with something, so she wouldn't overthink the way her two friends had acted around Richard. She did not want to think about that at all. She'd be happy to forget that ever happened, because somehow it did not fit into her fairy tale. And Emily Prentiss was not about to let _anything_ ruin her fairy tale even if she wasn't even herself, in it.

"You are mesmerizing…" He uttered, after being zoned out for a total of two minutes, while she had ranted about books and donuts.

"Huh?" She was caught off guard.

How did the topic change so fast?

Richard pulled his chair closer to hers and he reached out to hold her.

Instinctively, she leaned in and felt no fear at all. His hands felt familiar, she had already gotten used to his touch, so much that when they were apart, she missed him. He was right there, in front of her, and she missed him already. She wanted him to hold her, if possible, forever. But neither Lauren nor Emily were good at promises that involved 'forever'. Neither of them was sure how long their 'forever' would last for, so, how were they supposed to genuinely promise it to anyone?

And yet, she wanted a forever. With him. In those hands. Kissing those lips. Seeing that smile, his face… Hearing his voice, that thick French accent that made her knees go weak, as if she was a teenager again.

"You make me feel safe…" She whispered quietly.

"Awwwh!" They overheard the elderly women near their table, sighing in appreciation of the beautiful scene they were now witnessing.

Emily chuckled. When had she ever been such a snugly lovebird? So intimate, in public? So…happy? So normal?

"Good. That's what I'm supposed to do…" Richard said, a little less cheerfully.

He then sighed, kissing the top of her head in the most genuine and sweet kind of way. She smelled fresh, like that tiny shampoo she had bought a few days ago. Her hair was so silky and shiny, so healthy looking, quite like Emily herself. He just wished she would let herself shine, too. She deserved it.

Emily's eyes were closed. She let herself soak it in. All of it. The scent of his eau de cologne tickled her nose, now that it was resting on his shoulder. The warmth of his hands, resting on her back, gave her a beautiful sensation, one she had not felt before. Everything seemed so easy with him, so real, so beautiful. This was most definitely a fairy tale. Emily Prentiss was just dreaming. This was not real life and she was not her real self, she was sure of it. None of it could be true. None of it was what she had ever imagined might happen to her.

And yet, none of it felt forced. None of it felt rushed, even if it most definitely _was_ rushed. None of those feelings she was suddenly overwhelmed with, were supposed to surface, just days after she had met him. None of it was something she could deny herself. She could not bring herself to put an end to this…to it…to _them_.

"Woah, hello heartbeat…" Richard chuckled, feeling Emily's chest, pressed against his own. It felt like it was about to explode, the way her heart was rebelling.

"Well, hello _you_…" She pulled back a little, just to be able to let her lips linger against his.

She did not kiss him.

He did not kiss her.

It was just a moment, a brief one, where they allowed themselves to be young again, to feel the warmth of their lips, against each other, but without giving into the temptation.

If this woman was able to resist _this_ temptation, then God knows how incredible she'd be in bed. Oh, all the games Richard could play with her, tease her, deny her, then comply with her wishes before teasing her mercilessly again. She'd love it. She would surely love it all. She'd be insatiable, he was sure of that.

He gulped, shaking those thoughts away. He was already feeling some type of way, he did not need _those_ thoughts to make it even harder for him. No pun intended…

Emily was now overwhelmed with different thoughts. In her mind, she started making some Reid-like complicated calculations, until she was able to fit a few puzzle pieces of her life perfectly together.

Well, _almost_ perfectly.

She felt an undeniable urge to sort her life out, right then, right there. She – Emily Prentiss, was now obsessively trying to fit her newly acquired feelings, as Lauren, into the world and into the future of Emily Prentiss.

"A quoi penses-tu?" He asked her, curious to know what she was thinking about.

"Nous…" She whispered, bringing her own hands to hug him, admitting that she was thinking about _them_.

It was a bit uncomfortable, as they were both sitting on bamboo chairs, next to each other, while Emily sat sideways, allowing him to embrace her for so long. Her muscles were starting to hurt, but she would rather stick through the physical pain, than the pain of losing him, his touch, his warmth…their closure. Them.

And now, trying to hug him, she was facing another obstacle – sitting sideways it only meant that she was bound to find her ass on the ground, if she moved another inch.

With one swift motion, Richard picked her up and let her sit on his lap before embracing her again. This time it was easier for her to do the same, and yet, her hands were not long enough to hold him, all of him. He was quite well-built and she found it impossible to close her hands, behind his back. But it was okay, she gladly let her palms rest on his back, with her fingers gently pressing against it.

Richard could not help but frown. He had once had a woman he had been crazy about – the love of his life. They had gotten married, they had made plans for the future and they had been happy…until life had separated them. But still, he had felt this kind of love, the one that consumed someone, the one that made people hold each other, just like they were, at that moment.

But what about Emily? Or rather – Lauren? She was holding onto him like she had never had this in her life. Love. Intimacy. Future…

Had she ever let herself cry, break down, show emotions, in front of any other man?

Was he the first one?

She had spoken about straddling many men in her life, which Richard had interpreted way different than what Emily had meant, but did it mean she had never found the one? Had it only been exploring? Searching? Failing and then starting the search all over again?

What was so special about him? He kept asking himself that question, over and over again, while still feeling her fastened heartbeat against his own chest. It felt good. Their hearts almost beat in rhythm, in sync, just like their lips always functioned, when they kissed…and their hands, when they touched each other.

Emily, on the other hand, kept calculating. Her eyes were tightly squeezed as she tried desperately to morph Lauren into Emily and then introduce Richard into Emily's world.

Little that she knew, she had already been doing just that, for a while now…

She then came to the conclusion that – yes, Richard was most definitely and without a hint of doubt, the first man she felt so strongly about. Why? The answer to that question only took her seconds – he was real. He was being honest with her and he had shown her all of his colors, his flaws, he had spoken about his past relationships openly and he had never acted like he was a good guy. On the contrary – he had already stated that he was a horrible person. And _that_ was what made him human, in her eyes. The flaws, the ease with which he had accepted the fact that nobody was perfect. He seemed sure of himself, happy with who he was and, most importantly – happy to be with her, whoever the Hell she might be.

"I have to tell you something…" Emily said weakly, once again letting her lips linger against his.

This time, he kissed her. Slowly, passionately, softly…

"Je m'en fiche." He murmured against his lips, letting her know, in street French, that he did not care, before kissing her again and again.

"But I…Oh, mmhhh, okay…yeah, mhh…" She tried to speak up again, but he knew exactly how to make her shut up.

"Nothing you say to me could _ever_ change the way I feel about you…" He said, at the end of the kiss, holding her face in his hands and allowing her to have a good look at his face, as he spoke.

And he was genuine. Emily was incredibly good at sensing bluff, at pointing out a lie. She would have known. She would have _surely_ known if he was playing her. He might have been able to fool Lauren, but Emily Prentiss was a warrior. She was a survivor, she _had_ to be. After years of pretending, she had mastered the art of deceit, both in the sense of being the deceiving one and also being the one to sense deceit that was intended to fool her.

And Richard was not lying. There was no chance in Hell someone would be able to fake the feelings that he was communicating to her, non-verbally. Emily was sure of that. She would bet all those years of studying human behavior, on the fact that he was being real.

They later drank their coffee, already cold, before it was time for them to hit the road again. They didn't make any more stops and so they managed to arrive at St. Tropez before dinner time.

It was still sunny and hot outside and Emily was enjoying every second of it. She had been there just once before, as Lauren, and it had to do with work, so she considered this to be her first official visit of this beautiful place, unlike Lyon, where she had lived for a few months. Finally, some place new to experience with Richard.

They spent their first two hours just wandering around, discovering cool places and Emily could not stop picking out little things to buy for her friends back home. It made Richard both happy and sad.

Happy, because it confirmed that Emily was a great person who had great friends whom she would do anything for.

Sad, because he only had two more days left with her before she would go back to her life, her friends and her job. Without him.

* * *

"FBI, DON'T MOVE!" Angie called out, right before she opened her eyes in the morning.

"Jesus, calm down and wait a few more months before you get to actually yell that at people. Let alone at 5:34 on a Sunday morning." Bryan sounded pissed. He hated waking up abruptly.

"Oh, I guess my dream got me a little too excited." She shifted uncomfortably, removing a pen from under her butt cheek. Sleeping on the couch after a long study session was hardly a good idea. She felt rough, tired and surrounded by way too many random objects.

"We're finally getting our new weekly schedule today. Are you excited?" He asked while rubbing his eyes lazily and trying to overcome the sore feeling of literally every single bone of his body. He had spent the night on the floor, surrounded by cushions, but none of them was actually underneath him, so his muscles were aching as if he were an old man.

"Yes and no. I mean, new schedule - cool. But don't you remember how we were promised a big cut on the first week of the Academy? Well, that never happened then and it's now the end of the second week, so I can only imagine they are going to kick even more people out today." She rolled her eyes.

She knew she was fit to be there and she deserved her spot, but she wasn't sure everyone else knew that. Teachers seemed to suddenly dislike her, she was being given harsh criticism by literally everyone and, to top it all, she had spent the majority of her week in between throwing up and pushing herself to work hard, the point of throwing up again. So, her spot there was feeling a little secure at that moment.

"Come on, we did a great job studying last night. We'll smash this test!" He said, raising his hands in the air, like a winner.

"Damn, are you sure _I'm_ the cheerleader here?" She teased him before she walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

He could tell that she was going to be sick, but there wasn't much he could do once he heard her lock herself inside.

Angie tried to mask it up by running the water in the shower, but he knew.

She then took a quick shower and after brushing her teeth three times, she felt a little more ready go to.

"Grab a towel from over there and go." Angie pointed to where the fresh towels were. "Come on. You practically live with me and you've never taken a shower here. Just go. After the cuts, if we both make it, you're moving in. Like, officially. We're dragging your stuff over here and you're sleeping in Amanda's bed. Hope that's a little less weird, now that she is almost alive again. Or un-dead? Whatever you want to call it."

Bryan gave her a look and grabbed a towel. She was right - he was there all the time and it felt more like home than his own dorm with Jack, whom he hadn't even talked to in days.

"I like _almost alive_ better." He smirked while taking his shirt off. "Plus, I'm curious to continue our little investigation. If we both make the cuts, we are _so_ digging into this mystery."

Angie praised the Lords. Bryan was finally starting to be fun and adventurous. She knew that day would come. She had been waiting for it way too patiently.

"It's a promise!" She nodded in his direction and then noticed him tugging on his jeans.

"Oh, no. You do that in the comfort of my bathroom, you know, the one with four walls and a door that closes and divides the space between a fully clothed _me_ and an almost naked _you_. Now go do that there. Thank you!" She cringed and it was the second time Bryan noticed her being a little awkward when he was getting undressed.

Truthfully, he was only tugging on his jeans, to unblock the damned zipper that would always block and would refuse to come down. He wasn't actually going to take them off in front of her.

And even if he did, why would she be so scandalized about it? They had made it obvious they were only friends. Plus, she never had any problem undressing in front of others, including him. So, now that tables were turned, why was she acting like a prude?

He walked to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower, allowing his muscles to feel alive again, before he changed into his trainee uniform and they were ready to go.

He noticed Angie had put on some light make-up, as she always did in the morning, and he found her fiddling with a few colorful bows that she had neatly organized in a small box.

"May I?" He asked and she moved aside.

"I like this one." He picked out one of the bows and it had two small ribbons that fell down from it.

"Oh, that is one of my favorites!" She squealed, although those were words she would say about literally every single one of her bows. She loved them all equally.

She turned around and combed her hair, making a small fish-tail in the back. Bryan then put the bow in and locked it in place with a few bobby pins, making sure it wouldn't fly off during PFT.

To their dismay, once they arrived at the outdoors training area half an hour later, PFT turned out to be cancelled. Instead, there were a bunch of their instructors, just standing in a row and looking at them.

"Crap! It's the cuts!" Angie bit her bottom lip and felt scared, like she had never felt before.

Bryan's response was to just stick his hand out and grab hers, enwrapping her small fingers in the palm of his hand and squeezing them tightly. As far as he was concerned, one would be crazy to cut Angela from the Academy.

The Trainees lined up, mimicking the line that their teachers had previously formed. At 6:30 in the morning, that was what they found suitable, since nobody said a single word.

Each teacher was eyeing different trainees, some with approval, some with disapproval. Dan was taking notes and then comparing a them with a previously printed out paper file, ticking stuff and crossing out other stuff. That stuff, presumably, being a list of Trainee names.

Angie inhaled sharply, realizing that each teacher had spent time, eyeing her up and down. She had always felt confident in herself and her abilities, but screw that - at that very moment, all she felt was goosebumps. And it sucked.

Bryan, on the other hand, held himself to the standards. His head was held high, chin up, perfect posture, a content half-smile on his face. How the heck was he so good at this?

"Breathe." He reminded her quietly when he realized it had been a while since he heard her breathe in. And it was audible, she almost sounded like a newborn child, taking a soundly breath. It was cute.

She smiled, realizing that through all of this stress, which had only lasted for a couple of minutes so far, but had felt like an eternity for the trainees; he had never let go of her hand.

"Together." She muttered.

"Until the end!" He reassured her in a whisper and it was enough to make her stand up straight and put her poker face on as well.

Dan walked up and down the line up of Trainees, whispering something to a few of them.

He said nothing to Angie and Bryan and he just kept on walking further away from them.

The teachers then proceeded in either ticking or crossing out stuff on papers that looked quite similar to Dan's list from earlier.

And then they just left.

Without a word, all the teachers just walked away and left their papers, facing down, on a small table that was on the side of the running track.

"What the fu-..." Angie muttered, but Bryan nudged her before she could finish that sentence.

Dan picked up all the papers and then waved at the Trainees and left, as well.

"What the fuck!?" Bryan said out loud and it made Angie frown.

"Hey, that was _my_ line!" She argued, with her hands folded against her chest.

Trainees then started walking around the training field, wondering if they were supposed to train on their own, since there was no one else to follow their progress this morning.

"Push-ups?" Bryan suggested, already knowing that there was no way Angie would want to go relax, now that their training was half-suspended. What if it were a test to see which ones would follow their weekly schedule on their own and which ones would go do just about anything other than train?

"Pull ups!" She smirked, wanting to get better at those, instead.

When they started their little session, Bryan commented on her improved grip and on the invidious upper body strength she had acquired after having trained so hard lately.

It gave Angie the confidence boost she needed. She pushed hard, with each pull up she felt her nausea increasing, but that was not going to stop her. She did as many as she could, before Bryan suggested to go for a run.

They ran slowly, going round the main FBI building, as Angie wanted to know every corner of that place. Then they found themselves nearing the food court, as it was time for their lunch break.

"Don't you have your Ballistics job today?" Bryan asked.

"No, the guy told me that nobody is in on Sundays, so he asked me to go on any other day, but a Sunday. That's why I had to pick up the extra shift yesterday." She said while walking in circles around a table, outside one of the little food bars. It looked like she was such a weirdo.

"What? You know you can't just stop and stay immobile after running, right? You have to slow your heartbeat down first." She commented and he knew that, of course, but it was nice to hear that she knew how to take care of her health after physical training. Sometimes he thought she was just going on auto pilot and he wasn't sure if she knew how to stop.

"Are you going to continue working, now that you have all these coupons from the library?" This question had been bothering him since she had received them yesterday.

"Yes. I like the jobs and I get to go places that are above my Trainee clearance. Plus, those were a pre-payment, meaning that I have to still keep working, so I'd deserve them." She explained and it did not surprise him to hear that.

"Do you think that this morning was the final evaluations before the cut?" He asked, just to change the topic.

"No, I think they were just trying to spook us out. And damn, it worked." She rolled her eyes, hating that she was almost admitting defeat against the very people who had been nothing but rude and intimidating to her lately. Her very own version of high-school bullies.

"The day is not over yet. You never know what they have in store for us. It seemed like each teacher was choosing their least favorites. My bet is that now Dan is somewhere, hidden in a dimly lit office, smoking an electronic cigarette and enjoying having to cross us out, one by one." Bryan's words instantly put Angie back in a bad mood.

"Shut up or I'm going to slap you so soundly that they would ring the siren they use for national crisis situations!" She said, but it only made him laugh.

He was a tall guy. A big guy. With muscles.

She was a slim girl. With a bow in her hair.

Each time she had threatened him, he had found it so hard to take her seriously, but he never had the heart, or the courage, to let her know.

Angie simply walked into the restaurant and started choosing her food, consoling herself with the thought that she was doing her absolute best and that, if they still cut her, it would be _their_ freaking loss. And she would definitely be going after them, making their lives miserable.

Bryan finally got some steak and fries, with a salad as a side. Angie treated herself with a lasagna, because if this was her last day on the Holy FBI grounds, she would go out with a bang, eating her favorite dish. She also got a salad and she was sure that she would later get away with stealing a few fries from Bryan's plate.

For dessert she got a Tiramisu and a huge piece of triple chocolate cake. Because, why not?

Bryan got fruit, because even if he was absolutely calm on the outside, on the inside he was dying a little bit, from all the anxiety.

"How are you so damn calm?" She asked, accusingly, while licking the last bits of cake off her fork.

"SWAT, baby!" He said proudly.

Bryan was proud of being an ex-SWAT member. It had changed his life forever. He used to hate who he was in high-school, but SWAT taught him everything he now knew, it turned him into a version of himself that he was proud of and that people were proud to be around. It also taught him how to put a poker face on while shitting his pants very discretely.

"Ah, yeah, I keep forgetting you were David." Angie rolled her eyes, saying it as if it were not important at all. Also, as if David was his old name.

Bryan sighed. One day he would steal all of her colorful pens and draw her a very intricate diagram, explaining how the different positions in SWAT work. However, that would confuse her even more.

Angie gasped when the door of the restaurant opened and she saw the people who walked in. She could care less about the others, but the one who walked ahead of them, was the one she had to keep an eye on.

"Of all the gin joints..." She muttered.

"Oh, I just fell in love with you a little more. If that is even possible." Bryan commented.

"Why? Because you like my random bitching?" She said with a smile.

"No. Because any girl who quotes Casablanca is a girl who has a place in my heart." He replied while finishing up his own dessert, the fruit.

The waitress came by and grabbed a few empty plates from their table, bringing them back to the kitchen, but not before eyeing Bryan up and down.

In turn, he did the same. The girl was attractive and her waitress uniform fit her so damn well. Especially from the back.

"I'm surprised you even _know_ about Casablanca. I'd peg you for more of a Casanova guy." She rolled her eyes at his lame attempt to look casual while checking this girl out.

"What? I'm a dude." His words earned him an icy glare from Angela, who hated it when men objectified women and then blamed it on being _just guys_.

"I hate you so much right now that I almost want to wish you to fail the damned exam later." She stuck her tongue at him.

"What did they say it would be on?" He asked, unable to recall the exact words of their training teacher.

"Everything. Basically. All of it." Angie didn't seem worried about that, at all.

"How come they only told us yesterday? I mean, we could have had more time to prepare." Bryan whined a little bit, because it seemed unfair to him.

"Hello? It's the FBI! You won't get a heads up, _ever_." Angie put the fork down. She had been subconsciously swaying it in the air, as if it were a sword, ever since she saw Dan and a group of their teachers walk in.

Dan kept on giving her looks and she hated it. It bothered her so much. He had chosen a table near them, just so he could keep on looking at her.

"Why is he being a dick to you?" Bryan finally commented. He had noticed Dan's looks towards Angie since he saw him walking in.

"Did you just notice that _today_?" Angie rolled her eyes one more time.

"Not really. Everyone is being rude to us, but especially to _you_. Even the people who were nice to us those first few days of the Academy. Like Jack, for example. And all the teachers we had in the beginning. Suddenly, everyone started being weird. Maybe you're right and this is a part of a huge conspiracy theory." He laughed, since he was only joking. But Angie had a theory of her own and she wouldn't rest until she proved or disproved it successfully.

The waitress came by to grab the rest of the empty dishes and glasses from their table...and to flirt with Bryan one more time. She asked them if they wanted to order something else.

"No, thank you." It hurt Bryan to pronounce those words, as he would have enjoyed a few more minutes of this girl's company, but he just wanted to get away from Dan.

"Actually. We'll have another piece of cake, to share. And then also two coffees - one black and one with chocolate and mini marshmallows on top. Thank you. Oh and I guess he'll also have your phone number, I guess." She added with a smirk.

Bryan wanted to kill her at that very moment. Yes, he'd like those digits, but not before he saw Angie suffer for having just said that.

The waitress became red like a tomato and she disappeared. When she came by their table again, she placed their desert and coffees in front of them and, very shyly, put a piece of paper in front of Bryan, before she disappeared again and they never saw her walk around the restaurant anymore.

"Damn girl, you are one mean wing-woman." Bryan gave her a high-five, suddenly appreciating Angie's ways.

"Are you going to call her?" She asked curiously, taking a sip of her coffee.

"I don't know..." Bryan shrugged.

"Dude, you kind of have to!" She said casually while taking a piece of the cake with her fork.

"I mean, she's really cute. I bet the old Bryan would have loved the idea of taking her out on a date, or on a ride..." He trailed off.

"But the new Bryan has some reservations?" She assumed.

"Yeah. I'm not sure who the new Bryan is anymore. Or what he wants. Or what he stands for..." He trailed off again. Twice in two consecutive sentences. That was a sign that he was not the secure guy she had gotten to know.

"Well, if one day you feel like sharing your daemons, I'm here to listen, while I get you drunk." She offered him a small smile.

Bryan really liked the way that Angela always put people at ease. She knew _when_ to speak and _what_ to say, and she was damn good at giving an emotional speech, like she had done the previous day at the library, with Barbara. She was also really good at saying the best thing, with the least amount of words, which was what she just did with him at that very moment. Overall, Angie knew how to read people and to assess situations extremely well.

"But for now, how about we give this dude a show?" Angie raised her eyebrow.

If Dan thought it was okay to just walk in and intimidate Angela while she was eating, he was sadly mistaken. Nobody stood between Angela Hunter and food. As slim as she was, food was a very important part of her life. Especially sweets. So, to have someone mess with her while she enjoyed her cake, was just out of question.

She turned her seat sideways, so she could now be facing Dan perfectly. He couldn't hear her words, being a few tables away, but that piercing gaze of hers was saying enough.

Her eyes narrowed and she studied him. At first, Dan did not care. He simply thought this girl was acting out and trying not to show him how freaked out she was by him.

But after two whole minutes that Angela, and now Bryan too, were staring at him without moving a muscle, Dan gulped. Suddenly, his tie felt a little too tight and the air around him felt a little stuffy.

In her eyes he could see something intimidating. He knew her as a smiling young one, but those eyes, that stare, was showing him a whole new side of Angela. A side he never thought she possessed. A side that felt possessed, in a way.

As Dan swept some sweat off his forehead, Angie finally moved, just enough to smirk triumphantly. Her eyes never left their aim and she was now slowly feeding herself bits of cake, while sipping on her coffee and staring at him, with a certain determination in her eyes.

It didn't take Dan more than five minutes to finally excuse himself from the company of his colleagues and to walk out. He hated being observed, but something about Angela's stare was different. It was fierce. She almost looked…scary. He knew how stupid it was to be feeling this way, but he simply could not help it.

He had seen killers with a piercing gaze. He had seen prisoners with a gaze that simply said they do not care what happens to them, making him sure of the fact that they'd snap his neck in a second, without giving it much thought. He had seen sorrow and pain in the victim's eyes. He had seen hope in the victims' friends and family eyes.

But what he saw in Angela's eyes now was new. It was different, and yet, it was a mixture of all of the above.

That girl was something else.


	30. Not A Suspect - An Accomplice!

** CHAPTER 30**

_**NOT A SUSPECT. AN ACCOMPLICE!**_

_"__IT'S OVER!"_

A text – Simple, short and easily comprehensible.

_"__Garcia, it's 6 o'clock on a damned Sunday morning!"_ Luke replied to the conversation starter, sent to the group chat by no one else but Miss Penelope.

_"__I know, but I've been waiting for Sunday to come and now it's finally here and I couldn't just keep all this happiness to myself. I had to share it with everyone!" _It took Garcia three seconds and a half to type this whole phrase.

_"__Guys, I hate you!"_ JJ chimed in. She was not a morning person, not even after having two young kids. Mornings were not her thing. At all.

_"__I actually find that refreshing. Good morning, team!"_ Rossi typed, even using a smiley emoji after his text.

_"__Do you think she will contact us?"_ Garcia asked curiously.

_"__No. Come on, you know how Prentiss is. She'll roll up to the meeting room tomorrow morning and pretend like nothing has happened."_ Rossi replied.

_"__Uhm, Dave, you do realize Emily is not replying, but she's still a member of this group chat, right? She'd be reading all of that, eventually."_ JJ reminded him, in case he might regret his words later on.

_"__Yes. And good. She should!"_ Rossi never had a short fuse, especially when it came to Emily, but this situation was getting on his nerves.

_"__Hey. How's everyone?"_ Tara had tried to ignore the beeping of her phone, but she finally gave up and opened her eyes, enough to be able to see what she was typing on the screen.

_"__Bored. Having a week off sucks!"_ Reid finally gave in and joined the chat as well.

_"__Hey, speak for yourself, Smart Boy!"_ Luke grimaced while typing. The timing of this free week was kind of off, but he wanted to make it look like he was enjoying himself.

_"__Just so you guys know, I got woken up by my wife, throwing pillows at me and screaming for me to turn the damn notifications off. Having said that – Good morning to you too!"_ Matt texted, along with a fuming mad emoticon.

_"__I miss our little Breakfast Club meetings..."_ Garcia poured her heart out, using a crying emoticon.

_"__8 o'clock at our favorite breakfast place?"_ JJ suggested.

_"__Sounds great!"_ Reid could not wait to leave those four walls that he had been a prisoner between for the past six days.

* * *

"I am so full!" Angie commented, barely able to walk after the lunch.

"Well, you ate the menu, basically." Bryan chuckled. "Although, it was more sweets that you ordered. I still can't believe you are fully functional after so much sugar."

"Ah, it's the youth." Angie started skipping through the grass and waving her hands left and right, like a happy child.

"She did not just call me old!" Bryan muttered to himself with a frown.

"Yo, Energizer Bunny, wait up!" He called out and picked up his pace.

"We have twenty minutes until our afternoon class." She announced after checking the time.

"I have an idea!" Bryan grabbed her hand and started walking towards Angie's dorm.

When they got to the room, he shut the door and locked it.

"Wow, this must be good if we need all this privacy." She smirked, sensing that he was up to something.

"Oh, it is!" With those words, Bryan pulled out a huge piece of white paper and secured it on the wall, on top of Amanda's study table.

"Oh yes. Let the investigation begin!" Angie clapped her hands contently and hurried over to her side of the room, grabbing some colorful pens and stationary.

Bryan drew a somewhat of a straight line in the middle of the paper and they started filling in the timeline.

"Wait, no. When did that happen? I don't remember that." Angie protested when Bryan was about to put a sticky note at the point right before they heard Amanda scream.

"Oh, I guess I never told you about this, but I remembered hearing Amanda say something before we heard the scream." He explained, as on the note he had written that Amanda was heard saying something like "_not yet_".

"Are you sure?" Angie did not believe him.

"Well, not when you look at me like that." Bryan hesitated, still holding the sticky note, but now unsure if he even wanted to place it on the improvised board.

"Hey, can I try something cool with you?" She had an idea that, clearly, got her very excited.

"Oh, man! The last girl who said that to me…ohhh, she was mean with those teeth." He smirked.

"Eww, you are disgusting and I did not need to know all that. Gross!" Angie winced and kept waving her hand in the air, trying to move those mental images of what Bryan had just said, away from her face.

She then asked him to sit on the couch and make himself comfortable.

"Yup, it went a little like this, too." He pushed it a little further and Angie felt compelled to throw a pillow at him.

Once he was done talking dirty, she commenced.

"Now, I need you to calm down. Relax your breathing. Pace it out, slowly and evenly." She said in a voice as soft as silk.

"I'm not into yoga, sorry." He shrugged, his eyes still open and looking at her with disbelief.

"Shut up and close your eyes, Bryan!" She said, a bit more sternly this time.

He complied, because he didn't want to see what would happen to him if he didn't.

"Now, I want you to picture the woods. Take a moment to _really_ picture things, as they were. The five of us, the trees, the cold…" She spoke softly.

"Imagine you are back there, right now. What do you feel?" She asked, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, to make notes.

"It's…obviously it's cold. I mean, it wasn't in the beginning, but then there was wind, this strong wind, very soundly, too." He started off. "We got dropped off to our location and we wandered around, trying to see what was near us. But it was pitch black. I ran into a tree without even seeing it in front of me. You were talking to this new guy at this moment, so I was glad you didn't notice me making a fool out of myself."

"Good Keep going. Tell me everything you remember. Any detail counts." She tried so hard not to comment on how sorry she was for having missed that scene.

"Well, we got to the location where we spent more time at, without moving around. I don't know why. I thought we were supposed to explore…" Bryan suddenly felt confused. Their task had been to explore and to get to different places, not to sit around and chat.

"No, wait. Wait a minute…" He squinted his eyes a bit more and she could tell that he was digging deep into his memories.

"I was walking…yeah, I was walking by your side. You were between me and this new guy, the elder one. Then Amanda and Jack were…well, I don't know where. I figured they were either ahead of us or behind us." He still sounded confused.

"Think harder, Bry-Bry. Yes, I was between the two of you. But where were Amanda and Jack before we reached the last stop we made?" She urged him to recall things, as she already knew the answer to that question.

"Ahead of us, I guess?" Bryan took a wild guess, but after a second he changed his mind. "No, that could not be right. I remember asking you if you knew where we were going and you said you were unsure, but you thought we should take a turn to the right. Yes, that's right. You wanted to turn right. The elder guy mentioned we should keep going in a straight line, but you wanted to turn right. So, it must mean we were ahead, since _we_ were calling the shots and choosing the path. Jack and Amanda must have been behind us. They couldn't have been next to us, because right before we got there, we passed through some wild trees and I remember branches were everywhere, so it would have been hard to stay together and avoid the branches, while walking in a perfect line of five. We must have split then: the three of us went ahead and the two of them stayed behind."

"What do you hear?" She asked curiously.

"Uhm, branches being torn from the wind. There's also the sound of leaves and broken branches that we were stepping on as we walked. I could hear someone's stomach churning. Yeah, someone was hungry, I remember you later giving them a snack bar, because I remember you opening your bag and grabbing the fairy lights, too." The more he spoke, the wider the grin on Angela's face became.

"Okay, this is good. Very good, actually. Tell me more. What else did you hear?" She pushed it and he could tell that it was important.

"Uhm, nothing. Like I said, the wind was too strong. I couldn't hear anything." He shrugged, with his eyes still closed.

"Oh yeah? Are you sure? Then how could you have heard someone's stomach?" She challenged him.

He took a deep breath and kept quiet for a moment, just thinking hard.

"Amanda!" He said triumphantly. "Amanda was saying something, to Jack, I think. She spoke quietly, as if she didn't want anyone to hear it."

"Good. Keep going. When did she say that? Can you make out her words?" She asked, writing something on the paper.

"Uhm, no. I don't think I heard her words. I only heard her voice. I think she spoke before you wanted to change directions." He suggested, but then he took a moment to really think about it and he changed his mind once again. "No, she spoke _after_ you. I remember I was annoyed as we walked through the branches. Once that cleared out, I was still irritated, so the fact that nobody was talking got me even more upset. I specifically remember making an effort to start a conversation, so that's why I asked you if you knew where we should go. I didn't care about the directions, it was just a conversation starter. And then you suggested the right turn and the new guy argued with that…Uh, then, yeah…that's right, that's when I heard Amanda speak. I wondered if she'd make a snappy comment about your proposal or if she would actually have your back. Yeah, I remember being interested in what she said. Wait a minute…she said a few words and then I started listening more intently…"

Bryan was amazed at the amount of things he was _just_ remembering. It had only been a week, but it felt like he had forgotten crucial things about that night.

"Yeah, I saw a flash coming from behind. A light. I guess it must have been a thunder, but it wasn't this strong. It also lasted longer, like maybe three seconds. Then we stopped walking. Right before that, Amanda spoke again. This time I was listening carefully and uh…she asked for the time…I think…"

"None of us has a watch or any kind of electronic gadget, Bryan." She reminded him.

"No, but she did say "_time_". I remember that now. I don't remember the other few words, but she most definitely said _that_ one." This time he spoke with authority, Angie decided to believe him, so she put that into her notes.

"Then you were going through your bag and Jack walked off. He said he needed to pee. He came back three, maybe four minutes later. I never thought about it, but given that it was pitch black, he could have literally peed in front of us and nobody would have seen him do that. So, he was away for a little bit too long. Hmm…" Bryan bit his bottom lip, suddenly suspicious.

"This is good, Bryan. Now, forget about Amanda. Focus on Jack from that moment on. What did Jack do when he came back?" She asked, her own memories now suddenly coming back as well.

"Well, Amanda didn't do or say anything else. She was just there, like the rest of us. But when Jack came back, I heard a sound. Two sounds. Consecutive. Like a knock. No, wait, a knock would have been louder. Also, there was no wood around us, except on the ground, but those were just branches and he couldn't have knocked on those. Also because the sound came from up above, not from the ground. It came from like, I don't know, shoulder height." Bryan then took another moment to recall things. "Oh my God. It was a pat on the shoulder. Double pat. Yes, that's exactly what it sounded like. Like, a sign or something. You know, like the one we do when we are searching a house."

"But was it Jack to pat Amanda's shoulder or was it the other way around?" She asked.

"No, no, it couldn't have been Amanda. It was a strong pat, a loud one, since I was able to heart it through the wind. Amanda is much more gentle. It must have been Jack. Maybe he wanted to give someone a sign that he was back in the group?" Bryan exhaled sharply before inhaling again. "But I heard his footsteps near me. So he walked by me first and then went to Amanda and pat _her_ shoulder instead. Why not pat mine? Why not simply speak out and say he was back? It's like, almost as if he only wanted Amanda to know he was back, but we could all sense his presence there, too. It was obvious. He's a big guy, heavy, his footsteps would be hard to conceal anyway."

Bryan then gasped and it made Angie drop the pen from the surprise change in his emotions.

"No, wait. That's right. I heard the footsteps. When he walked away, he went in one direction, but then he came up from behind me. And at that moment I believe I was with my back towards the place where Amanda wandered off to afterwards. So, he must have come from there, but that's definitely not where he walked off to. Like, he had almost made half a circle on his way back." Bryan's memory was solid.

Amanda was impressed by all the new information they were gathering.

"Then you gave the other guy the protein bar, snack bar, whatever that was…" He trailed off, thinking about the order of things. "No, I heard his stomach churning one more time and that's when you took the backpack off your shoulders and you grabbed the bar and handed it to him. Then you saw the fairy lights and took them out. I remember you said you didn't know you even had them there, that you just grabbed the bag and they happened to be there from when you moved to the Academy, you said you never unpacked them. When you lit them up, I saw your face first, because my eyes were drawn to the sudden source of light, which was in your hands. Then you handed each one of us a piece of the string, we formed a line and…wait, Jack was between you and me when the lights went on. But then, in the line, he was all the way at the end of the line, next to Amanda, who was next to the other guy, followed by you and then I was at the other end of the line, opposite to Jack. It didn't make sense. Him and I would have ended up holding the rope next to each other. How did he get all the way to the other side?"

Angie closed her own eyes for a moment, trying to picture it all.

"Wait a minute!" She added, taking over the story. "I felt someone elbow me at some point. Someone was moving around. It was the new guy. He pushed me aside, so I could be next to you. I remember that now. I thought it was cute, because he knew we were already friends and he probably thought I'd be more comfortable next to you anyway. So, he walked past me and…he looked at Jack. Yeah, he did look at Jack, I noticed that when I looked to their side of the line, when I handed them the rope, the fairy lights. The guy looked at Jack, Jack then looked at me and Amanda…"

"Amanda was looking in direction to where she wandered off to later. The same direction Jack came back from a minute earlier!" Bryan finished her sentence. "I know this, because initially I thought Amanda was looking at me, but she was looking _past_ me, sideways. I could see her eyes squint a bit, as if she was trying to make out the most of what she was now seeing, with the lights on. I never questioned that, because literally all of us were looking around and trying to notice as many things as we possibly could, now that we could finally see. Then the lights went off…"

"Yeah, I said I wish I would have changed the batteries, but now I remember that I actually did. Inside, there were two brand new batteries. Those were my favorite fairy lights and I had made sure they were ready to be hanged, once I moved in my dorm. That's why I put them in my backpack, to keep them safe from tangling with the other stuff I had in my bigger bag. So, the batteries were new." She bit her lip, much like he had done a few minutes ago.

"What happened to those lights anyway?" He asked curiously, sinking further into the sofa.

"I don't know. They weren't in my backpack when we came home. I never saw them again." It then hit Angie, something fishy was going on. "Hey, we went back to our crime scene so many times, but not once did we see the lights on the ground. They couldn't just disappear! So, either one of us took them and forgot about it, or someone was at the crime scene after that night."

"Angie, the batteries were on one of the two ends of the rope, correct?" He asked and she muttered a positive reply. "Well, they weren't on _my_ end of the rope."

What he suggested suddenly made sense to her.

"Jack's in on it!" She had her suspicions before, but this was just further proof.

"Yup. He must be involved. All the sneakiness in the woods, wandering off, messing with your lights…" Bryan commented. "I believe it's time we put Jack on our timeline, as a suspect."

"No." Angie's denial made Bryan open his eyes.

"Not a suspect." She smirked, writing Jack's name on a sticky note and placing it next to Amanda's name, in the middle of the timeline. "An accomplice!" She added proudly.

"No way! You think Jack and Amanda did this together?" Bryan then stopped and thought about her suggestion for a second. It made sense. All the weird things that Bryan had just recalled about that night, fit with what Angie was suggesting.

"Until proven otherwise." She double tapped Jack's name on their board and she showed Bryan the notes she took while they spoke.

"Woah, all of that is new information!?" He glanced at the paper, with eyes wide open.

It was almost a full page of words, connections, assumptions and things that he had just said.

She nodded.

"How did you just do that? Man, I didn't even know I had seen and heard all these things until you…you did…what the Hell is it that you did just now?" He raised an eyebrow. If she said she was a magician, he wouldn't find it hard to believe.

"I just gave you a cognitive interview. You should know that, David." She teased him, surprised that an LAPD Sergeant was not familiar with this technique.

"Oh, that's right." He sighed. "I'm not David, stop that! And also, I was SWAT, I'd go around the block, knocking doors down and saving hostages. I didn't take part of all the detective work that went on before or after my missions. I do know what a cognitive interview is. I know how hard it is to conduct a successful and unbiased one. Question is – how do _you_ know how to do it?"

"I'm a genius." She smirked, turning this into a joke before he would ask any further questions.

"Alright, now let's keep going and find out what I could remember about the fight and everything that happened after it." He suggested and Angie had to shoot him down.

"Sorry, bro. It is only effective when it is short. I can't just keep on squeezing information out of you, otherwise we risk that you start making up memories, just to answer my questions and to close the case." She stood up and grabbed her notebook. "Also, we now have four minutes to get to the auditorium for our next class."

Bryan looked at his watch and jumped up from the sofa. How could she not warn him earlier?

They made a sprint to the academy building and took their seats just as the teacher was walking in, along with Dan.

They had never seen this teacher before. He was quite young and clearly already an Agent, but he was a new face to everyone.

Dan introduced him as a substitute and also let them know that their class had been canceled and that their evening exam was pushed to, well, that very same moment.

"As you can see, there is a tablet in front of each one of you. Inside is an interactive test, containing questions from every subject you have treated within your first two weeks of the Academy. You are supposed to, at any given time, be up to FBI standards, know your shit, and be able to produce high results. So, buckle up guys, because this test is not going to be easy." Dan said briefly and then waited for everyone to stop fidgeting and whispering so that he could give them a sign to start the test.


	31. Fifteen

**Warning:** Vague mention of a disturbing event from Emily's teens.

* * *

**CHAPTER 31**

_**FIFTEEN**_

"Je suis fatigué de toutes les promenades." Emily found it weird to admit that, but after two hours of walking she was finally feeling a bit tired.

"Tu as faim, c'est tout." He said, reassuring her that she was just hungry and that was all.

"I guess you're right." She admitted, switching back to English.

Richard then looked around and remembered a really nice place he had once been to. He decided to take Emily there.

To her surprise, it was not a fancy five-star place. It was just a small, family-owned restaurant, with typical French food, from the region. Those were Emily's favorite types of restaurants, while Lauren was more of a fancy gal, always striving for the best, the most expensive, chic and fancy place.

They ordered some food and kept on discussing the weird little things that they liked. Emily even mentioned that one time when she had bought concert tickets to go see Celine Dion on tour and, possibly for the first time, she admitted that she quite enjoyed that evening. It turned out that Richard didn't dislike Celine Dion, either. He wasn't a fan, but he randomly mentioned a few of her old songs and Emily started chanting away, to the best of her singing abilities.

The dinner went by quickly, given that both of them were enjoying themselves. Then it was time to leave the restaurant and maybe go have some rest for the night.

However, Richard was not in a hurry to put an end to the second-to-last day with this woman.

"I don't know about you, but I feel like dancing." He said as they walked alongside the water.

"Yeah…" She said dreamily.

He then noticed how much Emily was enjoying the feeling of the water on her toes. Somewhere between walking along the beach and walking with their shoes on, on the sand, Emily had managed to go unnoticed when she kicked her shoes off and walked straight to the water. Subconsciously, Richard had followed her, but he hadn't realized that she was barefoot while he still had his shoes on. He was, after all, mesmerized and unable to think straight or see clearly.

"Oh, no!" He groaned once the feeling of wet socks took over him.

Emily giggled and went deeper in the water. She rolled her dress up, so she could easily go knee-length in, before she started splashing water at Richard.

"Stop." He said before he started laughing as well. "Ohh, it's cold. Haha, you are mean, Lauren!" He said teasingly and Emily suddenly stopped her teasing.

She turned with her back towards Richard, pretending to be kicking water around, in a direction different than his body. However, it was only to conceal her frown.

It had been over a day now that Emily was slowly coming to the realization that she didn't like him seeing her as Lauren. She also realized that what she was showing him was _Emily_, and that she was only using Lauren's name as a mask. But the woman Richard was spending time with, was rather Emily.

"I feel like dancing too, now." She said, turning around, only to see him standing right behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss.

_"__Mmh, I feel like doing something else now."_ Emily thought to herself, but dared say nothing to him.

She was trying this new thing where she would actually hang out with a guy first, before she would end up in bed with him. It was a promise she had made herself recently, but she was now regretting. The promise itself was a good one, solid one, one that showed that she respected herself and her body. But, damn it, the timing of it couldn't have been more wrong.

For the first time, Richard felt how she melted in his hands. Each time he had held her, she had gotten to be less and less tense. She didn't know it, but he had definitely noticed it. Each kiss had been more passionate, more real. Each time they were close, she let him closer, she let him hold her for longer, she let herself hold him tighter. Emily was completely oblivious to this fact, unlike Richard.

At that very moment, he felt like he was holding a feather. They were only knee-deep into the water, but it felt like he was holding her floating body - light and easy to move around.

He picked her up and she squealed a little bit, because that feeling of being in the air was something she hadn't experienced since she was really young and dating a bodybuilder who liked to pick her up and carry her around.

"If you throw me in the water, oh, I swear to God-…" She started off, but got interrupted when he put her to the ground again and shut her up with another kiss.

"Give me your phone." She smiled, putting her hand out.

He didn't even think twice before he took it out of his pocket and placed it in the palm of her hand.

She switched the camera on and put it on selfie mode before she snapped a spontaneous picture where he was giving her a kiss on the cheek while she had a stupid little smile on her lips.

"God, we look like we're fifteen." She commented, laughing.

"Doesn't it feel that way?" He laughed as well, making sure the photo was saved properly before he put his phone back in his pocket.

Emily paused for a second. Fifteen hadn't been a great age for her. She had been struggling with her identity, with fitting in a new group of mean kids, a new city, a new country, a new lifestyle, but same old story.

At fifteen, Emily had hated being a Prentiss. Emily had hated being simply _Emily_.

At fifteen, Emily had cut school to go experiment with smoking cigarettes with the guys, no matter how much she despised cigarette smoke. She had figured, in order to fit in, this was the least she could do, since drugs and even just marijuana had always been off the table for her…up to a certain point in her life.

At fifteen, smoking cigarettes had not been enough. Emily had let herself get broken down under peer pressure. She had learned to deactivate the security system at home, allowing herself to escape, all those late nights.

At fifteen, Emily had a friend named Matthew. She would drag him to late night parties with her new friends and she would ignore his every attempt to tame her inner devil down.

At fifteen, Emily Prentiss had been a mess. An emotional wreck, an even bigger one than what she currently considered herself being. Hormones, the lack of parental guidance, the bad company she was stuck in - it all kept dragging her down.

At fifteen, nothing Emily did seemed enough. She would eventually cave in and do whatever she was told, in desperate attempts to fit in with the same people that she, subconsciously, couldn't even stand.

At fifteen, Emily Prentiss had a head on her shoulders, one that was empty and malfunctioning, when she needed it the most.

At fifteen, Emily Prentiss needed Lauren Reynolds' balsy attitude to give her a rude awakening and to bring her back on the right path.

At fifteen, Emily Prentiss was alone. And _alone_ was the last thing she wanted to be at that age.

At fifteen, Emily had gotten involved with a boy with dark hair, dark eyes and dark future in front of him. Blinded by the promises he made her, dumb teen Emily Prentiss allowed herself to be used and tossed aside, like trash.

At fifteen, the drunk daughter of the ambassador in Rome had been weak…weak enough to be unable to shut down this boy's advances. She had let him fool her, let him use her, let him _have_ her against her own will…

At fifteen, smart Emily Prentiss failed her first test. Two clear blue lines threatened to ruin her life even further.

At fifteen, Emily Prentiss had to make life-altering decisions that she didn't want to be faced with.

At fifteen, Emily Prentiss was a child for the last time in her life. But she was dumb and gullible for the first time. She was weak and uncontrollable, for the first time. So, a specific first time with this boy had resulted in a lot of other first times for her.

At fifteen, she had masked her face up with black make-up and tried to make herself ugly, so that people wouldn't notice her anymore.

At fifteen, Emily had created her first alias, going by the name of DarkPoison online, which was where most of her time was being spent, once she broke away from her new friends.

At fifteen, Emily Prentiss had no one to hold her hand, to walk her through what was happening to her. She had to make a choice and even then, it did not go as she had planned.

At fifteen, a broken, lonely and desperate Emily Prentiss had started experimenting with drugs, against her own will. She had figured, if her innocence had been taken away from her, who cared about her morals, her beliefs? What if drugs weren't as bad as she had been brought up to believe? What if alcohol really could take the pain away? What did she have left to lose, anyway? She had already lost a great deal of herself. She simply did not care about the rest.

At fifteen, broken and alone, since it was her friend Matthew's turn to spiral out of control, Emily Prentiss made a promise to herself: never trust a man again, never give a man control over you. And, so far, she had made good to that promise.

So, letting Richard hold her and make her feel so vulnerable, in a _good_ way, felt absolutely nothing like when she was fifteen.

"Hey?" He tried to catch her attention, noticing how she had lost herself in her thoughts. Again.

"Hey, yeah. Dancing. Let's go." She forced a tiny smile, eager to let loose and to keep on working hard, perfecting this current version of Emily Prentiss.

* * *

"Good luck." Bryan whispered to Angela right before they were told to start their exam.

"Nah, I don't need that." She sad, absolutely confident in herself.

Two hours went by and the test was as hard as Dan had warned them it would be. There were so many questions about random things and examples that each teacher had mentioned, that if one hadn't been alert _all_ the time during every single class, there was no way they could pass.

Angie hated the whole section that had to do with driving. However, being a very good listener, she didn't find it too hard to reply to most of the questions. And she was somewhat sure she had hit the right answers.

The other parts of the exam, especially the Criminology and Ballistics ones, she found to be way too easy for her.

Criminal law was a bit complicated, because just one word could change the whole meaning of a sentence and everything had a precise order of words and explanations and stuff. She spent some more time reading her options carefully before she would choose an answer to submit.

There were some questions about nutrition, which were things that their PFT trainers had mentioned to them very randomly while training.

At some point, Angie put her hand up in the air.

"Yes, Trainee Hunter." Dan sighed, allowing her to speak up.

"I'm done. What now?" She asked, as they were given no instructions whether they should leave the room after they were done.

"Now you sit quietly in your seat for the next fifteen minutes and wait for everyone else to finish. Once you submit your scores, at the end of the countdown, your individual test scores will appear on your screens. And then you can go do whatever you want." Dan explained calmly.

If Angie hated one thing, it was to sit and be quiet. She was definitely not good at it. For the next fifteen minutes she played with her hair, braided it twice and put it up in a ponytail three times before it ended in a messy bun, with the bow sticking awkwardly on top of it.

She also managed to make a small incision underneath the table, two lines that almost formed the letter T, or maybe an L. She then drew a little heart with a pencil, right next to it.

When Dan put his hand up and told them the time was up, everyone's test answers got uploaded simultaneously and their results showed up after ten seconds.

Angie heard people sigh unhappily and she rolled her eyes. They should have paid more attention in class, she thought.

"What!?" She gasped when her result came up.

"Oh, sweet. I got a 91%." Bryan commented, proudly turning his tablet to Angela before he noticed the number that was on her screen.

"Excuse me!" Angie stood up, furious. "Your system is having a glitch!" She informed whoever was listening to her, but really, she intended those words towards Dan.

"Our systems are fine, Trainee Hunter. Maybe your knowledge is to blame, huh?" He said in the rudest, most obnoxious way. Or at least that was how Angie perceived it.

"No!" She would just not let it go. "My knowledge is solid. I did way better than this on my exam and I demand a second look at my answers. A human verification, if I may suggest so. That human being anyone else, but you, preferably." She said confidently, but Dan gave her a stern look, so she felt compelled to add something to soften the blow. "Uh, Sir."

"God, you're so lame." Bryan whispered to her. "But damn, you got balls, girl!" He added, proud to know her.

"Yo, where are you going? I'm not done talking!" She saw how Dan disregarded her plea and how he was now walking towards the exit, so she made a run towards the door, blocking it with her body and placing her hands on her hips.

"This is not a result I would ever get on an exam like this one. Not even if I took it blindfolded, drugged out of my right mind, drunk into oblivion, hanging upside down from a tree, while the exam was held in Mandarin!" She raised her eyebrow and Bryan noticed something intimidating about her mouth. Her lips were pursed a little bit, she seemed angry, but also very confident in herself. If she were yelling at Bryan, he would have felt ill-at-ease, even though she was so slim and fragile-looking.

"I need to get to my office." Dan's hand waved, as if to urge her to move aside and let him leave.

"And I need a fair score on my exam! What makes your wish any more valuable and urgent than mine?" At this point, Bryan closed his eyes, hoping that Angie would just stop talking.

"I'm the Class Mentor. Are you sure you want to keep talking to me with this tone, Miss?" Dan had a smug smile on his face, like he was enjoying getting on her nerves.

"Positive!" She replied quickly. "And that's _Trainee Hunter_ for you!" She added, because when people called her dumb nicknames, she just had to call them out.

"You got nerve, Trainee Hunter!" Dan's affirmation only met more of her wrath.

"And then some!" She added, not giving him the satisfaction of backing off.

"A score of 73 is not as bad as you are making it out to be, Trainee Hunter. You still did better than some of the other Trainees." Dan said casually.

"Some? No! I won't back down until I do better than _all _of them! I have to do better than my own self!" Dan noticed how Angie put her chin up as she said those words.

Pride. Intellect. Stubbornness. Insubordination.

Angela Hunter – the Academy's Wild Card this year.

Dan's personally picked trophy.

"Nothing can be done in regards to your test scores. Same cannot be said in regards to your status as an active Trainee. So, I would advise you to step aside and let me go now." It was Dan's turn to play hardcore. He knew that the one thing that Angela would not dare gamble with was her spot at the Academy.

Angie did step aside, but she was far from done being a bitch to him.

"Don't let the door hit you on your way out." She mumbled quietly, letting the door close itself as Dan walked out, making him trip on the other side of it.

She smirked and returned to her seat to grab her personal belongings.

"Why would you do that?" Bryan asked her, wanting to give her a nice slap for her stupid behavior.

"Because he needs to know he cannot mess with me." She stated calmly.

"But, you heard him, 73% is not that bad. You'll do better next time." He tried to calm her down.

"I can see how David never took part in the detective business." She smirked again, it almost looked to him as if she thought she had won this fight with Dan.

"Huh?" He said while grabbing his water bottle and following her out of the auditorium.

"Like you said, I heard him speak about my 73% score." She smiled. "However, after the test scores were uploaded to each one of us, individually, he never even looked at his tablet. So, how would he know my test score? I never mentioned the number."

"Oh, crap!" Bryan realized where Angie was going with this. "You think Dan messed with your test score, just to mess with your head?"

"I _know_ so." She shrugged, as if it were normal.

"Ugh, it's like we're in a movie and there is a different twist in each scene. It's so confusing." He said while checking what time it was.

They walked to the notice board, wondering if their new weekly schedule would be on it. Last week they had received a printed out schedule, but nothing was given to them now.

"What? The FBI suddenly has no money to print our schedules anymore?" Angela rolled her eyes, noticing how the new schedule just hung on the wall, as if they were supposed to write it down in their own notebooks.

"What bothers me is that since the class got cut and we're already done with the exam…" He started off. "What is next on the schedule for today? It's only five o'clock now. I doubt we are getting our evening off. They must be planning something big."

"Like, the cuts maybe?" Angie supposed. "Oh, if I get cut today, based on a bogus exam result, I'm turning this into a national scandal. Just watch me! I'll go to every major TV station and I'll sell all the intel I have on this whole damn Academy!"

"There's the whole Privacy Agreement we signed before joining the Academy, but yeah, who cares, right?" He said sarcastically.

"Oh, Bry-Bry! Can't you just shut up and let me have my imaginary revenge on that asshole?" She said dramatically before they both burst out in laughter.

* * *

As soon as Dan had walked out of the auditorium, the young Agent who was a supervisor during the exam, spotted him and walked over.

"Well, you weren't joking when you said she was a firecracker." The guy stated.

"Nope." Dan smiled, because the way Angela handled the situation was exactly what she had expected her to do.

"What was her actual score?" The guy asked and Dan had to open his tablet in order to see that. He hadn't seen any of the results yet.

"Damn, she hit a 99%." Dan sounded surprised. He knew she would be good, but he didn't expect her to be _that_ good. No wonder she was yapping at him with such confidence earlier – the girl clearly was sure of herself.

"You chose well this year." The younger guy said devilishly.

"I chose well last year, too, young boy! Jealous it wasn't _you_?" Dan laughed, messing with the young guy's hair a bit.

"I just hope she's ready for what's about to hit her." The agent commented, thinking of what he had gone through, a year ago, and he hadn't even been Dan's Wild Card himself.

"Oh, she won't be doing it alone. Her friend, the Ken-Doll looking guy, I'm dragging him along with her." Dan said and it was obvious he was talking about Bryan.

"No way! Two? Haha, this is going to be one Hell of a run of the Academy!" He said while fixing his hair.

Dan and this guy clearly had a good relationship.

"It would be one for the books, kid! We're making history here." Dan commented before he hurried towards his office, as he was already five minutes late to a very important meeting with his Superiors.


	32. You Are The Devil

** CHAPTER 32**

_**YOU ARE THE DEVIL**_

"Oh, wow. We are twice as old as the oldest person in here!" Emily laughed as they walked into a night club.

"So?" Richard challenged her, straightening his pants and hating how crinkled they looked.

After getting all soaked with water at the beach, he had quickly changed into the first pair of pants he found in his suitcase, in the trunk of his car, which was on the way to a night club. Most importantly, he now had a dry pair of shoes on and he was feeling much more comfortable.

"So…" She grabbed his hand, just as a new song started playing. "Let's show them how it's done."

Emily felt carefree, at a place where nobody knew her and nobody cared about her. She was just a human, in a crowd of drunk humans, pretending to know how to dance.

"Well, hello there, wild American tourist." He grinned when she started getting a bit wild. "You got moves, Lauren!"

Emily decided to shake off the sound of that name and to just focus on the music.

Richard soon offered drinks, but Emily didn't want to ruin her night with alcohol. She made a mental note to herself to be at least a little mad at Garcia when she got back home, since her little stunt had taken away the opportunity to let drunk Emily take over the club. However, she knew that the moment she consumed any alcohol, she would start feeling the side effects again, and her sudden emotional outbursts and all the crying she did on the highway two days ago, were enough side effects for her to have to handle while on holiday.

Richard felt thirsty, so he got them both virgin cocktails and she ended up liking the taste of hers.

An hour later, all sweaty and in the middle of the dancefloor, Emily realized that she never really needed alcohol to get her going.

She was famous for being a free spirit, when it came to partying. She could be SSA Prentiss all day, every day, but like Luke Alvez had once said, she was a hot little Mammacita when the sun went down. Emily recalled the moment she had heard him say that about her and how inappropriate she had found those words to be, given that she was his boss. However, she now wished she would have taken it with a pinch of salt. He was, after all, right about what he said.

"Doesn't it feel just great to leave a night club and not feel that dizziness and tipsiness and that urge to drink water straight out of the sea?" She commented when they finally decided to leave.

He laughed, as he knew exactly what she meant.

They kept on walking in direction to where his friend's house was. He had shown a photo of the house to Emily when he had asked her to go.

Coming down the street, they could hear loud noises and music. Emily already knew she was not going to get any sleep, with all that commotion going on at the neighbor's house, but she could think of an alternative way, or two, to spend the night, awake.

"Alright, it's the last one to the right. The closest one to the beach…" Richard pointed out as they walked.

The noises only kept getting louder and louder until they found themselves at the gate of this beautiful house, the yard of which was full of men in dark costumes and women in, well, not much clothing. If any, at all.

"Ooh…" Realization hit Richard and he felt like a dumb idiot at that moment.

"Let me guess…You only asked your friend if you could use the house this weekend and he organized you a little surprise party, for the good old days, since you failed to mention you were coming here with company already?" Emily smirked, suppressing her laughter.

This was too much to handle. Her eyes darted to a very eager twenty-something year old blonde girl who was just getting out of the swimming pool and directed herself straight to the lap of one of the guys. He could have been her father, twice her age, easily. Instead of the need to cringe, Emily just wanted to laugh out loud. This was ridiculous and she wasn't sure what would be an appropriate reaction to all of it.

"Yeaaah, something along those lines…" Richard shrugged.

"He's known for his wild parties. I guess I should have been a bit more specific about my weekend intentions…" He felt so uncomfortable and Emily found that to be so endearing.

"So, hate them…" Emily laid out their option. "Or join them?" She added with a naughty smirk.

"Oh, no, no, no…" Richard shook his head in denial of what she was suggesting.

"There is only one woman I want to spend my time with." He added, his fingers searching for hers before he held her hand and turned around, unable to watch the scene any longer.

"Good. You have passed the test!" Emily now laughed out loud.

"Oh, is that so? What are you, Interpol or something?" He tickled her lightly as he shot a joke at her.

"Huh, please. Interpol is so lame. All they ever do is paper work, sit behind a desk, drink coffee, wear those godawful costumes and act like they're the shit." Emily could not help but blurt it all out.

_"__I know from experience!"_ She thought to herself, in addition, but this time she did not share those words with Richard.

"Yeah, totally lame. Nobody likes the Police anyway. So useless. All they ever do is let the real bad guys walk away. They are all around us, you never know whom you can trust." Richard's eyes had a certain spark in them, as he spoke. Emily did not notice it, as she was glancing over to the party, which, in a weird way, kind of maybe intrigued her a little bit.

"Let's choose a hotel randomly." She suggested as they started walking down the beach again, in direction to the city center, since they were both sure they weren't going to spend the night at, what seemed like, the Playboy House.

"Fine." He looked around and spotted a tall one right in front of them. "How about that one?"

"Hmm, no. It's too big." She winced, not liking the exterior of the hotel.

"Ha, what she said." Richard smirked and Emily gasped, not expecting him to say something like that.

"Let's go check this one out." Emily pointed to a five-floor hotel that looked fancy, but also boujie.

She saw a fence that divided the beach from the private swimming pool area of the hotel.

"What are you doing? There's video surveillance." Richard hissed at her when he saw her put her right leg up against the wall and crawl up, clearly aiming to get on the other side of the fence.

"So? Who would identify us anyway?" She smirked, but soon after came her downfall.

"Oh! Careful! I got you." Richard reacted right away. It happened in less than a second – Emily's shoe slipped on the fence and she was about to hit the ground, had he not immediately grabbed her and picked her up, so she could grip the fence tighter and steady her foot on the side of it.

"Enjoying yourself much?" Emily smirked.

She was now safe and secure, however, Richard's hands were still on the same spot where they managed to grab her as she was about to fall.

"Uh, sorry." He said shyly, realizing he was still grabbing her, well, but cheeks.

"I do have a great ass. So yeah, I get it." She said confidently and almost frowned when his hands let go of it.

_"__I'm so glad she bought that dress."_ He thought to himself, without saying a word out loud.

* * *

He had previously seen her in pants and he doubted the grip would have felt as good as it felt now that she was, well, not covered in that area.

"I guess this is you making good on the promise to have me fully moved in by the end of the week?" Bryan asked when he saw Angela walking towards his dorm room.

"Uh-huh." She nodded. "Also, this is me getting my fairy lights back!"

"How do you even know you'll find them her-…" He cut off his own question, as it took her five seconds to find them after they walked in the room.

"Amateur! He didn't even try to conceal them!" She rolled her eyes, grabbing them from under Jack's bed.

"Look! I told you I remembered changing the batteries. Those black and red ones are mine, for sure. They are the cheapest ones on the market, nobody else buys them anyway." She laughed, happy to see that her favorite lights were intact and working. One of the three batteries was missing, so Jack could have tossed it away in the woods, when he had messed with the lights.

"There's our first solid proof of Jack being an accomplice. Or involved in this whole thing anyway." Bryan commented while sticking his personal belongings into a suitcase.

Angie grabbed his stuff from the bathroom and he asked how could she know which products were his.

"I know what you smell like, hence, I know what you use. And no, it's not because I'm a genius. It's because I'm a girl, duh!" She said jokingly while grabbing random things from the bathroom shelf.

"Oh, those two are not mine." He pointed out the last two things that she had just picked up.

"Yeah, I know. But this is the best brand out on the market, plus, the bottles are full, so they are now yours." She smirked. Clearly, she had no shame in stealing Jack's belongings. He had, after all, stolen something of hers first.

She let Bryan walk out of the room and she told him she needed to go to the bathroom first, so he waited for her outside. She joined him three minutes later, with a content smile on her face.

They walked to Angie's dorm room and packed all of Amanda's things in boxes, putting them away in the little storage closet by the entrance door, so that Bryan would have sufficient free space to move in and put all of his stuff.

Angie hung the fairy lights above her bed, against Bryan's protests that they should be treating them as piece of evidence. There was just no way she would sleep one more night without the lights twinkling above her head. Luckily for her, she had two spare batteries, so she replaced that missing one without a problem.

"Okay, this has always felt more like home than my own room anyway. Even if I was sleeping in the bed of a girl, presumed dead." He winced at his own statement, but the best part was that Angela knew exactly what he meant.

"Now, we go celebrate!" She suggested cheerfully, already picking out a dress from her tiny little wardrobe.

"We can't leave the Campus." He reminded her while searching for something nice and clean, to wear himself.

"Nobody said we can't enjoy the Campus then." She shrugged, having an agenda in mind for the night.

She then walked over to his stuff and very casually picked something up and put it in her bag, without him noticing.

Angela, the thief, was out to play that night.

* * *

"Never would have pegged you for a bandit." Richard commented once he was also on the other side of the fence.

"Oh yeah? Do I really look like a good girl to you?" Emily gave him her best puppy eyes, as if to fool him to think she was cute and innocent.

"Honestly?" Richard asked with a smirk.

He moved closer and held her against his body before giving her a brief kiss.

"Good girls are not my type." He whispered against her lips and she almost died. Again.

When Emily pulled away from his grip, a light suddenly fell on them. Her movement had triggered the automatic night light and they were now standing in the middle of the pool deck, fully dressed and completely immobile.

"If only you could see your face right now!" Emily started laughing.

He didn't seem like the good boy type of guy either. She had already profiled him as someone who was extremely bad at following rules and working under someone else. Although, she was sure he would be good if someone was working on top of him, but that was, clearly, meant in a completely different context.

"Thinking about naughty stuff again?" He could tell by now, when Emily was having some inappropriate thoughts.

"Busted." She said, tilting her head sideways a little bit and her shoulders raising up an inch.

"Fancy a swim?" She asked, shooting a glance over to the water.

It was warm outside and they were both still sweaty from all the dancing, so a swim sounded like a good idea…

Until he picked her up and threw her in the pool.

"Holy crap!" She hissed, as soon as her body swam up and her head was above the water.

"Too soon for this joke?" He asked.

"No. It's just that…" She felt shivers down her spine and it was hard to concentrate enough to be able to speak eloquently. "It's freezing, damn it!"

"Oh well, I guess I could use a cold shower right about now." He smirked and jumped in the water, attempting to be brave and manly.

However, he regretted his decision as soon as his head was above water.

"Oui, it's freezing." He said grumpily.

Seeing how cute the hotel looked, none of them would have imagined that the pool was not heated at all.

She noticed Richard was about to hop out of the pool and she grabbed his hand, forcing him to face her.

"Wait. It's actually not that bad after a bit. Give it time." She smiled, speaking of the water temperature in the pool.

He brought his hand to her face, gently brushing away a few strands of hair from her cheek and forehead before leaning towards her.

"I'm afraid time is running out." He whispered, a witty play on words.

She knew he wasn't talking about the pool and it made her feel really guilty. He had told her, numerous times, that he knew she would be leaving at the end of the week. It didn't seem to be such a huge problem for him, but she just couldn't help but feel guilty about it.

"Hey, in comparison, Cinderella only had one night…" She said silently, her hand holding his hand underwater. "But you can bet this was the best night of her life."

What she said was true – she really did feel like this week had been the most fun she had ever had with someone.

However, it was true only for _her_. It explained only _her_ own feelings about it all.

"I know." Richard challenged her, because this was the best way to talk to Emily. "But she never, not even for a second, considered how the Prince felt about it."

His words were true, for _him_. Because, yes, Emily had been more than straightforward when she had told him she was a person who would always end up leaving. But also, she never considered the fact that by committing to this week and committing to _him_, she was ultimately going to hurt him, by leaving. He never spoke about it, but it didn't mean it wasn't on his mind.

"She was also a fairytale character." Emily pointed out, as if that was going to fix things.

"So was he. From the same fairytale, nonetheless." After this statement of his, Emily had no right to comment any further.

His message was perceived, loud and clear.

And yet, even if she wanted to, there was nothing she could do about it – she knew that Sunday she would _have_ to leave.

Luckily for her, some French guy started yelling at them for being in the pool so late at night. They made a run to the hotel, pretending to be guests.

Emily pushed him in the elevator and hit the last button, the 5th floor.

When they walked out, she threw herself at him, as if they were getting hot and heavy.

Richard gave her a confused look, but it wasn't like he wasn't enjoying it.

Soon after that, Emily opened a random door and dragged Richard inside.

"Uh, the utilities room?" He said, confused.

They were in a small closet, surrounded by dirty and fresh towels and all sorts of cleaning products.

"Think about it for a second." It was her turn to challenge him.

"Oh, I get it. A couple bursts out of the elevator, can't make it to their room, ends up in the utilities room instead…" He narrated and she kept on nodding.

"Then moves to their own room…" Emily said confidently, suddenly holding a room key in her hand.

"Where did you get that?" Richard raised an eyebrow.

"The key chain." She said calmly.

"But how do you know this room is not occupied?"

"Look around. Aside from the mixed pile of dirty towels, what else do you see?"

"Empty shelves with only two piles of fresh towels on them. With room numbers written on the shelf where they are placed. And one of these room numbers is the one you are holding."

"Impressive, Detective!" She was proud of his ability to spot things out.

"If the fresh towels are still here, it means the maids haven't prepared these two rooms for guests yet. So, I guess one of them just got booked for the night." Emily smirked, dangling the key between her fingers. "And if they ever check the security footage, we are nothing but a bunch of horny tourists, impatient to get to our room." She added.

"Wait." He called after her as she was exiting the closet.

He turned around and grabbed the Do Not Disturb door sign and then followed her, placing it on the door before they checked in, illegally.

* * *

"Damn, you could have told me we were going to the pool!" Bryan protested when he realized where Angie was taking him.

"And ruin the surprise?" She smirked, grabbing his swimsuit from her bag and dangling it in the air.

"You are the Devil!" He laughed and made sure to go change somewhere where she wouldn't be able to see him and be scandalized by his nudity.

When he came back, she was already in her beach bikini, selecting music to play on her phone.

"Wanna see some cool cheer flips?" She smiled while stretching her muscles a little bit first.

"Is it inappropriate to tell you that I've seen plenty of cheerleader moves?" He smirked proudly.

"Yes." She replied before selecting a song that she liked and hitting play. "But, please, tell me all about it." She challenged him, suddenly sounding like a less of a prude.

'Ready? Okay!" She called out before she made a quick run towards the swimming pool, jumping in the air and performing a perfect set of two skills before she landed in the water.

"Woaaah!" He was impressed. "That was perfect!"

"Actually…" She came up to the surface and spit out some water. "It was crap. That second thing I did, I overspun and if it were on a mat, I would have landed on my ass."

"Oh, well, to someone like me who doesn't know anything about the rules, it still looked quite impressive." He pointed out before standing up and jumping in the pool as well.

"Shit, why didn't you tell me the water was so cold!?" He could feel his teeth gritting.

"And ruin the pleasure of seeing you suffer? No way!" Yes, she was most definitely the Devil.

They started splashing water around and being silly while they discussed random things about their experience at the Academy so far.

In between swimming and then dancing on the edge of the pool, time went by quickly. When Bryan checked the time, it was already midnight.

"Well, it's officially Monday now. I guess that means no cuts on the second week either." He commented.

"Yup. That could only mean more severe cuts, the third week." She just had to be a pessimist.

"Come on, don't say that." He frowned. He had been in such a great mood until she brought that up.

"Oh, you just wait and see, Bry-Bry!" Angela said threateningly, before pushing him in the water one more time.

* * *

"I thought you didn't want to consume any alcohol." Richard said, surprised to find Emily in front of the mini bar as he walked out of the shower.

"I don't." She commented, grabbing a small pack of chocolates from the side shelf. "Same cannot be said about sweets."

"Well, lucky for you, you have a man with the name of a pastry shop." Emily laughed so hard when he said those words. She appreciated a man with a sense of humor as awkward as hers.

"Mmh." She teased him with a silent moan as she let her hand trail down from his chest. "I have to yet get a taste of that, though."

_"__If you don't stop licking those damn lips, you better believe you will get a taste, right here, right now. Ugh!"_ Richard thought to himself, while quietly fixating on her lips.

"You are the Devil!" He finally muttered, as Emily fed him a piece of chocolate.

"And you, man with the name of a pastry shop…" She kept on teasing him and he both loved and hated it. "You are no Angel."

He grabbed her hand while she made an attempt to feed him another chocolate and he forcefully tackled her to the floor.

Yes, she was right before – he did not mind someone working on top of him.

Even if he had tackled her, he then made sure to switch them around, so that _she_ would be on top.

Emily kissed him with all she had, all this time thinking to herself: _What did I do to deserve him?_

She could feel his heartbeat when she lowered herself and pressed her body against his. She didn't know this, but he could feel her heartbeat just as clearly.

A couple of minutes into their little teasing game, Emily was done with the promise she had made to herself.

She let her hand tug on the belt of his pants and she knew that there would be no turning back from there.

Without realizing when or how that happened, the clasp of her bra came undone and she sucked in a breath.

And then, as every good moment in Emily's life, came the downfall.

Richard's phone started ringing. She had heard it ring a few times before, during this week, but this was a different ringtone. To most of the other calls, he had not replied. But hearing _this_ ringtone made him groan in annoyance and gave her the impression that he _had_ to answer.

He tried to ignore it, but it didn't stop. The sound seemed to get louder and more annoying with every second that went by.

Emily knew how to read people and she could read "_rage"_, written all over Richard's forehead as he forced himself to remove her hand from where it was currently laying, at the clasp of his belt, and to grab the phone. With one glance to the caller ID, Richard knew he had to respond right away.

He muttered a _Sorry_ to her and stood up, waking to the terrace and shutting the door behind him.

Suddenly, the imaginary sign on his forehead changed. Emily could now read "_relief_" and that confused her.

He was on the phone for about five minutes, a time during which both of them lost their appetite for dessert, after the actual chocolate dessert.

She could see him wave his hands in the air, he was clearly pissed off at the person he was talking to, or maybe at something he was being told.

She also heard him swear a few times, in French, and it surprised her. Richard had never used a single bad word, all week long. He did not seem like the rude type of a man who would swear and act disrespectful.

However, the swearing was all she could make out of the conversation. At first, she felt compelled to eavesdrop, but given that the curtains were see-through and he could literally see her standing by the window, she decided to opt for plan B – she needed a cold shower.

When she walked out of the shower, he was laying on the bed, staring at the blank wall in front of him.

"Problems at work?" She suggested, because hardly a friend could ever piss him off so much.

"Yeah." He replied shortly.

Emily was smarter than to keep asking. She had already profiled Richard as a man who could not keep a secret from the people he cared about. So, she could only sit quietly now and hope that she was one of those people, because she was curious to know what had gotten him so worked up.

After a long moment of awkward silence, he just poured it all out and Emily suppressed a victorious smirk.

"He's a dick! My colleague is a complete idiot, with no regard to anyone else's feelings. All he wants is the job to get done. How, when, why and at the expenses of what, well, those are not questions he gives a crap about!" Richard sounded like an upset kid, recalling an unfair soccer game.

"A while ago he asked me…" He paused, then correcting himself. "No, he _ordered_ me to do something. Okay, he wanted the thing done and I volunteered to help, so I guess this is kind of my fault, as well. But I just wanted the job, not all the complications that came along with it. It was an easy task – I had to go somewhere, talk to someone for a bit and then go back home. Job done."

Emily couldn't deny it, but she quite liked a worked up Richard.

"No. Instead, he had to go and change the rules and he kept on changing things and asking me to do more and I couldn't stop halfway, because that would mean my assignment would fail and I also didn't want to continue, because it was too hard for me to do that stuff without losing myself in the process." He sighed, placing the covers on top of him. If one thing could make him happier at this moment, it was to feel warmth, after the icy cold water in the swimming pool.

"Did he make you do something illegal?" Emily asked, already hating Richard's colleague.

"Not exactly. I mean, what I had to do was actually a pretty cool thing, that's why I volunteered to be assigned to the task." He then placed a part of the covers on top of Emily, making sure she was also being warm. "But, like I said, it had to be a quick and simple job. And then came the complications and the requests and the no turning back and the time pressure and him holding things over my head, in case I wanted to back off."

"Wait a minute. That's bribery! He can go to jail for that!" Emily's first college degree had been in Criminal Justice, so she was already mentally preparing a case against that unnamed person.

"No, he could never go to jail." Richard pointed out.

"Why? You work for Jesus or something?" Emily laughed and failed to notice how Richard rolled his eyes.

"You see, the things is – it was never supposed to be this way. None of it was supposed to happen. And now I don't know how to undo it. I don't even _want_ to undo it. I have no shame and no regret about anything that happened. I just hate not being able to be truly myself while doing all of it, because I know that all the lies and the shadiness has turned this task into a web of secrets, one that I cannot find a way out, well, not alive anyway." His metaphors confused Emily.

Given the fact that she had no idea what his job was, not even which industry it belonged to, she found herself unable to decipher the coded message behind his words.

"Wait. So you still did the job well, right? And you're upset because you couldn't be 100% yourself while doing it?" Emily asked, trying to make sense of it all.

"Exactly!" He was surprised to see how easily she got it. Well, part of it, anyway.

_"__Pfff, you have no idea how well I understand you – pretending to be someone else, losing yourself in that character, only to realize halfway along the way that it was the real you that you took on an adventure. And then being unable to admit to that, because it is way too late and the truth would, at this point, ruin everything good you have done and achieved."_ Emily thought to herself, because saying those words out loud would do one of two things:

One – it might make him realize that he was not the only one in a similar situation and that might make him fall for her a little more and that would definitely suck for him when Sunday came.

Or Two – it would ruin everything good they had experienced together for the past week and there was no way Emily would be leaving on a sour note. Not with Richard! Even at the expense of having been a liar and a deceiving bitch to him all this time when he was treating her like a Princess, in turn.

"Well, think about it this way – if you did the job well and you are proud of having succeeded…maybe you should cut yourself some slack about the ways you achieved that. I mean, you said you were losing yourself and you couldn't be true to yourself, but it's not like you were straight-out lying and being conniving, right? So, don't blame yourself for things that are out of your control. Just be happy that your job is done and move on." She smiled and then felt the need to add something else. "And before you say that the same can be applied to me, know that I am fully aware of the fact that I need to stop blaming myself. It's just…well, harder than it sounds."

Richard gulped. His hand searched for her body underneath the covers and it landed on her upper thigh, where it circled for a bit before it came to a halt, warming up her skin.

"That's the thing. I don't want to move on." He said silently and even though Emily did not understand what he meant, she knew it was time to stop dropping questions before this would turn into an interrogation that would make him feel uncomfortable.

"We should get some sleep." She said, noticing how the sun was now starting to poke through a bunch of clouds.

They had danced until really late that night, then spent time wandering around and trespassing, before they ended up "stealing" a hotel room for the night. Time had flied and it was now twilight, and they were only just now getting the chance to get some sleep…since their attempts to get something else got shut down.


	33. The Whole Truth & Nothing But The Truth

** CHAPTER 33**

_**THE WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH**_

"Hey." This time it was Emily who had woken up before Richard.

This meant it was now Richard who got to see Emily's face, looking down at him, as if she was waiting for him to wake up. Which, she was.

"Do we have to check out already?" He asked jokingly, imitating her question from the morning before that one.

"No. The maid knocked on the door and I told her to come back tomorrow." She said devilishly.

"Good." He rubbed his eyes lazily.

Even without alcohol, he still found it hard to wake up properly, the morning after a night out.

"It should come as no surprise to you when I say that, but I'm hungry." Emily stated.

Oh, this must be why she was so eager for him to wake up.

"Seriously, how do you eat so much and stay in such a good shape?" He questioned, his hand caressing her thigh before moving to her flat stomach, under the covers.

"I work out, like, all the time. Usually in the morning. And sometimes late at night, too." She stated and then realized that she hadn't been to the gym in a week.

"I bet you're really good at the gym." He commented, without a doubt in his mind. A woman her age, with that figure, would obviously be good at working out.

"Probably not as good as you." Her hand then traveled up his chest, painfully slowly, allowing her to feel every muscle, his abs, everything.

"How about this?" He suggested. "We get dressed, we go get some breakfast and then we find a nice gym around here?"

"Oh, you just can't wait to see me beat your ass at the gym!" She laughed, only half-joking.

"I can't wait to see you sweat." He leaned in, whispering to her ear teasingly, before he hopped out of bed.

"Mean!" She called out after him, throwing a pillow in his direction, but he dodged it.

They got ready, once again dressing up in yesterday's clothes, since their suitcases were still in his car.

Emily lead the way out of the hotel, going by the reception desk with her head held high. They even got greeted by the staff, even though nobody remembered them ever checking in.

"Lunch?" A hotel employee pointed to the outdoors restaurant area.

"Oh, no. We only just woke up. We're heading out for breakfast first." Richard waved his hand in the air, showing him that they had no interest in staying. Moreover, since they had no _right_ to stay and eat the food.

"That's ok, Sir. We can fix you a wonderful breakfast. Go, get yourselves comfortable. A waiter will be with you soon." The young employee insisted with a smile.

"Well then, my darling, we shall go." Emily said in old-fashioned English, feeling a tug on her hand, as Richard clearly just wanted to get out of there.

"Woman, es-tu fou?" He asked her if she was crazy, as soon as they were on their own and Emily was walking over to a secluded table.

"Oui." She stated.

A waiter came by and brought them coffee, making sure it would match their tastes. He then brought them a whole tray of French pastries and some jam, made of fruits from their region.

"Merci." Emily thanked the man in French before he walked away.

"You're good at this." Richard stated.

"I'm good at a lot of things." She said before taking a sip of her coffee. "You'll have to elaborate on that."

"Acting undercover. You're actually amazing at it." Richard's words made her choke on her second sip of coffee.

Something about the way he said that, made Emily shiver.

"You know what else is amazing?" She did what she did best in situations when she didn't want to reply.

"These croissants. Uh! Heavenly!" She changed the topic.

Richard grabbed one and started munching on it without going back to his previous statement.

"Can I use your phone for a second?" She asked while spreading jam on a cookie.

Richard fiddled with the phone between his fingers. It almost felt like he didn't want it to end up in _her_ hands. He didn't have a problem when she had asked for his phone and taken that selfie with him, but that was because he was right next to her and he could see what she was doing. At that moment, however, Emily was sitting on the other side of the table and he would have no visual of his phone. No way was she getting to use it then.

"What do you need it for?" He asked lamely.

"I just want to Google an active wear shop nearby. I doubt I'd be comfortable working out in this dress." She laughed, only to mask up that she had definitely sensed Richard's awkward refusal.

"Don't worry about that. There's surely going to be some stuff to buy at the gym's front desk." He then did what she had done earlier when she didn't want the topic to continue – he changed it, much like Emily just seconds ago. "How are those ones with the jam? Any good?" He pointed at the cookies.

"Yummy." Emily was really good at pretending like she was completely oblivious. He had literally just admitted to the same thing.

She let it slide, for now.

After breakfast, they walked out of the hotel without paying for a single service they had used. It wasn't about the money, clearly. It was about the thrill.

Walking around, they soon found a gym, just a few streets away from the hotel. Like Richard had supposed, there was a limited choice of active wear sold there, but at least it was better than the dress Emily was wearing.

Emily opted for plain black leggings and a crimson red sports bra and long tank top. Richard got a pair of black shorts with a dark grey shirt.

They walked in and checked out the stations. Next step was to plan out their work out and then came the best part – the sweating.

Each different station they trained on, Richard thought he would dominate at. At some, he really did. At others, well, not so much. Emily was quite good at almost everything and he was impressed. At some stations she even gave him a run for his money and she enjoyed watching him suffer, sweat and sigh with desperation.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, they were done. Exhausted. Completely drenched in sweat.

"Three miles?" Emily suggested.

"Are you out of your mind?" Running was the last thing Richard wanted to do as they were just now stepping out of the gym.

"What? I always go for a run after the gym. It's good, it's cardio." She shrugged, it was something normal for her.

"Oh, I'll give you cardio!" He said threateningly, but also, very much teasingly.

She pushed him away when he leaned over. "Eww, no." She reminded him that they were both sweaty and there was no way he was getting anywhere near her, not like that.

"Fine, then let's just run to the car. I need to get my bathing suit. I refuse to leave St. Tropez without having laid at the beach for at least a couple of hours." She suggested and looked in direction to where the parking lot was. Apparently, even after all these circles around the city, she was still quite good with orientation, as she knew exactly which direction to look at.

They did as she had suggested and Richard was glad he had complied. She looked so good in that two-piece and he now had five more minutes to enjoy her in it, before she'd have to change.

Emily inevitably drifted towards the beach, running alongside it. She sure seemed to enjoy the water, a lot. He would have assumed she had grown up around the beach, as she was so carefree and happy, each time her feet felt the water.

The sun started to set down and they realized they hadn't even had a proper lunch after the gym. Richard suggested checking into a hotel, this time the right way, and taking a shower, changing into something nicer and then going to get an early dinner before spending the evening bar hopping and enjoying the scenery.

Emily agreed to it all and they found a nice hotel near the beach. Richard walked in first and she already knew he wasn't going to let her even mention paying.

He got things settled with the hotel, meaning that he paid for the Ambassador Suite and all services included, and they were soon accompanied to their room upstairs.

"Wow." Emily walked in, wide eyed.

Floor-to-ceiling windows, an amazing view of the coastline and the water, and candy on top of the bedside tables. Emily was a happy girl.

However, the bigger her smile, the deeper the frown on Richard's face was.

It had just hit him, one more time, as he was paying for one night only, that this was their _one_ night, the _only_ night left.

He left his bag by the bed and took a shower first, leaving her feeling a bit confused.

When he got out, she took a shower as well and it took her a little longer than usual. She then blamed it on having to shampoo her hair twice after the gym and the beach, but the truth was, she had once again fallen deep into thoughts about life and whatnot.

They got ready quickly and went out, in search of a good restaurant. Emily pointed one out and Richard liked it as well, so they ended up walking in there and not regretting their choice later. The food was really good, the portions were not as small as Emily expected, it being a cliché that portions in France were always small; and the view was breathtaking.

The view was what had drawn Emily to that specific restaurant. They were up on an open terrace, overlooking the promenade, feeling the gentle breeze against their bare arms until Emily ended up having goosebumps, twice; and there were lights, everywhere. Lights were hanging from the terrace, lights wrapped around the table legs, lights everywhere she looked. It reminded her of fairy lights and she smiled. There had been a time when Emily Prentiss thought that fairy lights were so dumb, but there had also been a time when Lauren Reynolds had grown to love those.

"What are you thinking about?" His curiosity got the best of him.

He had been watching her get lost in her thoughts, once again, with her eyes wandering left and right for the past couple of minutes.

"Just…life." She replied with a smile.

"Lauren, I-…" He started off, but once again, she did not want to hear it. Whatever _it_ might have been. She had a bad feeling about _it_.

"Can we get more of this?" She pointed at one of the dishes that they had just shared, only to change the topic.

Little did she know, he was able to play her game and turn it against her.

"We can't always have more of what we want, Lauren." He said, not even looking at the empty plate, as it was not what he was referring to.

Emily gulped guiltily.

"We can't always control what we want." She added to his statement.

"No." He smiled, a forced smile. "We can't."

_"__I really wish I was drunk right about now!"_ Emily thought to herself while sipping on some water.

"I-…" He started off once again, but this time she physically prevented him from speaking, as she put her index finger to his mouth.

"Please…" She almost begged. "Don't."

Richard shook his head. He had to get something off his chest and each time he had tried to do it, since last Sunday when they met, Emily had found a way to stop him. This was messing with his head so much and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it to himself.

But one thing was sure – Emily would not be leaving without the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth!

Or, would she?

* * *

"It felt really good, seeing you all again!" Garcia chimed happily after their Sunday morning breakfast turned into a four-hour brunch.

"Aw, Garcia. It's not like you won't see us _ever_ again. Everything will be back to normal tomorrow morning." JJ reassured her, giving her a tight hug and offering to drive her home, since on the way there Garcia had gotten a ride with Luke, who was now going in a different direction.

"Guys, one more thing." Rossi said before they would all jump into their cars. "Emily hates feeling '_babied'_. Don't be awkward and overly protective around her. In other words – don't make her regret coming back home."

"_If_ she even comes back home…" Reid whispered silently and it tore JJ's heart apart. She knew how broken Emily had left him a few years ago.

An hour later JJ dropped Garcia off in front of her house and went to pick Henry up from Sunday soccer practice, as Will was busy with Michael at the playground and he wasn't going to make it in time to the football field.

Garcia walked up the stairs, feeling both happy and sad.

After making herself a relaxing cup of tea, she sat in front of her triple-secured computer.

Different pop-ups appeared on her screen.

A few had to do with promotions from her favorite stores, cafes and shopping centers.

Others were connected to some weird searches that she had done recently, such as '_How to be a better friend'_. Apparently someone had just dropped a book on that subject and with a couple of clicks Garcia had just pre-ordered it.

Three pop-ups had to do with work-related things and twenty-four others had to do with cats.

The last two ones were the important ones, though.

One of those notified her for new credit card activity from Lyon, France. Garcia panicked, but then remembered how Emily had bribed her into promising that she would stop stalking her and she would stop worrying. Well, Garcia could never do good on the _No Stalking_ promise, but the least she could do was to not worry and to trust that Emily was okay. Even if she had used her twice-dead alias' credit card in a city, diverse from the one she was in, just two days prior.

But then, what if she was kidnapped?

That thought made Garcia nearly finish her tea all at once.

It did a crappy job at calming her down, so she then got up and fixed herself a second cup of tea, which she immediately dropped and spilled all over herself, as soon as she read her last notification.

_New e-mail from Chocolate Mike_

Garcia was dead. She was in Heaven and she was sure of it.

She then took a moment to appreciate the name of this undercover account. Mike, as in '_Magic Mike'_, and Chocolate as in '_Chocolate City'_ – Garia's two bibles, a.k.a. favorite movies ever.

She took a deep breath and then exhaled sharply.

A few days ago she had poured her heart out to a very special man in her life. It was now _his_ turn to wow her with his magic words.

She made a huge build-up before she finally clicked on the e-mail, expecting something amazing, heart-warming.

And then she frowned.

_Hey there BabyGirl,_

_I miss you too. Every. Single. Day._

_There will be a delivery for you, tomorrow at noon._

_PS: Someone says Hi in the attachment._

_Love you, my sweet, sexy, smart, irresistible vanilla temptation._

_Your Beau!_

Garcia started crying before she even opened the attachment.

This e-mail…yes, it was cute, but damn, it was so emotionally unfulfilling. It was not what she wanted. It was short, it felt like it had been scribbled down quickly, as if he didn't want to bother wasting too much time on her.

When she opened the attachment, she cried even harder.

A tiny little figure was waving, in a photo. A child, the cutest one she had ever seen. Morgan's son. She realized how grown up he was now and it made her cry even saltier tears, knowing that she had missed out precious moments of this child's life. She had only seen him in a few photos, but Morgan had made his choice clear once he had left the Bureau – he wanted a new name, new life, on a new continent even. Nobody knew where he was and he was smart enough to block the tracking of his each e-mail, the few ones he had sent to the team for the last couple of years anyway.

So, to have a few lines reply to everything that Garcia confided in him, was just _blah_! That was the exact word Garcia would use to explain ow she felt about it. Blah.

"JJ?" Garcia then decided it was a great idea to call JJ, who was driving on the highway by now, and to freak the Hell out on her.

"Oh my God, Garcia. Are you okay?" JJ gasped, hearing Garcia's heavy breathing on the other side of the line.

"No." She had never had any problems admitting defeat. Garcia was the one who would cry when she wanted to. She would always let people know when she was hurt. And those were qualities that Emily had always admired, reasons why she loved Garcia so much. Maybe Emily was even a bit jealous, in a healthy way.

"What's wrong? Is anyone in the house? Do you need help?" JJ was beyond freaking out, to the point where she was now driving in the middle of two lanes.

"I'm okay. It's just…" Garcia started off, interrupted by hiccups every now and then. "I know Sunday is family time and I also know we just spent _hours_ together. But I have no family. And I don't want to be in this house on my own. And I'm such an egoist for calling you right now. I know you were excited to see the end of Henry's soccer practice and to take him out for ice-cream later. I just, I really wanted to hear your voice. It's the only thing that could really calm me down."

"No, that's _Emily's_ voice. Usually." JJ corrected Garcia, but then realized her mistake.

A few days ago it had been JJ to break down in hysterical sobs, at the mere mention of Emily's name. She was now doing something similar to Garcia, just by pronouncing it.

"Listen. Try to calm down. Go take a nice bath, try out one of those new bath bombs I got you last week, okay?" JJ suggested while doing her best to stay in one lane only.

"Oh, I likey-likey bath bombs!" Garcia was like a big child – she could always be lured by something colorful and smelling good.

"Then I want you to prepare an overnight bag and to sit on your butt and wait, okay?" JJ added.

"Wh-why?" Garcia stuttered, still crying.

"Because I'm on my way to go get Henry and then I'm on my way to come get _you_. You are _both_ family to me, okay? And then we are all going to get ice-cream and Will and Mikey will come join us when they are ready to, as they wanted to go visit the aquarium after the playground." JJ smiled on the phone. "You are spending the night at my house and we are watching cartoons with the kids and making Will go crazy with all the scented body spray we are going to use before bed, okay?"

"Are you su-su-sure?" Garcia was now smiling through her tears.

"Absolutely! Now let me drive, girl!" JJ laughed.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Garcia chuckled and it made JJ feel much better, knowing that she had successfully changed her friend's mood.

"See you later." JJ said before hanging up and focusing on the road again.

Garcia was probably the only person for whom JJ would drive 40 minutes in one direction and then 40 minutes more in the opposite direction, and then an hour more, including Sunday afternoon traffic, back to her house.

Well, Garcia and Reid. Those were the only ones.

And Emily.

But that was it! Just those three people, out of seven billion people in the world – it was the three of them that would always have that special place in JJ's heart.


	34. Shh! No Talking!

**CHAPTER 34**

_**SHH! NO TALKING!**_

"That was a good dinner." Emily stated as they were walking out of the restaurant.

"That is thanks to the good company." Richard smirked, but then felt the need to elaborate on that. "I mean _you_. Obviously. I didn't mean to say that _you_ had a good time because of _my_ company. That would be so incredibly…wait, what's the opposite of modest?"

Emily chuckled. He was the male version of her, when it came to awkwardness. They were equals, just one had boobs and one had, well, other bodily attributes that were, sadly, a lot less visible than hers…with that deep V-neck she was sporting.

"Well, I _do_ enjoy your company." She stated, now walking a little closer to him.

He put his hand around her shoulder and kept on walking.

"Drinks?" He suggested as he eyed a really nice bar by the water. Although, he already knew her answer.

"Non-alcoholic, I mean." He corrected himself and to that, she nodded in agreement.

Emily seemed to be the one to do most of the talking at the bar. Richard was a bit more quiet than usual, but he kept his eyes glued to her face. She almost felt like he was one of those street artists, taking a good look at her, in order to be able to draw an accurate portrait of her later. He studied her temples, her nose, every curve of her cheeks, her bone structure, the position of her lips when she laughed, all the little crinkles, all of it. Maybe he was, indeed, constructing a mental portrait of her in his mind.

She had tried to ask him questions, but each time he had replied shortly and had then let _her_ do the talking.

As she was going on and on about some book she had once read, suddenly, Richard's eyes diverted from her face and looked at something behind her, at the back of the bar. Something or someone, she wasn't sure. His body became tense, she could tell, and his jaw clenched.

"How about we call it a night?" He suggested, not even halfway through his second virgin cocktail. He had insisted on making Emily company in her sobriety these days, although there was nothing he wanted more than a few glasses of fine French wine.

Well, there was this _one_ thing…

Emily shrugged, oblivious to his reason for wanting to leave so abruptly.

He paid and they quickly made their way to the hotel. Once inside the room, Richard finally relaxed a little and started being chatty again.

He commented on a few things that she had mentioned at the bar and, even though his opinion and personal taste were different, he put that in a very educated way. Emily appreciated that, but Lauren would have hated it.

Overall, Lauren would have left his ass by Tuesday.

Emily would have stayed by his side past Sunday, if she had the option to do so.

Alas…

"Lauren…" He whispered, sitting next to her on the bed.

_"Here we go again…"_ Emily thought to herself, trying hard not to sigh, because that would have been rude. Accurate, but rude.

Every single time Richard had expressed his desire to tell her something, she had shut him down. A few of the times she did that subconsciously, as she was distracted with other things and thoughts, so she never realized what he was trying to accomplish. But other times, she had a feeling. A bad one. As if he was about to say something that would ruin her fairy tale. And, as much as Lauren wouldn't have cared, well, Emily did.

"Shh!" Once again, her index finger rose to the level of his lips, softly pressing against them.

"No talking!" Her voice came out weak, weaker than he had ever heard it before.

It was a 100% Emily's voice. Lately, all of Lauren had left her body, until there was nothing but Emily left in there. And that was messing with her head so much. That was one of the reasons why she was so desperate to drink. That was a reason why she would definitely be letting Garcia know how upset she was with her little stunt. If she ever had the heart to do so.

She pushed him against the pillows, her hand unbuttoning a whole bunch of tiny round buttons from his shirt.

"Lauren…" He tried to protest, because there was no way he'd actually do anything before she knew the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"Please…" That soft, pleading voice of hers made him shiver.

Subconsciously he knew what her fear was.

Consciously, however, he was torn apart between the truth and _her_. _All_ of her.

When his smart shirt flew open, Emily pushed it aside and took a moment to slowly brush her hands against his bare chest.

Richard noticed that she was in deep thought as she did so.

_"There is no way __this__ could not be real…"_ Emily reassured herself, without saying a word out loud, with her hand now pressing against the left side of his chest, feeling his heartbeat, a bit ragged, a bit fast, a bit like her own.

_"I promised myself I'd stray away from random hookups…"_ She continued telling herself, that inner voice circling over her head constantly, as her lips stayed pressed shut. She wouldn't say one more word out loud to him. She didn't want to. And she didn't _have_ to.

_"But there is nothing random about him…"_ Her inner voice continued, taking over the conversation she was trying to have with herself. She needed to hear those words, but she couldn't be the one saying them, to herself. So, her inner voice of reason came out to play, which really was a rare thing to happen in Emily's life.

_"And this time, it is __you__ who is calling the shots…"_

_"This time, he's not forcing you to do anything…"_

_"This time, Emily Prentiss is on top…well, no pun intended…"_

She chuckled a bit. Even her inner voice was a twisted little kinky gal, quite like her.

Quite like Emily Prentiss…

And then she realized something, once again. Richard had only _met_ with Lauren Reynolds, but then he had spent his time with Emily Prentiss, instead. Seven days, during which Emily had tried _so_ hard to delude him that she was Lauren, that she had finally managed to delude herself. Richard had only ever seen Emily. He now knew what Emily liked, what Emily ate, what Emily drank, how Emily dressed, what pitch her voice hit when she laughed, what she smelled like and God, what the majority of her body looked and felt like, too. He had only ever seen Emily's face and the only thing he had given to Lauren was the mere mention of that name.

Lauren Reynolds…

Emily shuddered at the thought of that.

Had she fooled her own self?

Did he actually like Emily Prentiss, then?

What did all of this mean?

He felt her shiver and he took that as a sign that she'd like to be held. She _needed_ to be held. And he complied, instantly. His hands wrapped around her, bringing her lower, pressing her body against his.

A soft moan escaped her lips, because, God help her, Emily could not suppress that. Not with him. Not now. Possibly not ever.

Now completely in his arms, unable to break away if she wanted to, she found herself…relaxed.

She remembered an instant in her life, when a man had held her this tight. A boy. A dumb idiot. Fifteen year old Emily Prentiss had been unable to move, unable to escape. Intoxicated, she had been unable to fight back, to scream for help, to do just about _anything_. So, she had let him control her. She had let him make her weak. She had let him destroy her in ways she never thought possible, at that moment in her life. A fifteen year old Emily Prentiss had figured it would be over quickly, so she had closed her eyes, bit her lips and she had cried. In her fifteen year old mind, this was nothing but a moment that would be over and she would forget later on.

Wrong.

_So_ wrong.

That moment had stayed with her forever, making her incapable of establishing a connection with another human being, if it ever had to go beyond friendship. She simply did not know how to. And subconsciously, she did not want to give any man such power over her. Dominance. Control. She'd be damned if she did.

Deep into those thoughts of hers, she was brought back to reality by Richard's left hand, which left his place on her lower back, just to trail up to her face and to wipe a lonely tear that had just rolled down her cheek.

Wasn't it the same, though?

The same like when she was fifteen?

She was still in the arms of a man. Held tight. Immobile. Crying. Vulnerable. Somewhat weak. Emotionally unstable. Not really sure who she really was. Unable to break away. A prisoner…

Wasn't it the same exact situation?

Emily sucked in a breath and finally opened her eyes, realizing they had been shut this whole entire time.

The first thing she saw, in the shadows of the weak little night light next to the bed, was his face. She was sure he was smiling at her. And she was sure it was a genuine smile.

He wasn't fifteen.

He wasn't a boy.

He wasn't controlling her. Hurting her. Forcing her.

He had been patient…God knows this man had been patient for _days_, through all of her little teasing games.

Every kiss had been initiated by Emily. The most he had ever allowed himself to do was to hold her and yet, the moment he felt like she was uncomfortable, he'd always loosen his grip and give her two options: leave…or stay in his arms.

And she had always stayed.

Every single time.

And she knew she wanted to stay. Again and again.

For the first time in her life, Emily Prentiss was not overwhelmed by that alluring desire to leave. To run away. To escape.

But she also knew that the times he'd be holding her from now on, were counted. If not finished, completely.

She also realized one more thing – he was now looking at her, with his lips just there…right there, in front of hers, but he hadn't dared to make a move.

His right hand drew circles on her now bare back and she didn't recall the moment when she'd lost her clothing, but she was willing to bet that she had taken it off, herself.

Because it was Emily Prentiss who was calling the shots.

It was _her_ wishes that he was bowing to.

It was _her_ timing he had respected.

It was _her_…

It was all about _her_…

Emily Prentiss.

Not Lauren Reynolds.

She opened her mouth, because there were three words, eight letters, just itching to be communicated to Richard, no matter how soon it was for them to come out. But she decided to communicate that to him in the best way, the most genuine way she knew.

Non-verbally.

She let out a brief sigh before she pressed against him, letting him know she wanted to be held. And she wanted it to be a tight grip. She wanted no opportunity to escape.

She wanted _him_.

And, feeling his hands comply with that wish, tightening their grip on her instantly; for the first time in her life, Emily Prentiss felt…safe, in a moment like this.

Happy.

Wanted.

Respected.

When another moan escaped her lips, she realized she had, once again, initiated a kiss. And he had, once again, waited patiently for her to do so.

It was Emily Prentiss who called the shots.

And she wasn't Unit Chief.

She wasn't everyone's best friend and confidant.

She was just Emily Prentiss – a strong, confident, extraordinary version of the girl she had been at fifteen.

And at that moment, the inner voice spoke to her again.

_"Your fifteen year old self would be proud of who you have become. You've sure had it rough, Emily, but I like to believe all of it has shaped you to be the exceptional woman you are today!"_ It said to her and she felt another tear on her cheek.

This time, Richard removed it with a soft, lingering kiss.

_"You deserve this…"_ The inner voice kept on speaking.

_"You should allow yourself to enjoy this…"_

Emily's lower lip quivered and Richard's free hand caressed her cheek softly, allowing her to press it against the palm of his hand for just a second, enjoying that new feeling – the feeling of finally being able to connect to someone, not just physically but also emotionally. And genuinely.

_"This is real…"_ The voice whispered and Emily could barely hear it anymore, as if it was walking away, as it spoke. As if it had already told her everything she needed to hear.

And then there was silence.

Complete silence in which she felt comfortable, for the first time in her life.

It was Emily Prentiss who was calling the shots.

And this time, with him, it was real.

The lights in the room went off for the rest of the night.

* * *

"I'm starving." Angela confided in her best friend after they swam a few more rounds across the pool.

"No wonder. We must have lost like five pounds this evening with all that splashing and swimming." He put his hand on his stomach and felt like it was empty as well.

"But all the bars are closed now. It's like, past one o'clock at night." She commented, hopping up and dragging herself out of the water.

He couldn't help but notice the ease of that movement. She supported her weight so easily and he felt proud. On their first PFT she had received negative feedback about her upper body strength and there she was now, a few thousand pull-ups later, lifting herself up as if she was a feather.

"Come on, don't pretend like I don't know about your secret stash of chocolate and candy." He smirked.

When he was moving in with her earlier, he had noticed a basket, full of sweet treats and snacks. She was keeping it in the corner, between her bed and the window curtain.

"Don't you dare, Mr. Grabby Hands!" She frowned jokingly, but also, she wondered whether he would turn into the kleptomaniac type of a roommate who would randomly start stealing her stuff.

"Now that's a nickname I haven't heard in a while." He smirked, loving nothing more but to push Angela's buttons.

"Eww." With a wince, she pushed him back in the pool, just as he had hopped out of it. She did not need to know what his hands had previously grabbed. It was hard to even picture him as being that type of guy. It was like Bryan was two different people, at once, and Angela had no right, nor desire, to question that.

They changed into their clothes and picked up all of their belongings before exiting the swimming pool area.

All wet, they found it hard to even breathe outside. Angela's legs were shivering and Bryan felt like his trachea was frozen. That's how cold it was. Or at least - how _they_ perceived the temperature outside.

"Welcome home, roomie!" She opened the dorm room door and made a hand gesture, urging him to walk right in.

"This is going to be fun. I mean, I practically live here anyway." He hurried over to the shower and in the meantime Angela set out a table of treats for them to enjoy after she would take a hot shower as well.

"Jesus, Angela!" He gasped when he saw her in a pajama he had never seen before.

White and baby pink, with sparkles everywhere, little sun rays across the back of the top part, while on the bottom there were tiny little white clouds with sparkly silver lining. And then – Unicorns. Everywhere.

"I feel like I'm crashing my little sister's fifth grade slumber party." He started laughing so hard, his finger pointing at her, up and down.

"Jesus, hahaha. This does not belong to the FBI Academy. At all!" He kept on going and the more he spoke, the less Angie cared.

"But _I_ do!" She commented only on his last statement, giving him a twirl, so he could take a better look at every little sparkly detail. Maybe this would give him a new idea for something to tease her about. She did not care, not even a bit.

"I hate how confident you are about yourself." He pointed out, while still laughing. And he was clearly being ironic.

"Well, if I'm not confident about myself, then who will?" She shrugged.

All of her life, Angela had reminded herself to love herself, to look up to herself, to never put herself down, even when she had screwed up. After each mistake, she would sit down and think about what she had done wrong, come up with ways she could have handled herself differently and then analyze what outcome that might have had. She would draw conclusions and make mental notes to herself on how she should act if one day she would find herself in a similar situation.

She was not the typical 23-year old kid. And she hated being called a kid, but unfortunately, with her angelic face and slim figure, that's a word she heard quite often, when people spoke to her, or about her.

While he was busy laughing, she looked at the piece of paper where they had earlier scribbled down their new weekly schedule. And she smiled.

"This looks promising. We're starting to learn new things. We have explosives training now and less law, which is just amazing. Sadly, tactical driving is still on the list." With her last few words, that smile of hers turned into a frown.

"You really hate driving, don't you?" He grabbed the paper from her hands and started reading some more of the classes.

"No, I quite enjoy driving, sometimes. I just don't like _tactical_ driving. It's so much stress." She sighed.

"We have STEM! Oh crap." He frowned as well. "Not my favorite foursome during high-school." He added, making Angie throw a pillow at him, looking at him with disgust.

"I like science and I don't completely suck at technology either. I'm also not impressively good at it, so I'd love to learn more. But engineering and, especially, mathematics…oh boy. Hell no!" She suddenly felt a tiny bit less confident in herself, but that would only serve as a boost for her, to make her push herself even harder.

"Advanced investigative and intelligence techniques. How cool is that?" Bryan commented before Angie grabbed the paper again.

"Give me that!" She said, snatching it out of his fingers. "Oh, interrogation techniques. Yas, just yas!" She clapped her hands with excitement.

"Counterterrorism, counterintelligence. Now that's where the boring people get assigned to." She made a disgusted face. These two fields had never interested her. "Ugh. White collar crime. Seriously? Rich dudes stealing money from other rich dudes? Like, who the Hell cares?" She rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of specializations…" Bryan had been waiting for the best moment to ask her that question. "What are your top interests? Which Units are you interested in applying for?"

Angela already knew that ex-SWAT Sergeant David wanted to go into the Hostage Rescue Tactical Unit, but she had never discussed her own wish. With anyone, really.

"Not _Units_." She corrected him. "_Unit_. And _interest_." She added, clearly stressing out that it was singular.

Bryan looked at her, not really getting it.

Each Trainee would later on be asked to sign up a form, enlisting 5-to-10 interests and at least five Units he or she would want to be assigned to. Then it would be up to the Bureau to assess their requests and, based on their Academy performance, to assign them to the Unit they believe best fits the Trainee's capabilities.

This had always been the most stressful time, for every single Trainee, during their 21 weeks in Quantico.

"I have _one_ interest and I am joining _one_ Unit." She stated confidently.

"Yeah, you know that's not how it works. You have to broaden your horizons. Otherwise you're setting yourself up for failure and, at the very least, disappointment." He tried to knock some sense into her, because limiting oneself to one thing only was a recipe for disaster.

"Yeah…" She looked at him quizzingly. "No." She added with a sly smirk.

He sighed. Did he really have to choose the most stubborn girl to become friends with?

"I know what I want and I'm here to get it." She continued and somehow, no matter how unrealistic and childish she sounded, he failed to make space in his mind, for any doubt that she would actually accomplish it.

Yes, she was stubborn. But also yes, she was more than a hard worker. An overachiever.

Bryan closed his eyes for a second, picturing her in one of those academic robes, a hat on her head, her chin held up as she stood on a podium, with a microphone in front of her lips. She must have been her high-school class valedictorian, she would have been perfect for that.

"If you're picturing me naked, please stop." She grimaced, opening a candy bar and taking a bite.

"Not really, no." He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

At this very moment, Bryan decided that, no matter what would happen in the future, Angela would _always_ be in his life, in one way or another. But he also refused to live a day without this annoying, bubbly, overly confident, sparkly little pink brat, wrapped with a bow, yapping by his side.

"Oh my God, we're also starting to learn about physical and electronic surveillance." Angie got on her feet as she read that on their new schedule, and she started doing a very nerdy happy dance.

"Stop. I'm begging you! This is hurting my eyes and your ego!" Bryan put his hand in front of his eyes jokingly, but Angela was feeling no shame.

"Wohoo! Ain't nobody safe no more. We are watching you!" She said with bad ass chick attitude and he was more than sure that she would be stalking everyone's ass, just to apply what they would be learning in class.

_"Bad boys, bad boys…"_ She started singing. _"What'you gonna dooooo…"_

_"What'you gonna do when we come for you?"_ Bryan suddenly jumped up and followed in her silly footsteps, mirroring her dance moves and acting like a fool, even singing along to a song that, weirdly, fit their current situation perfectly.

Angie gave him a look of approval.

"What?" He smirked. "If you can't beat them – join them!"

When their sugar high cooled off, they sat back down on the couch and Bryan smiled a little bit. He couldn't remember the last time he had acted so free, the last time he had even felt like smiling, without having to force the muscles of his mouth to form into a fake smile, only to fool somebody.

And yet, there was still sorrow in his smile, even at this moment. Angie noticed it. She had been noticing sorrow in his eyes since they had met. It was as if she reminded him of someone and, as much as he wanted her by his side, she was also a constant reminder of an old daemon in his life, something that made him upset.

Clearly, she knew better than to ask him about it.

"It's half past two." She said with her mouth still full of chocolate from the second bar that she had opened.

"I bet you Dan is going to wake us up even earlier than our Call Time tomorrow morning. Or rather, _this_ morning." Regret about not having timed this celebration properly, started creeping up in Bryan's mind.

"Alright, lights off." She quickly gathered the empty packages of sweets and threw them in the bin before fixing the pillows neatly on the side of the couch and making sure the room was neat and clean before she headed off to bed.

"Goodnight, Angie." He said, already underneath the covers.

"Goodnight, Bryan." She whispered in the dark. "I have a feeling this week would be the start of something amazing!"

He could only hope she was right.


	35. I Don't Want To Fall In Love With Lauren

** CHAPTER 35**

_**I DON'T WANT TO FALL IN LOVE WITH LAUREN**_

Sunday morning – universally a time for snuggling under the warm covers, being lazy until late, maybe fooling around with a partner, making plans for brunch and also, living your best life.

Well, not for everybody.

"Bonjour." For the first time, Emily Prentiss found the strength to give a proper morning salute to someone.

To someone?

She opened her eyes rubbing them a few times, so she could get a more clear view of the other side of the bed.

"Richard?" She called out, realizing that she hadn't greeted someone.

She had greeted _no one_.

"Où es-tu?" To her question where he was, he did not reply.

Simply because he was not there.

She rubbed her eyes one more time, stretching her hands out, making sure she was awake.

Or alive.

While stretching, her hand felt something with edges, on top of Richard's pillow.

Her heart sunk to her feet.

She had seen enough movies to know what that meant.

Refusing to believe this was happening to her, she hesitantly picked the thing up and pulled it closer to her face.

A piece of paper – branded hotel paper, so the profiler in her excluded premeditation of this vicious act; folded neatly in two, in two perfectly equal pieces, fitting perfectly on top of each other, becoming one. God knows what that metaphor reminded her of.

Her breathing suddenly became a little less controlled, a little more harsh.

A little bit hectic.

A lot harder to handle.

Quite impossible to survive.

Emily was freaking out, experiencing new scares, feelings that she had never experienced before.

Emily Prentiss was a creature of habit. She had a schedule and she would always stick to it. The only unexpected things she ever enjoyed in life were surprise birthday parties or last-minute get-togethers with her friends. That was it. That was _all_ the surprises she liked in life. Anything else, that was out of the ordinary, she hated with the passion of a thousand burning hearts.

Lauren Reynolds was the one who was good at surprises. Her lifeline was a big surprise, itself. Everything she did, everything she had to handle, was a huge surprise that would slap her across the face at any given time. And Lauren would handle herself like a pro – she would stay calm and collected, she would have the balls to stand up to this surprise, to overcome those new negative feelings and to just handle things, like a boss lady.

Too bad Lauren was practically gone, leaving a confused Emily to handle everything on her own.

It took her more than a minute to study the paper. It was white and blank on the outside and she could only hope it would be blank on the inside too.

It wasn't.

* * *

"Henry, roll!" Garcia said cheerfully.

They were now back at JJ's house, after spending the afternoon in search of the best ice-cream place in town.

"Garcia, he's not a dog." JJ laughed, loving the way Garcia played with her kids, but also, not always understanding their games.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Garcia said awkwardly, but then saw Henry rolling happily on the rug in the living room.

"See? He likes it!" She added triumphantly. "Here, I'll give you a treat." She pulled an individually wrapped cookie from her Mary Poppins bag and handed it to the child.

"Still, not a dog, Garcia!" JJ rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh.

"JJ?" Will called out from the kid's room, having trouble putting little Mikey to bed.

"Excuse me." She said to Garcia and prayed to God she wouldn't find her, half an hour later, teaching Henry how to bark or walk on four feet.

Will left JJ with Mikey, under the pretense that he had requested that his mommy would read him a bedtime story.

But Will was a detective. A good one, at that.

He had a strategy.

Once he joined Garcia and Henry downstairs, he sat down and started to play with them, making small talk with Garcia until…there it was.

"So, how's JJ been at work lately?" He asked, super casually.

But Garcia was smarter.

"What's on your mind?" She hit him back with a question. "I've been spending the majority of my time around profilers. I can tell by now when someone is fishing for information. So, what's wrong? Spill it."

Will rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe this blew up in his face.

"She's been a bit…absent-minded lately. Like, she wouldn't enjoy doing the things she loved doing before. She's only ever genuine around the kids and when they are not around, she's just quiet and distant. Which makes me wonder – is she even genuine with them? Or is she putting up a show, to not make them suspicious about anything? Or is it a show for me?" He spoke quietly, because he knew JJ, after two kids, had the abnormal ability to hear anything, from any distance.

Garcia thought for a moment. She knew exactly when JJ had changed and she knew exactly _why_ she had changed. And that was…classified.

"I can't say much…" Garcia started off.

"Of course, I get that. I already figured out it has to do with a case. It started like a month or so ago. And it must have to do with Prentiss, because the mere mention of her always puts JJ in a bad mood. I mean, it was obvious to everyone, what happened at Rossi's barbeque…" He trailed off, knowing that everybody at the table was faking ignorance, yet, every single one of them knew that JJ had just had a major meltdown in the bathroom.

"Well, I can only say you are right about your assumptions. But I can't say anything more. Mainly because I don't _know_ anything more." She shrugged.

Henry was now in the kitchen, heating himself a glass of milk and stealing a few oreos since nobody was paying attention to him and he thought he could get away with that.

"I'm worried about her. She hasn't been eating much, she speaks less than usual and she has that scary blank stare, like she is looking at you, but she is not even present at that moment. And I know how much pressure the job comes with. I just want to know whether I should get help for her, or maybe do something to help her myself?" He suggested.

"No, no. Getting help would be way out of line, even if you are her husband." There was so much truth to Garcia's words. "I guess the only thing you could do is to be there for her. Maybe try to talk to her more? Do things with her, take her out. I'll be happy to babysit for the kids if you two want to spend some time alone."

"I tried getting her out of the house, but each time she found a different excuse and shut me down." He shrugged.

"I just hope things will go back to normal from tomorrow." Garcia fixed the pillow from behind her, as if the sofa was the source of her discomfort.

"Oh yeah, Prentiss is coming back tomorrow." He stated, remembering that their mandatory week off was now done.

"Presumably…" Garcia muttered to herself, already planning on ways to track Emily down and go slap her, in case she didn't come back.

"Uh, Mikey's asleep." JJ stood by the door, awkwardly trying to butt in the conversation.

Neither JJ nor Will knew exactly how long she had been standing there for.

* * *

The moment Emily saw words, written on the inside of the paper, tears started rolling down her cheeks. Big, salty tears. Heavy tears. Sincere tears.

_Hi…_

_I don't know how to do this…_

_I just know that I have to do this…_

_I spent seven days with you – seven days of Heaven…and seven days of Hell._

_This was never how it was supposed to happen…_

_I never meant to find myself writing on this piece of paper, at night, while watching you sleep._

_And God, you look so peaceful and beautiful when you sleep._

_I can hear your breathing._

_I can see your chest rising up as you breathe in._

_I can see that tiny smile on your lips right now…_

_Your hand just extended to my side of the bed._

_But I'm not there._

_I cannot be there…_

_Although, I want to be there. Tonight. And every night after it._

_It is just not fair to you._

_Like it is not fair to me, knowing that in the morning, all of this would be over._

_Us._

_Whatever that is._

_Over!_

_I tried to fall asleep, I did._

_I failed at it._

_I just couldn't find enough peace to close my eyes and shut my mind._

_There was this constant reminder that you will be gone._

_And I didn't know when._

_In the morning?_

_After lunch?_

_Before dinner?_

_After you made me fall even harder for you?_

_Before or after you would break my heart?_

_I know I'm being selfish._

_I spent the last two hours, thinking of ways to put my thoughts into words._

_I don't know how to explain to you what I feel…_

_The one thing I'm sure of is that I refuse to live another day with that overwhelming fear that, if I lose you out of sight for just a second, you might be gone._

_I hate that thought._

_You are good at leaving. You've always been perfectly honest about that._

_But I'm very bad at letting people leave. I guess I never told you that._

_My bad._

_Je suis désolé, ma petite chérie._

_I could only hope that you, being left, would hurt a little less than me, having to leave you._

_I know I'm never going to see your face again._

_I'm never going to touch you again._

_I'm never kissing those lips again._

_I'm never going to hear your voice and all those silly things you say, ever again._

_I thought I would be okay with that._

_I knew this whole fantasy had an expiry date._

_But the closer we came to it, the harder I found it to come to terms with what would happen next._

_I'm an egoist._

_But so are you._

_I want you to hate me._

_I want you to think back of this week and have all the regrets in the world…_

_Because the other option would be being stuck with the overwhelming desire for it to have been real._

_And, trust me, that sucks._

_I'm sorry…_

_I don't want to fall in love with Lauren Reynolds!_

_Richard, comme le patisserie_

On the bottom right corner, she found a few numbers, scribbled in a hurry, with hesitation marks left from the pen, as if the person who wrote them was doubting whether to do so or not. The rest of the letter was written with precision, in a beautiful cursive, one that she would have never guessed belonged to a man.

She was, by the end of the letter, panting. Unable to breathe.

Emily had never felt a pain like this before.

Her head tilted back, hitting the headboard hard, but that kind of pain did not even get registered by her neurons. Her heart was the one suffering the actual pain and it was more than she could handle.

As harsh as this first read was, she knew that he didn't mean any harm. And yet, he had caused her so much pain.

She licked her lips, suddenly feeling them dry and aching. The taste of him was still there. But he was not.

And then she noticed another piece of paper, on the bedside table, on Richard's side of the bed. She grabbed it and it was a ticket back to America. Well, at least he didn't leave her to fend for herself, like he had left this other woman he had told her about.

And yet, she hated him.

Then again.

She did not.


	36. That's Not What We Signed Up For

**CHAPTER 36**

_**THAT'S NOT WHAT WE SIGNED UP FOR**_

_"__RISE AND SHINE!"_ Dan's annoying voice sounded over the loudspeakers at exactly 5 am on Monday morning.

"I told you so!" Bryan laughed, since he had warned Angela this was going to happen.

"I miss those times when you were too sleepy to be a smart ass in the morning." She hissed at him, throwing her pillow across the room and completely missing his bed.

Dan gave them instructions on what to do and at 5:30 am everyone was at the Auditorium.

They were introduced to photos of a few new instructors, or _teachers_, as they liked to call them. It sounded a little less formal. A little less scary.

He went over their weekly schedule, as if they couldn't have read it themselves.

"This is pointless." Angie sighed, being over Dan by this point.

Then came the surprise. As promised, they were going to re-take the hurdle race in their third week. And today was the day.

As previously instructed, they were all wearing their active wear.

None of them was happy to hear about their assignment. Moreover, because it did not automatically mean that PFT training after that would be canceled.

As everyone stood up and started thinking of their mental strength strategy for the race, Angela and Bryan got called to the back of the Auditorium, by that young guy who had supervised their exam the previous day.

He informed them that Angela's results had been looked over and that 73 % was the final test score she had obtained.

She was not buying it.

"Wait, I left my water bottle under my desk." She told Bryan as he was heading straight to the exit.

As she grabbed it, they made a stop at the bathroom to refill their bottles before the run.

Bryan didn't like to drink a lot before exercising. He'd prefer to drink afterwards. But Angela preferred to be hydrated both before and after training. And also, during.

They got called to the track and divided into groups. A huge bunch of Trainees got pulled aside and told that they would be doing the race on the following day.

"Yo, that's literally the same people they had excused the other time. Remember?" She pointed out to Bryan, remembering a few of the faces.

"No." He shrugged.

"At training! Ugh! How can you not remember? It's already been twice, and this is the third time, that we get split in half and one part of us is told they would be doing the exercise later." Angie looked around the other group of people. "Some people are missing and they're not in our group right now. So, where are they? Like, this guy with the scar under his left ear. Or the girl who always wears braids. I haven't seen them these days."

"How about we focus on the race and not on the competition, huh? We have a title to protect, Champion!" Bryan smirked and waited for her to give him a high five.

"Don't drink that." He pulled her water bottle away from her lips, right before she would drink. "You won't feel any better. You'll just need to pee halfway through the race. Trust me on this one. Try doing this without any water."

Angie shrugged and decided to trust him.

"Goddamn it!" Dan groaned from the distance when he saw her put the bottle down, without even taking a sip.

"Plans gone wrong, Chief?" The young Agent teased him, standing a few feet away.

"Shut up Kris, and go _make_ her drink!" Dan commanded and, unfortunately for him, the first whistle was heard, indicating that all Trainees had to go to the Start line.

"Well, I already did my part. It's _your_ part that failed miserably." Kris said innocently. He loved pushing Dan's buttons, now that he was no longer a Trainee himself.

"Damn it, she's going to crush this now." Dan folded his hands unhappily.

Halfway through the race, Angie and Bryan were not even among the first twenty people. They had their own game-plan.

"Need help?" Bryan called out, intentionally staying behind when they reached the ropes climbing phase, the one where Angela had fallen from in their first attempt of the race. The one where Bryan had grabbed her butt, even if only with the intention to support her and to push her up.

"Nope!" She said proudly. "I got this!"

Her hands wrapped around the rope and she used all of her newly-acquired strength to pull herself up, all the way to the top, without struggling or wobbling around, not even for a second.

"That's my girl!" He whispered to himself before he quickly climbed the rope himself and met her on the other side of the wooden fence after making a jump from the top of it, landing in a puddle of mud.

"Is it time?" She asked as they looked around, trying to mentally remember this part of the race.

According to their memory, they were about two-thirds into the race, if they were now at the point where they had to swing on those huge military truck tires, across a pond and then crawl under razor wire without shredding themselves into pieces.

"Yes." He nodded at her and soon they were among the first 15 people in the race.

After the wire obstacle, they were among the top ten.

"This feels so good!" She smirked, loving the adrenaline that was pumping in her veins, each time they ran past another Trainee, leaving them behind.

When they were fifth in line, Angie extended her hand to him.

"No, this one is all yours. You deserve this." He tried to reason with her.

"Yeah, yeah." She grabbed his hand anyway. "That's what you said last time. And I still dragged your ass through that finish line with me."

And she did quite the same thing this time, as well.

"Goddamnit!" Dan was more than pissed off, when he saw them sprint ahead in the last few seconds and then finish the race first, holding hands one more time.

Angie kept on walking, trying to calm down her beating heart. Bryan was one step behind her. She didn't have to say it, but she was always going to make good on her promise to go through all of the highs and the lows of the Academy, together with him.

* * *

It took Emily an hour to get to a state where she could control her muscles, at least enough to be able to stand up and get dressed.

With dried tears on her eyes, and fresh new ones threatening to fall down each time she blinked, she busied herself by packing the few things that she had taken out of her suitcase the night before.

For a long moment, she contemplated whether she should bring the note with her, or maybe set it on fire and watch it burn, like the sensation her heart was experiencing at that moment.

She opted for the first option, mainly because she wasn't keen on finding out if the smoke detectors and the sprinklers in the hotel were functioning to their full potential.

She stuck the note in a sock, because this was the worst she could treat this poor piece of paper.

With a second glance at the plane ticket, she realized it was time for her to head over to the airport. She also saw that her destination was New York City, and yet, she had never mentioned any specific city to Richard. Maybe he chose it randomly? French people loved New York.

Without a phone, she was unable to check whether there was a connecting flight to where she needed to go, ultimately. She could have asked the front desk of the hotel for some help, but she didn't want to spend another second in that hotel. Or in that country. Or in that kind of pain.

She hailed herself a taxi and asked to be taken to the airport. She paid with the little cash she had on her, as she was fully aware that there was a pink monster back home, just waiting for her to swipe that credit card, so she could breach her privacy. Not that _this_ was what she cared about, at this moment.

The first thing she did at the airport was to leave her check-in luggage and to grab her essentials in her bag. Then, she was in desperate need of a pair of sunglasses. Dark ones, so she could hide behind them and cry all the way back to the US.

She refused to eat anything. Food was not what she was hungry for. She only had a coffee, but that didn't wake her up from her nightmare. It only made it worse – showing her that she was, indeed, awake and that _this_ was now her new reality.

Her flight got announced and she found out she was traveling business class – comfortable seats that could turn into beds, special menu for both lunch and dinner, complimentary gadgets.

She sighed, wanting none of that.

The one thing she liked about her flying arrangements was that there was nobody in close proximity to her, so nobody would witness her break down, be weak.

She could not sleep. Every time she tried to close her eyes and to force herself to fight that jet-lag, she found it hard to not see images of him.

She fought that for as long as she could. Until she got sick of fighting and just let it take control over her.

She leaned back and let it all hit her. It ultimately pointed to one thing - her egoism for leaving people. Had she hurt people _this_ much when she left them? She surely knew she had hurt people, but _knowing_ pain and _experiencing_ it were two completely different concepts.

She drew parallels between the most significant time in her life, when she had left someone, and the current situation where she had found herself being the one left behind.

Both scenarios were different. The feelings were different. The love was different. The circumstances were different.

Yet, the pain was the same.

She put herself in the shoes of the other person, imagining them cry uncontrollably, realizing that they had been left by her. And that broke her heart even more, if that was even possible.

There was now an image of that person, crawled into a ball, crying their eyes out and possibly even blaming themselves for what had just happened to them. Another parallel to the current situation – Emily was, once again, blaming herself, even when she found herself to be the one left.

And yet, somehow she put her own feelings aside, and concentrated on the person she had left, all those years ago.

She could see their face clearly. She had never seen them so broken, so sad. Their face had previously been shining like the sun, always happy, full of hope, oozing positivity and life. How could she do this to them? How could she leave? How could she break them so badly?

She put one hand over her eyes as she continued to cry.

And then she also considered the pain she had caused to her team, when she had left them. But that was nothing, compared to how much she had broken that other person, the one with a face as bright as sunshine, eyes full of sparkles and fragile body, full of life. Life that she had forced them to live, without her in it.

* * *

When their hearts started beating at normal pace again, both Angie and Bryan stopped walking and sat down, grabbing their water bottles.

"_Now_ you can drink." He said, knowing that she must be parched. He had noticed how much water Angie usually drank, at any given time.

Their PFT would start in about half an hour, so they went to grab breakfast first.

Angie was really bubbly and cheerful at first, but then she started stuttering and her hands started shaking as she picked up her cup of coffee.

Bryan was keeping an eye on her. Maybe it was just the adrenaline from the race.

When they left the cafeteria, he noticed her almost limping, like she didn't have much balance as she walked.

They got to the outdoors training area and started to warm up.

Their trainer started showing them the things they had to do that morning and Angela wasn't even looking at him. Her gaze was to the ground, empty.

The first round of exercise started and it was push-ups and abs work out. Angie pretended, for as long as she could, that she was alright.

"I need medical help." At one point, she turned to Bryan and whispered.

Right after that, she collapsed.

"Wow, hey. Angie?" He tried pinching her cheeks, but she wouldn't open her eyes.

"Help! She needs a doctor." He called out, freaked out to be standing by her non-responsive body.

As if Dan was lurking around the corner, he ran over to them immediately.

"Move." Dan nudged Bryan, but he wouldn't move an inch.

"I said, get out of my way!" Dan said rudely.

"No. You said _Move_. And it did not work." Bryan replied back. Angie's bad ass attitude was rubbing off on him. She would have been proud.

Dan tried to give him an intimidating look, but that did not work as well.

"I'm not leaving you here to murder her!" Bryan stated, hovering on top of Angela protectively.

"Murder?" Dan raised an eyebrow. "What the Hell are you talking about?"

"We have a doctor here!" One of the Trainees called out, since someone had already called for help.

It was a good thing that most of their PFTs were attended by a person from the FBI's medical staff, just in case someone needed help.

A paramedic ran over to them and sat down, besides Angela, forcing both Bryan and Dan out of the way.

After an initial check, the woman decided that Angela needed a more serious intervention, so she called for an ambulance to come over.

"Ambulance?" Bryan was beyond freaked out. "Dude, she was just feeling so good and then we ate and then she, ugh, oh God."

"Were you with her when she collapsed?" The paramedic asked.

"Yes, I haven't left her side since yesterday. Or, well, since the first day of the Academy." He corrected himself.

"You're riding with us to the hospital." The woman stated and they waited for the ambulance to come.

It took Bryan all of his power not to faint once he got into the ambulance, a few minutes later. As its doors closed, he felt like his soul left his body. His eyes closed and he panicked even more, his mind taking him to a dark place, one he never wanted to be reminded of.

"What's your name?" The paramedic asked him.

"Brya-Bryan." He stuttered.

"Well then, Bryan…" The woman said softly. "I'm gonna need you to calm down and breathe, before I get to sign two fainted people into the ER."

He realized he was being a coward, but something was haunting him. He was Bryan, but she wasn't Angela.

His hand subconsciously laid on Angela's stomach as he tried to catch his breathing.

"Wait!" The paramedic exclaimed, watching this little scene. "Is she pregnant?"

"Obviously!" Bryan replied rudely.

"And she's in the FBI Academy?" She asked, baffled about the parody of it.

The paramedic lifted Angela's shirt up and looked at the girl's stomach. She found no obvious sign of pregnancy – no bump, no abnormal skin elasticity. However, she decided to believe Bryan. Maybe she was just not showing yet?

His hand now rested on Angela's bare stomach and his eyes were closed, through all the ride.

"Please, don't leave me." He begged. "Please, Kimberly, I love you. Both of you. Please, don't leave me. I love you so much. Please!"

The paramedic gave him a concerned look. From what she could gather, the girl's name was Angela, not Kimberly. And she was, at least visibly, not pregnant.

The woman pulled out a syringe and grabbed a few mils of something before she plunged it into Bryan's hand, hoping she would have hit a good vein.

And she had.

It took him a few seconds to absorb the substance before he opened his eyes and felt lightheaded.

The woman supported his weight, allowing him to fall against a cushioned seat before she put a belt on him and was finally able to tend to Angela, since Bryan was now sound asleep.

"What the Hell do those Trainees go through these days?" The paramedic shook her head.

She was on call, working a few shifts per week at the FBI main building, but she had been covering for a colleague on the Academy campus that day. She had no idea the stress and emotional torture that Trainees were under, 24/7.

In the hospital, Angela was signed into the ER, while Bryan received a nice little stretcher, at the end of a hallway, since he was not an urgent patient. Or a patient at all. He was just, well, sedated.

The paramedic had signed Angela's admittance form, putting down the information about a possible pregnancy, along with both names she had heard her being called. From that point on, it was up to the medical staff of the hospital to treat her.

Ten minutes after Angie was admitted, Dan rushed in, with Kris and Jack by his side.

"You're an idiot, dude." Kris told Jack, slapping his shoulder.

"Dude, I just did what Dan told me to do!" Jack shrugged, rubbing his shoulder.

"Oh yeah? Then why is my Trainee in a hospital, huh? How much did you give her?" Dan waved his hands in the air frantically.

"One spritz, that's what you said!" Jack shrugged innocently before he remembered something. "Well, it was very loud, as everyone was talking. When Angela and Bryan went over to Kris, I took her water bottle and sprayed, but I didn't hear it spray. So I figured the spray must have malfunctioned, so I sprayed again and this time I heard it. Then I left."

"You _figured_!?" Dan was now yelling on top of his lungs. "You better believe that if something happens to her, you can figure yourself _FIRED_!"

Jack frowned, but there was nothing he could say in his defense, guilty as he was.

"Hey, calm down. Both of you." Kris pushed Dan further away, scared that he might punch Jack out.

The three of them spent the next hour, nervously pacing up and down the halls, waiting for information.

After the first hour, Angela was being moved to a room upstairs, which showed that it was more serious than they could have imagined. Then the guys started pacing around a corridor upstairs, near the room where they saw her stretcher being rolled into.

Bryan was still left in the hallway at the ER and nobody really noticed him being there. A nurse had the job of keeping an eye on him, as the injection he had been given would wear off in about two hours and someone had to be there to tell him what had happened and why he was on a stretcher.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" Dan hissed at a female who was now walking towards them.

"Come on now. You know she can't see you." Jack commented too and earned himself a very icy glare from the woman.

"What have you done to Angie?" She asked softly, her eyes trying to figure out which door lead to Angela's room.

"She's over there, the one with the chart by the door." Kris pointed out. "And the guys are right – you can't be here."

"I don't care what you all say. She doesn't deserve to end up here. You should have been more careful." She was visibly upset, pacing around, playing with her hands in her hair and muttering inaudible insults.

"Hey, come on. I didn't mean for this to happen." Jack walked over to the woman, trying to offer her a hug.

"So it was _you_ who did this? God, I promise you – if she doesn't kill you, I freaking will!" Her hands bumped against his chest accusingly until she finally gave in and leaned into his body, enwrapped in his arms.

Jack kissed her forehead lovingly and held her close to him, feeling her shiver.

"I don't want anything bad happening to her. That's not what we signed up for." The woman whispered in Jack's ear and his reply was simple – one more kiss on her forehead and a tighter grip on her shivering body.

A doctor then came over and asked if anyone was Angela's family. Everyone shrugged and Dan informed the doctor that he was her training officer, but he was still not granted access to her room, nor any information, other than the fact that she had not woken up yet.

"You need to go." Kris walked over to Jack, but he directed his words to the woman in his arms.

"Guys, please, fix this. Or else, I'm coming for you!" She said threateningly before she walked over to the elevator and disappeared.

* * *

Emily opened her eyes after a really rough landing, realizing that she had managed to fall asleep. She was glad to have been able to doze off, as the flight would have been excruciatingly painful if she had continued to cry like a baby. Either that, or she could have suffered an actual heart failure, mid-flight.

When she was at the Arrivals area of JFK airport, she started feeling something new. Something was rising up from inside of her. Before she knew it, she was making a run for the closest bathroom, forgetting all about her luggage claim.

Her hair was tied in a messy bun, which allowed her to crumble on top of a toilet before she got sick. There was a doubt in her head – was this sickness due to the rough landing? Or was it due to all the nerves?

"Bad flyer?" A random woman offered Emily a smile when she walked out of her stall.

Small talk was the last thing she wanted.

"Bad _person_." She stated icily before splashing cold water on her face and leaving.

_"__Welcome to New York City, where the time is-…"_ An announcement on the radio speaker could be heard and Emily rolled her eyes.

"The Hell with New York City, your damned time and local temperatures!" She hissed grumpily, finally walking over to the luggage claim.

Half an hour later she realized that her luggage never came out.

"The Hell with your damned airport support as well." She added to her previous grumpy statement.

Everything was getting on her nerves. She hated being back home, even if she was still miles away from her actual home.

The US was depressing her, and yet she consoled herself with the thought that she wouldn't feel any happier if she had stayed in France either, not under the current circumstances.

With only just her handbag, she walked over to a ticket counter, asking for connecting flights.

Given that her flight from France had landed at 3 o'clock at night, local time, she had to wait for another hour for the next available flight.

This time, she did not have enough money to pay cash, so she had no other choice but to swipe her card. She also had to pay it salty, last minute, but at least there was a seat still available on that flight.


	37. If She Doesn't - Have My Badge And Gun

**CHAPTER 37**

_**IF SHE DOESN'T - HAVE MY BADGE AND GUN!**_

Garcia opened her eyes at around half past three o'clock at night, at the sound of a new notification. After so many false alarms, she must have lost all hope by now. But she hadn't.

_New credit card activity: Lauren Reynolds_

Garcia squealed so loud that she wondered if JJ and Will could hear her, all the way from the guest room.

She checked what had been purchased and sighed with relief when she found out it was a ticket back home.

"My Wonder Woman is coming back!" She whispered to herself, allowing a small genuine smile to appear on her sleepy face before she put her phone down and dozed off one more time.

* * *

Bryan had woken up and, after a short argument with a nurse, he was now headed off to the floor where Angela had been taken.

Dan managed to spot him out from a far, and he made a gesture for Jack and Kris to disappear, which they did, immediately.

Bryan walked right past Dan, on his way to the desk, demanding to have information about Amanda.

"I'm her husband!" He stated when asked about his connection to the girl.

Dan was about to say something dumb, but when he saw the doctor was willing to let Bryan in, he decided to stay quiet.

Bryan entered the room and she was still asleep. He sat by her side and saw her hooked on a system, looking tired and weak.

He tried really hard not to freak out one more time, as he knew he had to be there for her. For Angela.

He was only allowed to be there for a few minutes before the doctor asked him to go back to the waiting lounge.

"How is she?" Dan asked, as soon as Bryan walked out.

"I don't think you get to ask this question." Bryan was being extremely hostile towards him lately.

At least Angela had been a bit more reserved with her hatred and her words.

"Look, I know you hate me, but I am still your training officer and if someone here has the right to know how this girl is, it's me." Dan tried to argue, but Bryan wasn't having any of his bullshit.

"Oh yeah?" Without giving it any thought, Bryan grabbed Dan by the collar and walked him backwards, until his spine hit a wall. "You're probably the reason why she's here in the first place!"

"Hey, hey. Calm down." Dan put his hands in the air, showing him surrender. The last thing he wanted was to aggravate Bryan to the point where he would later on have to be sanctioned about something irrational he might do.

Too late.

Bryan swung his fist and gave Dan a nice, firm, side cheek punch before he let go of him.

Dan lost his balance and ended up hitting the ground sideways, with his right butt cheek crashing against the cold floor tiles.

In a moment of rage, Bryan swung one more time, this time an unfair one, as Dan was already on the ground, knocked out.

"Don't!" Dan called out and something about the way he said it made Bryan pull his fist away.

"Just don't!" Dan said, this time a little more softly, as if he was doing this to protect Bryan.

"Is there a problem?" A security guard walked over to where their little scene had unraveled.

"No, Sir." Dan stood up, patting dust off his pants.

The guard looked at Bryan, who seemed a bit less sure that they had no problem.

"We're fine." Bryan said grumpily, already contemplating on taking the guard out too, if he dared ask one more question.

The man walked away, but kept an eye on those two for as long as they stayed at the hospital for.

* * *

Angie opened her eyes and looked around. This was not her first trip to a hospital, but this time she didn't know why she was there. She searched for the emergency button and she pushed it.

A doctor and two nurses walked in her room, seconds later.

"What's wrong with me?" She asked weakly, feeling a certain soreness in her muscles.

"It's nothing serious, Kimberly. You'll be okay." The doctor reassured her.

"You're also not pregnant." A nurse added, as they had run blood tests, to confirm or deny the suspicion.

"I know!" Angie said defensively. "I'm also not Kimberly." She loved a good word play.

"Angela?" The doctor asked, after reading that as an alternative name on her chart.

"Bingo." She winked at him.

"It turns out you have been exposed to some type of a poison, more like a sedative really, but a bit more powerful." The doctor started telling her and she sighed.

"Have you been experiencing any sudden nausea?" He asked and she nodded. "Well, this is due to the consumption of this substance. As far as we can tell, you have been exposed to this three, maybe four times already. Now, can you recall eating anything out of the ordinary? Maybe you changed your take-away preferences lately? Or did you go to a club where you suspect someone might have spiked your drink?"

Angie rolled her eyes. She knew exactly who had spiked her damned drink.

"Yeah, I had sushi." She said lamely, just wanting him to shut up and leave her alone.

* * *

Bryan stopped giving dirty looks to Dan only at the moment when they both saw the three people rushing into Angie's room.

Bryan walked over to the room and stood by the door, hoping he'd be able to overhear something. Dan, however, walked over to the far end of the hallway, in search of the vending machines, which turned out to be on the floor above theirs.

When the two nurses left Angie's room, he tried to get information out of them, but failed to do so.

He knew that the doctor was still in there and he was curious to know what was going on.

The nurses were useless and clearly not easy to corrupt. So Bryan had no other choice but to go search for Dan and ask for his help, or rather – ask for him to flash his badge and demand answers.

He figured Dan would have wandered off to go buy himself a coffee, so he asked someone where the vending machines were. When he walked up the stairs to the upper floor, he found Dan talking to a tall man in a black suit.

"I told you to _push_ her, not to _crack_ her!" The tall man said, physically pushing Dan around the room, as if he was a naughty child.

"Of course. Let everyone blame me. Why not?" Dan said lamely before he finally moved far away from this man's hands, before he would get himself thrown out of the window.

"I don't want her to suffer. That's not the point. How could you be so careless? I told you it was a bad idea to have _two_ this year. I should have never agreed to your dumb plan. I only needed one, male or female. But just one!" The man swung against Dan one more time, but this time Dan stood up for himself.

"I stand by my decision! I never meant for her to end up this way. But mark my words – she is going to bounce back and she is going to give everyone a run for their money! I can promise you that. And if she doesn't, then you can have my badge and my gun!" Dan stated, sure of himself.

"You can't seriously be gambling your job on a Trainee." The man laughed in his face.

"Not a Trainee!" Dan crossed his hands against his chest. "Two of them! My chosen ones!"

"You are being ridiculous. She's a child, for God's sake, she wears a freaking bow in her hair like it's the 70's! She danced her ass off for all Agents to see, on her first night at the Academy! She giggles in class and disobeys direct orders. She publicly made a fool out of you after your little test results stunt. I think it's time to pull the plug on this little experiment." The man said rudely.

"She also finished the race first. Twice. She also never backed down during class, even if it meant keeping a throw up bucket next to her head while doing push-ups. She also took extra books from the library and spent her evenings not drinking with her pals, but reading on a broken bench, squinting her eyes under the most obnoxiously girly lamp in the world. Not to mention, she also gave me an actual 99% on her overall exam at the end of week two. She also never put anyone down, not even Jack, whom she hates and blames for Amanda's death. She also made a promise to her friend and she has been helping him find his voice in the Academy since the moment she met him. She also has an amazing spirit and intellect, one that no other 23 year old girl possesses. She also doesn't give a crap what you think about her dancing, because that said silly carefree thing she did was also the reason why a whole bunch of your old ass pals got up from their seats and had the best time they've had in years – dancing and drinking with people they haven't even met before. She's also the most stubborn little asshole in the world. She is also the one I chose this year and the one I'm going to keep on pushing until you see what I see in her." Dan went on a full-on rant, one that he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Oh, and also, mark my words, you will be sorry for doubting me. Also, I have to go." Dan added, grabbing his now cold cup of coffee from the machine and walking back over to the elevator.

"What the fu-…" Bryan muttered to himself, hiding by the stairs while Dan went the other direction.

He quickly made his way down the stairs before the elevator door opened and Dan would walk out on Angela's floor.

"Any news?" Dan asked, trying not to show any signs of irritation from his talk with his Superior.

Bryan looked at him intently. He noticed Dan's cheek was now swollen and red, from there his fist had landed. And, given what he had just heard Dan say, Bryan felt a little sorry for having acted out like that.

"No, they wouldn't say a thing. I thought you could try flashing the badge." He suggested quietly.

"This is not a movie. The badge would only work if-…" Dan then smirked, interrupting himself as he got an idea.

He saw the doctor walk out of Angie's room and he briefly spoke to another doctor, holding her chart, along with a few others.

"What do you see, Trainee?" Dan challenged him.

"Uh, a shift change. He's clearly updating him on everything before he would leave, so the new one would be ready to step in and do his rounds. This means that we won't be able to see her for at least another hour, until he finishes his rounds in all rooms and evaluates her state." Bryan groaned unhappily.

"And?" Dan urged him to dig deeper.

"Hmm, and it also means that this new doctor has no idea who we are. So, I guess this is quite like in the movies then. It's time to make our move!" Bryan said contently, but Dan pulled him back, as soon as he had taken his first step towards the door.

"Calm down, Rambo! You can't be all emotional about this." He rolled his eyes and stood in front of Bryan now.

"Follow my lead." Dan suggested as he walked, slowly but surely, towards her room.

"Sir, it's not visitation time…" The new doctor informed him, but Dan just put his hand in the air.

In his hand, his FBI badge and ID.

"We're with the FBI. We need to talk to our witness, Angela Hunter." He said with authority before placing his badge back in the picket of his pants.

"Oh…" The doctor looked at the door and then back at the two men. Dan was wearing plain clothes, while Bryan was in his clean sports attire. He had changed after the race, thankfully. None of them looked like FBI to him, but he didn't want to challenge them. "Sure, she's uh, she's in this room."

They walked in and Angela sighed.

"So, what? You two are best friends now?" She said, shooting a mean glance at both of them.

Bryan made a hand gesture for her to shut up.

"What happened to you?" Bryan asked.

'Someone…" She shot a mean glance, this time only to Dan. "_Someone_ has decided it would be real fun to poison me."

Dan looked away.

"Wait, _you_ did that?" Bryan was now confused.

First, Dan had been distant, but nice, for the first few days of the Academy. Then, he turned into an asshole. Then he was acting shady. Then, as soon as Angie ended up in a hospital, he turned out to be one of the good guys, maybe. And now, he was back to being guilty.

Yes, this was looking more and more like a movie.

"I cannot discuss that with you two." Dan shrugged.

"Why not?" Angie pushed it.

"Just, trust me, I can't tell you anything!" Dan spoke and Bryan heard the same softness in his voice as when he had asked him not to punch him earlier.

What if he wasn't the enemy after all? In every movie there was the villain, but in order to find his true identity, the viewers were being offered a few red herrings along the way.

"Did you mean to hurt me?" She asked softly.

"No." Dan brought his hand to her face and caressed it, no matter how unprofessional that must have looked.

It was the only way to show her that he was being genuine.

"Okay." She exhaled and it looked like she was done with all this drama. She also shrieked away from his touch, as she was not a fan of physical contact.

"_Okay_? Just like that? He's off the hook?" Bryan raised an eyebrow.

"Yup." She said genuinely. "I don't waste my time by holding a grudge. Plus, if he turns out to be lying, I can always haunt his ass and make him regret it later on. But for now, I need to throw up."

The last bit of her statement caught them off-guard. The doctor had told her that the only way to get rid of the substance was to force herself to be sick. And given that she was already feeling the nausea naturally, she didn't have to force anything.

She walked to the bathroom after unplugging the system from her arm. It made her look sicker than she actually was. She found it to be quite annoying, too.

When she walked back to the room five minutes later, her hair was all messy and her face was wet and white.

Dan looked away. He didn't want to see her like that.

Bryan held her in a hug and helped her sit back up on the bed.

The doctor walked in the room, as he had gotten a notification for the unplugged system. He poked her hand one more time, this time making sure it would be harder for her to get the needle out. He informed her that, if she wanted to go home by the evening, she'd have to stay there for a couple more hours, with that thing hooked to her vein.

Angela rolled her eyes and hated hearing that, but she was eager to go sleep in her own bed that night. Mostly, she was hoping she would be able to catch at least the end of their afternoon lecture, before she would go back to her dorm.

* * *

"Richard?" Someone desperately tried to get him to listen.

"Richard? Es-tu sourd?" The man insisted, asking if he was deaf.

"What? What do you want from me?" Richard finally replied, after two whole minutes of failed attempts to get his attention.

"I wanted to discuss-…" The other man said.

Both of them spoke in French.

"Is it urgent?" Richard raised an eyebrow.

"No…"

"Does it have to be resolved _today_?" He asked again.

"N-no…"

Without saying one more word, the man knew he had to disappear. And he did just that. He had seen Richard mad and there was no way he'd put himself in danger, by being the reason for his fury.

But this was not the end of his troubles.

"Oui?" He answered his phone grumpily.

"Yes, I already took care of the delivery." He continued.

"Like I just said a second ago – I took care of it." He repeated after, presumably, the person on the other side of the line had questioned his words.

A few seconds later, he rolled his eyes at what he was being told.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? Do you know who you're talking to?" He challenged.

"Good. Because I don't have any time to waste. Have a good day." With those words he hung up and sighed.

A second later, someone else was entering his office.

"Sir, we need your signature on-…" A woman said kindly.

He looked up at her. She was quite tall, with short blonde hair. No fringe. She was no Lauren Reynolds.

"Show me." He interrupted her.

It took him seconds to skim through the papers before he signed them.

"Make sure you're careful with that." He pointed at a passage from the legal papers he was just given. "It could backfire, thread carefully."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." The woman said, excusing herself and disappearing.

"Ugh…" He exhaled, once he thought he was alone in his office.

"Sir, I-…" Someone else just poked their head in the crack of his office door.

"I don't care!" Richard hissed.

He was known to have a short temper, but only when the moment asked for it.

And every moment, since the moment he had written a certain note to a certain dark-haired woman, whom he felt a certain type of way for; he found himself unable to support people, being around him.

All he wanted was some silence. Peace and silence. Maybe then he'd actually be able to relax, to forget what he had been forced to do.

"Sir, it is kind of urgent…" The man dared continue.

"Fine. What is it?"

"It's Claus…"

"Yes, he's in Prague. Marie is joining him tomorrow." Richard said calmly.

"No, Sir…He's in Bratislava." The guy said with a shrug. He seemed completely terrified by Richard.

"What the Hell is he doing in Bratislava?" Richard was amused.

Just a day ago he had personally overlooked Claus' documents. He had a ticket to and from Prague. He had left the previous night and he had to land early this morning, local time.

"Waiting for an autopsy…" The guy said hesitantly.

"Whose?" Richard was not convinced. This sounded weird.

"Uhm, _his_…" He finally came out and said it.

"What!? Claus is dead!? How the Hell did this happen? Why was he…when…what…ugh…"

"All due respect, Sir, but I think it's time we bring Annabelle back."

"No. No way! She's no longer with us. I can't risk her life, too." Richard shook his head. Over his dead body. This person was never stepping foot back into his web of complicated risky business.

"But, Sir…"

"No! Annabelle is off limits. End of discussion. You can show yourself out." Richard pointed at the door and the man was gone with the blink of an eye.

Richard was at the loss of words.

He picked up the phone and made a few angry calls, desperately trying to find out the truth.

In the end, it was confirmed – the man had been found dead, near the airport in Bratislava.

"I don't understand…" Richard shook his head. "Everything was perfect. I personally approved it all."

This complicated a lot of things for him.

"God, no. Not Claus. Why?" He muttered to himself, holding more documents in one hand and his phone, in the other.

"I take it you've heard…" Yet another man was there, to see Richard.

This one, however, seemed a lot less intimidated by the him. He even allowed himself to walk right into Richard's office and to take a seat, without being invited to do so. Nobody else had the guts to do such thing.

"Yeah. I'm trying to figure out what happened." Richard said, offering the man a comforting smile.

"All we know so far is that, for whatever reason, Claus went to Bratislava, instead of Prague. He used a fake name to buy a ticket." The man said.

"What name?"

"Simon…"

"Simon!? That's not a fake name. that's his _real_ name! What was he thinking? Is he out of his mind!?" Richard flipped out a bit.

"I know. It doesn't make sense."

"I've just e-mailed Marie, informing her that the whole thing is off." Richard said, looking at the screen of his computer.

"Oh? But she already left…"

"What do you mean? Her plane to Prague leaves late this evening."

"Yeah, she said goodbye to everyone this morning."

"Goodbye?" Richard raised an eyebrow.

"Oh…" The man realized how this whole thing was starting to look. "Are we being set up here?"

"God, I hope not. We've already lost one. There's no way I'm letting Marie go through with this, not on her own. Wait, let me try giving her a call again…"

As Richard picked up his phone, the other man put his hand over his, urging him to put it back down.

"She won't pick up. I had to talk to her about the details earlier and I called six times, but she never replied. Her phone is off since this morning." The man said.

All Richard could do was to shake his head in denial.

"And I guess we've already lost Marie, as well…" He muttered to himself, knowing very well how this type of complications usually ended.

This was his second day on the job, after his week with Lauren, and he was going insane. Everyone needed him, everything had to be done urgently and, to top it all, the one thing he had personally overlooked was now proving to be a huge fail.

"Where are you going?" The man asked, watching Richard stand up and grab his jacket.

"I have to find ways to tell a wife and a mother of two children, that her husband is dead. And then I have to pray that I wouldn't have to tell Marie's family something similar, too." Richard stated and he walked out.

He needed some fresh air. He needed to breathe. He needed to make sense of what had just happened.

He needed to calm down.

He needed an alternate universe in which everything was perfect, like it had seemed to be all week long.

He needed Lauren Reynolds.


	38. I Should Have Stayed Up There

** CHAPTER 38**

_**I SHOULD HAVE STAYED UP THERE**_

Emily's connecting flight had been quick, at least compared to the trans-ocean one before it, and the landing had been a lot smoother. She wished she could say the same about her mood. Or the transition to a much colder weather. Or the jet-lag.

Or reality.

Although, she wasn't sure which one of her so called "realities" sucked more at this point.

"I fucking hate life." She muttered when her key got stuck in the door, as she tried to enter her house.

After a whole night of traveling, all she wanted was a shower and her own bed.

She quickly realized that sleeping was not an option for her, for two reasons. One, because her body was convinced it was still noon, and not morning; and two, because it was 7:30 in the morning and she had a meeting with her team at 9 am. She regretted having set this meeting at this specific hour, but she could also not call and cancel it, not after she had been a ghost to everyone for a whole week.

She managed to take a shower and she avoided looking at the mirror. The few times she accidentally caught a glimpse of her face, she saw puffy red eyes, tired bags under those eyes, and eternal sadness, deep inside of these eyes. So, she took the brilliant decision to walk past the mirror with her eyes closed, which resulted in her tripping over the bathroom rug and hitting her forehead against the bathroom door.

"Yes, this is precisely why I hate life!" She commented to herself, raising one hand up to the right side of her forehead and swiping it.

Blood. Great. As if she had space for any more scars on her body – inside or outside.

She grabbed some Emily-style work clothes and changed quickly before she grabbed her car keys and went downstairs to get in her car.

There was a dent on it. A small dent, but it drove her insane. She would usually not give a crap about stuff like that, since she wasn't a fan of cars and she simply didn't care if hers was dirty, old or scratched. Rossi had to beg Emily to go get her car washed, on more occasions than he could count. Tara had offered fixing that bigger dent on the back of the car, from when Emily had backed into a tree, having no regrets at all, claiming that it was the only way to get out of her parking space, as the car in front of her had squished her in. _That_ was how much Emily Prentiss cared about her car. That and the fact that she would eat her fast food meals in it on a regular basis and the stench of French fries and the oily fingerprints on her dashboard had never bothered her. Although, thinking about it now, she'd consider fries' smell annoying, but that was only because they were French.

So, why was she getting so worked up over a small dent now?

After a brief investigation, she realized that a red car had scratched hers, as she found red paint near the dent.

Her most grown-up response to that was to grab a stone and smash it against the driver-side window of the only red car she saw parked near her, leaving a note, simply saying: KARMA.

She got in and hit the gas. Driving fast was her way of getting rid of pressure, although it was probably not the safest thing she could do when she was upset.

* * *

The BAU team members had made plans to go to work at 8 am that morning, giving themselves time to go around and tidy the place up, which was much wanted, especially in JJ's office. They didn't write that in the group chat, just in case Emily would read it. They wanted her to find the office neat and clean when she entered, so they kept it a surprise, having discussed it only face-to-face, the day before, at brunch.

Emily hadn't even had time to check her phone. It was still off, still on her bedside table. She would, later on, be glad that she did not read her messages or hear her voicemails before that meeting.

Garcia had barely waited for JJ to open her eyes that morning, before she had shot the new information to her, letting her know that Emily had a plane ticket and that was proof that she was actually coming back. Because, with Emily Prentiss, one just never knew if she would or if she wouldn't.

"Okay, all done." Rossi stated after helping out the Studs – Luke and Mat, with their desks.

JJ had only been in charge of her own office. Although, even god couldn't fix that place.

Rossi's office was a dream for every neat-freak, suffering from OCD, so he didn't need to do much, other than to throw away some papers that were still in his trash from a week ago. Then he decided to help the guys, whom he saw playing around and throwing paper balls at each other, instead of cleaning up.

Tara didn't have to many things on her desk, so she finished quickly and she helped JJ out for a bit.

And Reid was frantically dusting his precious books, over and over again. Nobody helped him, as he kept repeating the same thing, that he was done cleaning, five times and it was obvious he was just trying to pass time.

"Yes, I'm all cleaned up as well." Garcia stated as she joined them at the bullpen.

She had locked herself in her own little room, dusting her figures and making sure everything was perfectly disorganized and colorful, just like she liked it. The one thing she actually did right was when she had to pick up a little unicorn statue that she had knocked over God-knows-when, so it was now face planted, all alone and sad, behind one of her computers.

"It's almost nine." Matt stated and they all walked over to the meeting room.

"Act normal." JJ reminded them, although it was more a reminder for her own self.

* * *

Emily pulled up at her assigned parking space, in front of the FBI main building. She had mixed feelings about going back to work, all the way up to the front gate of the government property, where the main building was and where, a little further from that, the Academy grounds were situated.

There was something about the air within those gates…something about the sun, illuminating that building, something that made her take a deep breath and smile as she got out of her car.

She walked over to the second floor first and got greeted by a few colleagues from other Units and Divisions. They all pretended like they liked her, but she knew the moment she'd turn around, either one of them would be happy to throw a knife in her back.

"SSA Prentiss, how's work? Working on a new case?" Some man walked over and decided to start a small talk.

Emily sighed, wondering why he would even bother. Clearly, he knew nothing about her current situation. He didn't know she had been asked to step down and cool off for a week. He also didn't know that she was, practically on probation. And he had no clue she hadn't been working on a case for a month now. So, why would she waste time, pretending to want to talk to him then?

"I'm only here for the free coffee." She said grumpily, walking over to the coffee machine and fixing herself a double black, no sugar. "However bad it might be." She added with attitude.

"Where have I heard this statement before?" Out of all people, Ben walked over to her and the other man disappeared.

"Hi Ben." She said with a sigh. She was never a bitch to him, although he was not quite well-liked around the block.

"Listen, Emily…I just want to give you a little heads up." He said, nearly whispering.

"Meet me by the fountain at the courtyard at noon today and I'll tell you everything." He added as he noticed how a few people were looking at him, talking to Prentiss.

Ben was a regular at that coffee lounge. Some people liked him, but some straight-out hated his guts. He would hang out there, like a hawk, observing people and doing his job. Some considered him to be an ass. Others simply _knew_ he was an ass. But Emily knew him differently.

She nodded and walked away, but not after grabbing two cookies from the table.

Ben looked at the sweets, wondering why were they suddenly so popular. He had seen Angie there twice and both times she had taken two of the same cookies – butter cookies in the shape of a heart, with one side of it dipped in dark chocolate.

He didn't know about Angela, but he was sure Emily had been drawn to the symbolism of the darkness vs. light. He knew her well, or at least he liked to think so. Angela, on the other hand, he was starting to not be a huge fan of.

Emily then took the elevator to the floor where the BAU offices were situated. She had taken the West wing elevator, since it was nearer to the coffee lounge, so that meant that she now had to take a long walk across the building. There was that corridor, one that she had not missed. It was long, connecting the East and West wings; white, the kind of bright white that would hurt your eyes if you looked at it for too long; and full of sorrow.

She sucked in her breath and started walking. On both sides of the corridor, the walls were full of portraits – beautiful photos of FBI members, in uniform, smiling, ready to serve their country. Or at least they _had_ been ready, until they had met their inevitable destiny and ended up on the wall.

Emily gulped, realizing how many young Agents' portraits were hung up there. Men and women had left families, friends and colleagues behind, serving their country, fighting evil.

Heroes.

That was what the portraits represented.

Real life action heroes, ones that deserve so much more than just a portrait on a wall.

Emily felt so emotional and it seemed like the corridor would never end. The more she walked, the more faces were staring at her and she felt so incredibly overwhelmed. She had walked down this corridor many times before, but this time…something felt different.

And then it hit her – the reason why she was feeling so vulnerable was now right there, in front of her.

She stopped her pace and her eyes got glued to the wall.

In front of her, among many other portraits of people, there was an empty one. She felt so emotional, just staring at it. It was blank, white, just a frame, hung on a wall. It was a reminder.

It had once contained _her_ photo and her name had been written underneath it, with an intricate golden inscription that JJ had spilled hot tears while choosing, even though she had known the truth all along.

And then it hit her even harder – Emily Prentiss had once been dead. She had once left all those people who cared so much about her. The reasons why she did it were not important. What bothered her was the fact that she had left. She hadn't even tried to come up with another solution, even if it would have been a worse one, for sure. Her first and only response to the situation had been to leave, even if she wasn't realizing that it had been Hotch and JJ's decision, at the time. At least then, weirdly, she had the privilege to have two people from her team know that she was actually alive. It wasn't like it hadn't broken them, anyway.

Hotchner had been a mess after her staged death. He had found himself leading a team that was now mourning the loss of a valuable member, and he wasn't good at dealing with his own emotional problems, let alone with the ones of six other people.

JJ had been a mess. No matter how many online scrabble dates she had had with Emily, even despite the fact that she _saw_ her alive, with her own eyes, in Paris, JJ was still left broken and very much altered after the whole thing. She was left having to deal with a crying best friend, when Reid would randomly roll up to her door and cry in her arms until late at night. She was left with keeping the burden of a secret that was eating her up from the inside. She was also left wondering if Emily would ever come back, which was the thing that had broken her the hardest.

Emily exhaled, realizing that, once again, her constant leaving was the cause of so many people's pain.

"I should have stayed up there." She muttered underneath her breath, honestly wishing that it had all been true and that her photo would now be hanging on that damn wall. Because _that_ was how much she hated herself and her life at that very moment.

"No!" A very familiar, very sexy sounding, deep male voice came up from behind her. "You, Emily Prentiss, are a survivor. And you, Emily Prentiss, are never ending up on that wall. Do you hear me? Because you, Emily Prentiss, deserve the world, but most of all – because the world deserves _you_, Emily Prentiss!"

Oh, she most definitely heard him. She just wasn't sure whether she was hearing things, maybe it was a dream, or was it reality?

She turned around, painfully slowly, only to realize that it was reality – the first reality that she enjoyed being immersed into, in a while.

She threw herself in his already open and inviting arms, and she inhaled the scent of his perfume. He liked using this one on special occasions.

"Morgan!" She said, resting her chin against his manly shoulder while he held her. He was one of the very few men that she had this kind of friendship where she would let them hold her. Otherwise, she was a '_Don't Touch Me'_ kind of a woman.

"Prentiss!" He greeted her by kissing the top of her head.

"There is no one else I'd rather see right now. Oh, I'm so happy you're back!" She said emotionally.

"I'm glad to hear that." He smirked, but then he had to calm down her enthusiasm. "But I'm not back. I'm just visiting. I've missed you, guys."

Emily pulled back for a second, studying his face, to see if he was bluffing. And he was not.

She frowned.

"But, I thought you said you were starting over and you never wanted to step foot here again, because this job had ruined you." She commented, because she was smart enough to doubt his words.

Morgan thought for a second. Yes, the job had ruined him, at that specific moment of his life. Yes, he had taken the decision to live under a new identity, on the other side of the world. But also yes, he knew exactly how broken Emily was at that moment, because of the job, so if he had to break a promise to himself, in order to help her out, so be it.

Also, that may or may not have been the only reason he was back in town.

Emily then assessed the situation and only after a few seconds, she came to the right conclusion.

"Garcia contacted you, didn't she?" She looked up at him and his hands held her face for a moment.

"You know it, Princess." He smirked.

God, she had missed that smirk.

"Now, are we giving them a double surprise or what?" He smiled wide, already imagining everyone's face if he walked in, next to Prentiss.

* * *

"It's 9:05." Garcia pointed out after a very long and awkward silence in the meeting room.

"It's _Emily_." Rossi pointed out.

"Yeah, she runs on _Emily-time_." JJ added, merely stating a fact.

"It's Emily!" Reid cheered.

"Yeah, I heard you guys. It's Emily. Yada yada. She runs on Emily-time. Yada yada." Garcia made an impression of both Rossi and JJ, repeating their words.

"No, guys." Reid stood up from his chair. "It's Emily!" He pointed at the cracked door, being able to see just a part of her figure, walking towards the door. But he knew it was her. He _needed_ it to be her.

"It's Emily!" Garcia squealed, recognizing the sound of Emily's shoes as she got closer to the door.

"And someone else…?" JJ pointed out, seeing a second pair of shoes by the door.

"Hey guys." Emily greeted shyly as she walked in.

She let her hand linger on the door handle before she opened the door wide, revealing the person who was accompanying her.

"Hello, naughty people!" Morgan greeted them a lot more cheerfully, compared to Emily.

"Hello, BabyGirl." He then added, because Garcia deserved a greeting only for herself.

"Oh my God!" Garcia had darted from her seat immediately, but as she got in front of Emily and Morgan, she realized that, somehow, JJ had beat her to it by teleporting herself over the table or under it, or however she did it, but it had taken her half a second to reach the other side of the meeting room.

JJ was the first one to grab Emily and no matter how many people were on queue, she just wouldn't let go.

"You're back!" JJ whispered in Emily's ear and it warmed Emily's heart. It also broke it a little bit more, realizing the huge load of tension that JJ was unloading at that moment. Tension that had been caused by Emily's leaving. Again.

"Uhm, it's my turn." Reid tried to push JJ aside, but she was glued.

Garcia had already given Morgan some love and his whole face was now covered in pink lipstick. She was now eager to move on to Emily.

"Na-ah!" Garcia pinched Reid, trying to get rid of him. "Take a number!" She stuck her tongue at him.

Through all of this, JJ didn't move an inch. Her only movement was when her grip became tighter and her fingers dug into Emily's back until it was starting to hurt a little bit.

"Act normal…yeah, sure." Luke rolled his eyes, throwing JJ's words back at her.

She did not catch the subtle dig. She was too busy being there, where Emily was.

"Guys, guys…" Emily finally pulled back simply because all of these emotions were threatening to give her another downpour of tears and she was not sure she could handle that. Not after the night she had on the two planes.

"Let me breathe." Emily forced herself to chuckle and everybody knew it wasn't a genuine thing. But they still liked to see her try.

She gave a small hug to everyone else before she asked them to sit down.

Emily wasn't stupid. She knew she looked like crap. She also knew that they knew how much she had cried.

But they weren't stupid either, so none of them dared ask her about it.

"First of all, I am _not_ back." Morgan started off when everyone had taken a seat. He did not want to give false hope to anyone. "Just briefly visiting." He cleared it up.

"Ooh." Garcia frowned. For the past couple of minutes, she had already mentally planned out her whole entire life, from this point on, until the moment she died, with Morgan next to her.

"Secondly…" Emily took over from there. "I _am_ back." She kind of felt the need to say it out loud, having that gut feeling that maybe her colleagues were scared that this would be her announcement of retirement from the Bureau.

JJ exhaled loudly and Rossi put his hand on her knee, under the table. He had strategically sat next to her, in order to keep her in check. Sometimes this girl felt like a daughter to him and he could not help being protective over her.

"I'm not going to lie – I did have my reservations about coming back and I quite frankly did not want to do it, for a brief moment." Emily herself could not believe the balls she had to just come out and say those words.

But everyone appreciated the brutal honesty.

"But I wouldn't be lying if I said that, during that brief moment of complete insanity, I closed my eyes and I pictured a different life – one without you guys in it. And it was no better than what I have now. Actually, no. It was way worse. A few days ago I reminded myself of the way I felt when I was giving that Welcome speech to the FBI Academy Trainees two weeks ago. I was full of hope for them, I wanted to inspire them, to show them how amazing their life could be one day, if they were lucky enough to have people like you on their team. And then I realized how lucky _I _was and how dumb it would be to throw it all away." She felt someone next to her shift uncomfortably. It was Morgan, who had done exactly that – he'd thrown it all away.

"No offence." She shot him a glance, holding the tiniest bit of a grudge still, for him leaving.

"I really don't have it in me to hold another emotional speech right now. I don't. And I'm sorry. I'm all spoken out…" She sighed. In reality, she wasn't all _spoken_ out. She was all _cried_ out.

"I do not wish to discuss this past week, with anyone. So, please, I'm begging you to respect my privacy here." Emily licked her lips nervously.

"Of course." Rossi promised quickly. He wasn't one to go nag people for answers anyway.

"I need today to be a fresh start. Because I'm an egoist. I'm doing this for myself. I need a do-over on Emily Prentiss, here at the BAU. I'm keeping my status as Unit Chief, but now more than ever I need your help and advice. We are going to build the BAU up, back from scratch, if we need to!" She finished off and realized how everyone was now staring at something behind her.

Someone, actually.

"About that status…" The Section Chief, that same old bitch that Emily hated so much, had once again invited herself in without even knocking. It was her habit by now.

Emily gulped. If she got stripped off duty, she would blow this bitch's brains out before she handed her gun and badge to anyone.

"I guess I got lucky. I came here to talk to SSA Prentiss, but since I found all of you gathered here, I'll save her the embarrassment of having to tell you the news afterwards." The woman had that stupid smirk on her face and Emily wanted to wipe it off with her hand. Or her fist.

"You are all very kindly invited to the Hearing on Friday morning. Consulting a lawyer will, in no way, result in the board looking at you as any more guilty than what we already think you are." She informed them. "Until then, have a good week. You are back on duty, but your case-load might be a bit weaker than usual."

With those words, the woman handed Emily a sealed envelope and she left.

"A hearing? What hearing?" Reid said, confused.

Emily once again found herself opening a piece of paper that would ruin her further.

However, this time, she was surprised to find out that all the hysterical crying and all the pain she had just gone through, had actually made her stronger. She found herself opening the damn thing with her chin up high and her poker face on. She found out that, on the inside, her inner Emily Prentiss was screaming, cheering for her to be strong and to get things fixed.

She couldn't have possibly fixed things with Richard. That was a no end street, right from the start. One of them was bound to get hurt and it just so happened that it was _her_.

But she could fix this. Now. And the fact that she _had_ to fix it, for the sake of all these people whom she loved so dearly, was giving her even more courage to open the letter and read it.

"Okay. Well, apparently, we've been under investigation for the past week. That's why they needed us out of here. Our offices have been searched and our old case files have been revised. They have built a case against the BAU and our first hearing is on Friday, 10 am." Emily summed it all up.

Everyone gasped. A few faces went pale while others were fuming red.

Emily stood still, seemingly unbothered by all of this.

"How can you be so calm?" Tara asked her, because it was just a weird reaction after such stressful news.

"Oh, sweetheart…" Emily then did the most un-Emily thing, under stress – she chuckled. "I'm all worried out." She added. There was no strength left in her to worry, to yell, to obsess over this. It was out of her control and all she could do from this point on was to make sure she gained control over as many aspects of this situation as possible.

"Guess I chose the wrong time for a surprise then…" Morgan whispered quietly, referring this sentence to no one in particular.

"No, it's the perfect time." Garcia moved her chair closer to his.

"If anyone can un-break her right now, it's you!" She whispered to him and it made him smile.

Morgan had left the BAU a few years ago. He had changed his name and his ways, now that he was a married man with a young child. He had moved continents. He had moved a few houses until he found the perfect one to live in.

But he hadn't moved _on_.

Not even the tiniest little bit.

He thought that by being far from the Bureau, everything would change. But it all stayed the same. If not worse. He found himself missing his friends, his job, in a weird way he missed the unsubs as well.

So, he understood what Emily meant when she said she had considered leaving again. And he also applauded her for having the strength to realize that this was not the answer. She had come back. He hadn't.

A few days ago, he had been sitting on the porch, watching his child play in the back yard, while he waited for his wife to come back from grocery shopping. Life would have seemed perfect if anyone saw them from the street – the perfect family, a happy child, a strong couple.

But Morgan had his doubts lately. He had tried getting himself involved in things – he changed his gym membership, he went out to play soccer with the guys from the neighborhood a few times, he even had a few friends whom he would sometimes go out and have drinks with.

But it wasn't the same. And whatever he did, he found himself not liking it, or not being fulfilled by the activity. Not the same way that he had been when he had ran after bad guys.

Right then and there – sitting on the porch, he had received an e-mail from a certain colorful woman who could always make his heart glow in all the colors of the rainbow.

He had opened it with a smile, even though she wasn't supposed to contact him. This was the e-mail account that she had secured for him, untraceable – it was his only way of contacting the team, while keeping his new identity and hiding his old one. It was also, only for emergency purposes.

He had figured that Garcia just couldn't hold it anymore and she had to let him know how much she missed him. He had assumed that her e-mail would make him smile and laugh like an idiot, because some of the things she said – if not _all_, were simply ridiculous and she always made him laugh.

However, that e-mail had broken his heart a little bit. It was hardly about him. It was all about Emily. And Emily was, along with Garcia, the one he felt most strongly connected to. So, reading those lines about her suffering and blaming herself after that one specific case, had only given him the strength to do what he had been wanting to do for months now.

When his wife had come home, he had casually thrown in his desire to go back and see his friends.

He had then thanked the Lord so many times, for having blessed him with such an amazing wife, one who understood why he needed to do this. One who backed up his decision. And one who sat down by his side, immediately after chucking the fresh produce in the fridge, and helped him book the cheapest flight back to his old home. No questions asked. No objections. Just pure understanding. Yes, Morgan was a lucky man to have Savannah by his side.

So, he had left a wife and a child, to go be with the other woman that he loved - the one who needed him right now.


	39. Have No Mercy On Her

**CHAPTER 39**

_**HAVE NO MERCY ON HER**_

"Miss Hunter, you cannot go home just yet. I've already informed you that it might possibly be an option _tonight_…but not right now." The doctor argued with her, right before lunch.

"I've been here for hours! The damned system is done dripping into me and I'm feeling just fine!" She informed him.

"You're feeling just fine because you are on bed rest. If you were up, your legs would cave in under your body weight and you'd end up collapsing again." The man was hellbound on keeping her there until the evening. And, at this point, he wanted to check her in for the night, just because she was being a brat.

"Did you just call me fat!?" She gasped dramatically. If she wasn't getting _her_ way, she'd always try to play the victim, so she'd eventually get her way.

"Ha-ha." He said sarcastically. "I have two daughters, just about your age." He added. "It's not going to work."

"Fine then! Keep me a prisoner. Watch me file a complaint once I get out of here!" Angie groaned unhappily.

He rolled his eyes and quickly finished writing on her chart, so he could get the Hell out of there.

A nurse then let Bryan know he could go see her before lunch.

Poor Bryan had spent the whole morning, pacing up and down the hallway. Since he and Dan spoke to her earlier, he had been all alone out there, as Dan needed to go back for the morning class.

"Hey. What did you do to the doctor? He darted out of your room like he had seen the Devil." He laughed, pointing towards the door.

"Let's just say that he hasn't seen it _yet_…" She smirked. "But he will, if I don't get to leave right after lunch."

"Why right after lunch?" He raised an eyebrow.

The same nurse who had invited him in, was now walking in the room as well, holding a tray of food and placing it on the little table next to Angie's bed.

"Because…" Angie's hand hovered over the tray, as if she was showcasing it. "Free food. Duh!" She added and it made him laugh.

"May I stay?" Bryan asked politely and the nurse nodded before she left the room.

"Want some?" Angie said while splitting a loaf of bread in two.

"You're in a hospital, pale as a ghost, hooked to systems…" He pointed out. "And you're still offering half of your food to me?"

"Well, duh. You're my friend. From what I could gather – my _only_ friend." She said while spreading peanut butter on one half of the bread loaf.

"This is desert!" He pointed out and saw her smirk. Clearly, she wanted to eat that first.

"Angela Hunter, you are such a child!" He rolled his eyes and laughed, but he let her do as she pleased.

He pretended not to be hungry, so she would have enough food to heal. He then watched her eat the dessert and then continue with a can of peas and a soup that was as transparent as the water in Bali. It was so hard not to cringe, but she seemed to enjoy the food anyway.

"Okay." She put the empty tray aside, once she was done with everything, not leaving a crumb in there.

"If we leave right now, we might be able to squeeze a coffee and a cake in before class." She added.

"No, Angie-…" He tried, but she cut him off.

"I didn't join the FBI Academy to just lay on a bed and pretend like I'm sick. I'm fine! I need to go to class and so do you. I have a reason to cut class, but you don't. And there is no way I'm getting you into trouble." She smiled.

Bryan raised his eyebrows at her last statement and it made her chuckle. This girl had 'Trouble' written all over her.

* * *

After the BAU meeting, Emily asked everyone to go back to their stations and to try and figure out what was missing. It proved to be harder, now that they had just re-ordered their desks. But it wasn't impossible.

By lunch time, they all gathered up and left the FBI headquarters. It took them a 40-minute drive, to get to a place where they were sure nobody would listen in.

"Alright guys, what do you have." Emily asked.

"Well, I know I'm messy, but this morning my office was just…off. I mean, there is a strategy to my mess. And while I was tidying up, I noticed a few things. Firstly, an old file was sitting on my desk and I am so damn sure I had already closed and finalized it, before putting it in my locked up storage unit, by the door." JJ commented.

"It was easier for me to spot the differences. Someone had dared to underline my journal. In blue! Like, why would they do that? This is just mean! Blue is never to be used when underlining, unless it is a title, and this wasn't. Ugh!" Rossi's OCD came in handy this time.

"Secondly…" JJ continued after that. "This is _not_ my gun!" She held a plastic bag with a gun inside of it.

"Someone planted a gun in your office?" Emily gasped. "It's one thing to investigate a whole Unit, but it's just unacceptable to plant fake and incriminating evidence on our property!"

"Oh, no. Here's where it gets messy." JJ smirked. "I found this gun, inside of my gun holder. You know, the secure one, with a lock on it, the key for which is in my panty drawer back home."

"TMI, JJ." Morgan laughed, because no matter the shitty situation everyone was in, he was relieved to be back, sitting next to them, even if he was just an observer this time.

"Wait. Your storage unit is under key as well." Matt added.

"Yes, like I said. Both are under key. So, why would someone unlock them. And why would someone take my gun and leave me an identical one?" JJ shrugged.

"Did you touch it?" Emily said, having an idea.

"Of course not. I picked it up with gloves and put it in an evidence bag." JJ said while looking around for the waitress. "But, it doesn't really matter. I now have a gun, without my fingerprints on it. And they have _my_ gun, with a whole bunch of my DNA all over it. God knows what they could set me up for, if they used it."

They had chosen to go to a weird little diner for lunch. It was one of those highway, quick and easy places to grab a bite on the go. It was also safe to say no other FBI agent would be found there. And it was also going to become their favorite hangout spot for the rest of the week.

"Good girl." Emily said contently. "I'm sending this straight for DNA analysis. If we can prove your DNA is not on it, we can prove it is not your gun. Apart from the fact that its serial number already proves it anyway."

"Sadly, we cannot prove who put it there." Rossi had to crush her enthusiasm.

"Yeah. Or why." Tara backed Rossi up.

Emily sighed. They were right.

"I could have played double-agent and given you some insider information. But she already saw me with you this morning. Plus, nobody would believe it if I suddenly turned my back on you." Morgan thought out loud.

"Huh." Emily thought she would be able to express her ironical sigh in a much less obvious way. But he heard it. And he knew exactly how much she was blaming him for having left. Although, she was hardly one who had the right to hold a grudge about it.

"I don't think it's realistic of us to want to come up with the best solution right away." Reid chimed in, as always – bringing a valid point to the table.

"But it's also Monday noon and we are going to be skinned alive on Friday morning. So, we can't really waste any time either." It was the first thing Luke said about their situation.

They kept on discussing possible ways of handling this and, at some point, JJ smiled.

_"__It's been an hour and she hasn't blamed herself for any of it, not even once!"_ JJ thought to herself, while keeping the smile on her lips as she casually shot a glance at Emily.

Once they realized they were taking twice as long to have their lunch break, they jumped back in their cars and drove back.

The afternoon was spent in search of new evidence of foul play.

Emily then received a text from Ben, letting her know she had never showed up for their noon meeting by the fountain. She excused herself and suggested grabbing an afternoon coffee and going for a walk instead.

At 4 pm, she was by the fountain, with two cups of coffee in her hand. When he joined her, she offered him one of those.

"Oh, you shouldn't have." He said shyly.

"Oh, yes I should." She took a sip of her own cup.

"I wanted to show you what good coffee tastes like. Maybe give you some pointers for that Executive Lounge up there." She added, pointing to the windows of the second floor, where they had met early this morning.

"I'm not sure of its exclusivity anymore." Ben laughed, taking a sip of his coffee and, once again, reminding himself that he had to do something about the coffee situation. Everyone had been nagging him about how nasty it was.

"Why is that?" Emily asked as they casually started walking towards a more secluded area.

"Apparently Trainees now roam around freely." He rolled his eyes.

This was a recent thing, but after a little bit of renovation, the second floor lounge had become the Executive Lounge – a place for Unit Chiefs and Superiors to hang out and discuss work with each other. It was part of the Bureau's new plan on breaking the walls between Units and Sections, so that everyone would be able to have connections in both higher and lower sections of the FBI. The Exec Lounge was the place for them to mix and mingle, casually getting to know each other and making future collaborations between Units possible.

"No way. How did you let that happen?" Emily laughed so hard. She knew exactly how upset Ben would be about it.

"I have no idea. I just keep seeing her face around there." He shrugged, hating having to admit defeat over a Trainee.

"Her?" Emily raised an eyebrow. She had figured it had been a group of Trainees who were trespassing.

"Yeah, one of the newbies. She had the nerve to tell me all the things she found to be wrong with the Academy. And the FBI, in general." He sighed.

"She did?" Emily was enjoying this more than she would like to admit.

"She sure did." He looked down to the ground, feeling a bit overpowered.

"So, I take it she has no idea who you are?" Emily did her best at concealing another chuckle.

"She sure as Hell does not." Ben let himself enjoy another sip of coffee. "She thinks I'm in HR or something."

"Which, you kind of are." Emily pointed out.

"Yes, in a way. But, come on, you know who I am." Ben said proudly.

He was very well known around there. Some people's knees trembled at the mere mention of his name. He had friends, those were the lucky ones. Emily was one of them. But he also had enemies. And when Ben pinpointed someone as an enemy, it never turned out good for them.

"She also likes the same cookies that you always take." He commented, although he wasn't sure why he would even share this piece of information.

"Well, if that girl is anything like me…" She smirked. "Boy, you better watch out for her!"

"Well, I kind of have to now." His mood had just started to get better, until it got worse when he added new information to the table. "She's Dan's new project this year."

"The Wild Card?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

Ben nodded.

"She must be all sorts of special then." She said, curiosity crawling into her bones. "Tell me about her."

"Well, she's really young. Like, you would look at her and think she was still in high-school. Especially with that silly bow she wears in her hair." Ben hated the damned bow. It got on his nerves. "She's smart, okay, yeah, I give it to her. I endorsed her application documents and I signed her permission for the Academy. But that's because my boss forced me to. And you know how he is…"

"Oh, pff…Tell me about it!" Emily rolled her eyes.

Ben's boss was not a man whose word could be crossed or doubted. Ever.

"So, I was already familiar with her educational background and stuff. But then I saw her here and she's just this huge ray of sunshine. Honestly, I don't even think she fits in here."

"Why?" Emily questioned. "Penelope Garcia printed her application form on pink paper and sprayed it with perfume before she handed it in. She wears, well, all the colors in the world. She is the furthest from the image of an FBI agent. But hey, she's one of the best Analysts I've ever seen and I wouldn't have anyone else on my team!" Emily said proudly.

After a moment of deep thought, Ben shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He admitted. "Well, this girl is working really hard to be here. Dan recently started pushing her buttons and she hasn't caved, at all. I mean, she is only 23, she looks like she is fifteen and she acts like she is twelve at times…"

"But?" Emily knew that appraisal was coming.

"But she is so damn smart and there is something so addictive about her. She can insult you and make you feel good about it. Like, she knows her way with words. She knows how to read people, she knows what to say and when to say it. I don't think she's as superficial as her bow makes her look. I don't think this façade of bubbliness and cheerful appearances is anything else but just that – a façade."

"Why would you say that?" She asked, pointing at a little path that lead to the forest nearby. She really wanted to have a good afternoon walk.

"I honestly don't know. I feel like she is not the person she makes believe. Ever since Dan pinned her and her friend as his targets, all the training officers were instructed to start giving them harsh criticism and each time she has ended up thanking the person for their feedback and letting them know she would be working on bettering herself in the said aspect. I mean, come on Emily, what 23 year old acts that way?"

"A 23 year old who has a good head on her shoulders, comes from good education and has the discipline, will and courage to turn bad feedback into precious advice on how to be a better Agent, one day." Emily said calmly.

"Damn it, I hate it when you're right." Ben laughed as they were now walking towards the trees.

"Can I give you some advice? You know, as a profiler, if not as a friend or a colleague." Emily suggested.

He was happy to have it.

"Push her even harder. If she stood out to Dan, she must be special. Dan's been the Academy mentor for years, he knows what he's doing. He's cut Trainees left and right, but he's also helped build the best Agents we have now. Give him the green light. Let him play with her. Let him push her around, push her buttons, watch her handle herself in such situations. Put her under pressure, put her on the spot. Work her up, try to break her down. Give her all the best reasons why she should prove her worth to you, guys. And if she does – then she deserves you to bow in her feet. Because any 23 year old who could handle herself and survive your vicious mind games, and I know what you guys are capable of; is a girl who deserves nothing but pure praise and respect." Emily smiled before she added one more thing. "And also, have no mercy on her."

"You are the Devil, woman." Ben nudged her playfully, but it made her frown Just the other day, another man had told her the same exact words.

"I sure am." She forced a smile.

They were now at a safe distance from anyone else, so he finally felt at ease to speak about what was going on.

"Now, Emily…I trust that this would stay between you and I…" He started off and she knew the topic had changed.

"Of course." She nodded.

"Good. Because I could lose my job for telling you this." He invited her to sit down on the grass, covered with leaves.

It was a beautiful scenery – so peaceful, so quiet.

"Your Unit is under investigation." He said quietly.

"I know. We were told our hearing is this Friday at 10." She told him while sitting down gracefully enough to spill some coffee on her pants.

"Well, here's where it gets dark." He kept on whispering. "That last case you had a month ago, it opened up some suspicions and while you guys were away, people have been snooping around your offices like hound dogs. Old case files have been re-opened and your every word, every command, every decision on the field is now being questioned."

"So, this is about _me_?" She asked.

"No. This is about _them_, wanting to shut down the BAU for good. And it's been going on for a while. It started with a few shush-shush meetings between the Superiors. It even got sent to my Boss' office, as a proposal…" He didn't seem happy to be telling her that.

"Oh…" Emily suddenly felt a wave of worry.

"He didn't sign it." Ben was quick to let her know, as he knew that the mention of his boss was always a huge stress factor for people.

"So now they are trying everything, to get rid of you. They tried pushing you against the wall by cutting your budget down to the impossible. And you guys found a way around that. So, they are now desperate for something to hold onto. And I'm afraid that-…"

"That they are going to plant fake evidence in order to incriminate us? Well, check." She sighed.

"Wow! I mean, I had my suspicions, but I never thought she'd stoop to that level."

"She?" Emily had assumed that more people were involved in this.

"It all started with her. She poisoned the brains of a few of the other ones, but it is mainly _her_ who wants to bring you down."

"Let me guess. My Section Chief?" She rolled her eyes and he nodded as response.

"Ugh, I wish I could have punched her out this morning. I needed to give myself this satisfaction." She muttered quietly.

"It would have made you feel better. Yes. But it would have been really bad for you and your team, in trial." He said while taking the last sip of his now cold coffee.

"Don't call it trial, please. It sounds so official." She felt shivers. "It's just a hearing. For now."

"Emily, you do know this is going to be messy and that it might turn out badly for all of you, right?" He could have tried to be supportive, but what she needed right now was someone to be real with her.

"Yeah." She played with her coffee cup in her hands. "Thank you for letting me know all that. I really appreciate it."

"Hey, after what you did for me out there…" He trailed off. He didn't need to mention it, Emily knew exactly what he was referring to. Years might have passed, but they both remembered one very specific moment. "I'll owe you for a lifetime!"

Emily then yawned. The caffeine had the opposite effect on her. It only brought her body to experience more jet-lag and she felt exhausted.

They both got back to the main building and Emily went upstairs, joining her team.

She found Morgan, in the corner, talking to JJ and Garcia. It didn't take a genius to know exactly what the topic of their conversation was. Or rather – _who_.

"Emily." JJ said sweetly, it also being a sign for Morgan and Garcia to shut up, as Emily was now walking towards them, from behind.

"It's worse than we thought." Emily whispered to the three of them.

And then she remembered the surveillance cameras in the offices. Plus, if Agents had been messing with them, she wouldn't exclude the possibility of hidden microphones all around them.

She quickly scribbled a few words on a piece of paper before she crumbled it and tossed it to JJ first.

_"__We must act normal. Can't discuss anything here. We're being set up!"_

JJ read it and tossed it to Luke next.

The paper made its turn around the bullpen and the last one to read it, Matt, made a quick trip to the bathroom where he destroyed the paper and flushed the toilet three times, just in case.

Two hours of painful undercover work and pretending like they were just cleaning up and chatting about the weather, they all clocked out.

"This was fun." JJ said sarcastically.

"Breakfast at the diner tomorrow?" Tara suggested, so they could talk about everything.

Morgan felt a little weird. He didn't fit in with the group anymore. All day long he just felt like he was an outsider, like his presence there was a bit too much.

"Guest room is all made up." JJ suggested to him, since she had prepared everything for Garcia the night before. She could easily change the sheets and have Morgan sleep over now.

"Thanks." He winked at her and got in his car, following her to her house.

* * *

"Hey man, I wanted to talk to you."

"Victor, I'm done working for the day. We can discuss this tomorrow morning." Richard replied to the same man, the only one who didn't seem to be scared of him.

"Good." Victor said, walking along with Richard, towards his car.

"Because I'm not here to talk to my Boss. I'm here to talk to my friend." He added calmly.

Richard sighed and let him get in his car. He drove off to a quiet bar that he knew he would find empty, at this hour.

They got something to drink and Richard just waited for it.

"Hey, if anyone knows how hard this must have been for you, it's me. Come on, man…" Victor finally spoke up.

It wasn't like Richard, at all, but at that moment he felt tense. His lips formed a line and he did not seem happy to be discussing the thing that this man was hinting about.

"We agreed – we're never talking about this." He reminded him.

"I know, but I never thought this would come back and hit you in the face. Not like this. Richard, I'm not saying this to my Boss, but I'm worried about my friend. You can't allow yourself to go down that road again. Not now. Not with everything you have become…and you've worked your ass off to be where you are."

"I know." Richard nearly whispered. His eyes closed for a long moment, as he replayed scenes from his past, events that had helped him get to where he was now. It wasn't all shiny and pink. And yet, he was proud of everything he had accomplished. He was proud of the person he was.

"If you need any help at work, I'm happy to clock in a few more hours. And no, I don't care if I get paid or not. I just want to help you out, okay? And I hope you won't be that stubborn asshole that I know, the one who would try to do everything himself. The overachiever. The tough guy. The one who would, ultimately, crash and burn. I just want to help. Please, promise me that if you feel like you need help, you'll come to me?"

"Victor…" He sighed. This guy had been in his life for years. They had been through so much together, that they were now convinced they were brothers. They had to be. They grew up together, they suffered together, they laughed together.

"You're not just my right hand. You know I don't see you as an assistant, but as an equal, right? And don't make me remind you how much I hate it that only one of us had to get the promotion…" Richard continued.

"Stop blaming yourself for it. You deserve everything you have right now, and more. That promotion had your name written all over it. I don't mind being your right hand, as long as I'm also your best friend."

"God, I am so lucky to have you in my life." Richard sighed.

He could not help but draw a parallel between Victor and Lauren. Both meant a lot to him. He wanted both of them in his life, by his side, challenging him. Because, one of the things he liked the most about Lauren was that she never backed down. She had stood up for herself, she had challenged him, she had made him smile. She had made him want to think of a future for himself, one with another woman, a woman different than his late wife whom he had been madly in love with, for years. Lauren was the first woman to have touched his heart, in a way no one else ever could.

And then he also realized one more thing – Lauren and Victor had nothing in common, if not the fact that he needed both, in his life. He quickly came to the conclusion that it had been over twenty-four hours now, that he had been drawing parallels between Lauren and _everything_.

Eating his lunch earlier, he couldn't help but notice how his chopsticks worked in perfect sync. They had to be pushed just the same, they had to press against each other, in order to work. And they had to do so, continuously. And that was when he had thought of Lauren, pressing her small frame against him, letting him hold her. They felt like equals, like the identical chopsticks, working perfectly together. A pair that needed their partner, in order to function.

Then, in his office, he had spent ten minutes, gazing at the screensaver on his computer. It was of a rough sea, at night. It was dark blue, overly photoshopped, with the stars in the sky almost sparkling, their reflection visible in the water, in between the waves that were crashing against the shore. Richard liked the darkness. He kind of had to. It was his whole life and he had learned to cope with it in ways that normal people would not understand. And then, there was the horizon…above everything else and despite every dark detail of this photo, the horizon rose. He had smiled, because there was only one reflection he could see clearly, in the horizon of his life – Lauren. Her face. Her voice was still echoing in his mind and he still knew exactly how her laughter sounded. He then wondered how long those memories would last for? How far was that horizon? Would he ever be able to reach it? Was she really going to be there, in the end, or would she turn up to be just a mirage? What scared him the most was the fact that, having had to break her heart, it was now up to _her_ to take the first step towards that horizon. And he wasn't sure she'd do so. From what she had told him about herself, she was good at leaving, but really bad at forgiving. Would she ever want to walk towards his horizon, alongside him? Or was there a different image on her screensaver, maybe one with a horizon that did not have a trace of Richard's reflection in it?

He gulped, taking a big sip of his wine, realizing how Victor was just sitting there, quietly, letting Richard soak into his thoughts, as he had done many times before. He hadn't tried to stop him. He hadn't pushed him to talk. He just sat there, with his mouth shut, making sure that he'd be there for Richard, whenever Richard was ready to ask for help. And that was what made him his brother. In his whole life, Richard hadn't trusted many people. He had been burned a lot and now he considered Victor as his only real friend, along with someone else who was no longer around, but whom Richard would always be protective of, proud of, happy to have known.

And then, yes, there was also Lauren…


	40. Do You Really Think That Of Me?

** CHAPTER 40**

_**DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT OF ME?**_

"I can't believe you're forcing me to be an accomplice to this." Bryan muttered unhappily once they got into the elevator.

"I don't see you being restrained or kept against your will in any kind of way." She smirked.

After she had finished her lunch, she had the brilliant idea to just get out of bed, look around and to run to the nearest elevator once she was sure nobody was looking at her.

Bryan had then been left with no choice but to run after her.

"You can't just run away from a hospital. There's paperwork to be filled." He informed her.

"I'm not a fan of official business. Think of me more like a…" She trailed off. "An innovative person."

"A con artist, that's what you are!" He rolled his eyes.

"I prefer _Grifter_, but I'll take 'con artist' too." She said proudly. He had no idea.

She walked out of the hospital calmly and jumped in one of the taxis that were lined up at the front. They got dropped off by the gate, since the taxi was not authorized to go any further. Only actual Agents could get in with cars, other than their own.

But Angie didn't mind the walk. As she had predicted, they had time for a coffee and some nice pastry. Bryan was starving, so he had to get three croissants and two pieces of cake, to tame down the hunger. And he was still looking very much forward to having a huge dinner later.

When she walked in the auditorium, the class was just starting. Everyone was quietly sitting down, with their tablets and books in front of them. She noticed how nobody had dared to sit in her and in Bryan's places, though.

"Oyyyy!" Someone called out when they saw her by the door.

"Champion. Chaaaampion! Ole ole ole!" He chanted loudly, as if he were on a stadium.

He stood up and his example got followed by a whole bunch of others, who were now cheering for Angie and clapping their hands.

"You go, girl!" One of the female Trainees called out.

"Show them how it's done, Hunter!" A guy who Angie had once been coupled for PFT with, yelled from the back of the auditorium.

Angie walked in, with her head held high and a grin on her face. She was enjoying every second of this. As she walked, she gave everyone a little wave, almost Princess-like.

Bryan walked two steps behind her, in disbelief that this scene was actually happening.

Apparently, Angie was well-liked among her fellow Trainees. She had always treated everyone with respect, so now it was their turn to show their appreciation and to give her a boost for coming back after collapsing just hours ago. She truly was a champion, in their eyes.

Dan was watching it all, with his jaw dropped to the floor, as he was standing by the side of a new teacher, one whom he had to yet introduce to the class.

"Let me take a wild guess here…" The teacher whispered at Dan. "That's your wild card this year?"

Dan nodded with a sigh.

That girl sure knew how to make an entrance.

"Somehow, I'm not even mad that she stole my spotlight." The teacher laughed full-heartedly.

"Hey, remember you have to be strict with her, okay?" Dan reminded him.

"Oh, don't you worry. I'll make her life a living Hell." The teacher said, coming off quite convinced.

"Never eating sushi again!" Angie said loudly, blaming her trip to the ER on bad food poisoning.

Dan caught that. She had spoken loud and clear, making sure everyone could hear that.

But, why would she do that? She kind of knew that Dan was involved. She could have easily exposed him.

Dan then urged everyone to sit down and shut up, before he proceeded in saying a few words about the guy next to him. He was one of the best in what he did and he was an expert on evaluating eye-witness statements.

Angela was super excited about this class. It was one of the reasons why she was so eager to get out of the hospital and go back to class. The other reason was because she hated hospitals.

During the entire class, she listened intently and made little notes and diagrams about the things this man was saying. He had worked some of the top cases in the Bureau history, dealing with eye-witnesses in major crimes. He knew all about the complications that came with eye-witness testimony and, quite frankly, Angela wanted to know all of it as well.

"Now, what do we know about line-ups?" The man asked a rhetorical question, fully intending to answer it on his own.

Until one very eager hand shot up in the air.

He ignored it and kept on speaking. "We have simultaneous and non-simultaneous line-ups." He said, on purpose.

The hand was still up there, but this time the person who was holding it up did not want to wait for an invite before they spoke.

"Actually, Sir, they are simultaneous and sequential!" She corrected him. "Sequential is when the witness looks at each member of the line-up, or the parade, as it is called in some countries, one at a time. While simultaneous, it being the more traditional method, is when all the members of the line-up, or parade, are seen all together, at the same time. Simultaneously. Hence, simultaneous line-up. Ha! Get it?" She said cheerfully.

He did not laugh.

"God, can't you just shut up, for once?" Bryan whispered to her and she sighed.

"Since you clearly believe you are smart enough to teach this class, why don't you come join me and explain to everyone what prosopagnosia is?" The teacher suggested. He had a mean look on his face and she really wanted to like him, because of the subject he was teaching, but she simply did not.

"Okay." She jumped up from her seat, the ponytail waving left and right as she walked on the podium.

"Oh, so fancy out here." She murmured to herself, standing behind a big and obnoxious desk, not realizing there was a microphone in front of her mouth.

People laughed.

"Prosopagnosia, informally referred to as face blindness, is a cognitive disorder of face perception in which the ability to recognize familiar faces, which include one's own face – what we call self-recognition, is impaired, while other aspects of visual processing – such as object discrimination; and intellectual functioning – such as decision-making, remain intact." She spoke slowly, eloquently, loudly and with conviction.

The teacher shot a glance at Dan who just shrugged from the sidelines.

Fine then, she had some basic knowledge about the term. He would surely be able to make a fool out of her, asking her more in-depth questions.

"Which specific brain area is usually associated with this disorder?" He asked.

"That would be the fusiform gyrus, Sir. It's the brain area that activates specifically in response to faces. Also, fun fact: The right hemisphere fusiform gyrus is more often involved in familiar face recognition than the left! But I don't know why that is." She smiled.

He hated her more and more with each time she opened her mouth.

He especially hated her because she must have been on to his little game, so she hurried to admit her lack of knowledge, in front of everyone, so that when he would finally ask her something she could not answer, she would have no shame in telling the truth. Smart. She was one step ahead of him already.

The teacher contemplated whether he should continue or just let her go, in which case he was making a fool out of himself, in front of everyone.

Dan gave himself a silent little facepalm.

When Angie got back to her seat, Bryan asked how come she knew all that.

"It was a chapter in one of those extra books that Barbara gave me." She whispered before she gave the teacher her full, undivided attention until the end of the class.

After class, a bunch of Trainees walked over to her and Bryan, introducing themselves.

It turned out, Angie had fans. They pointed out how funny she was and how entertaining it was to have her in class, how much it helped them fight with all the tension from all the training and studying.

She then found herself surrounded by a whole group of people, each one of whom wanted to hang out with her. And that was cool, because she knew those were people who liked her, genuinely, and people whom she would love to be paired for training later on in the Academy. People she could, presumably, trust.

They all went for dinner that night, at one of the restaurants on Campus, and got to know a bit about each other. Everyone spoke about their families, friends, background. But Angela and Bryan kept finding ways to avoid their turn to speak.

At one point, Angie excused herself and went to the bathroom. She walked in the furthest stall, having a theory that it would always be the cleanest, since people tended to walk into the first one they saw, as soon as they entered the bathroom.

And then she heard footsteps. She put her eye on the missing keyhole and saw two middle-aged women entering in a hurry, discussing something.

"I am telling you – this woman is keeping secrets!" The blonde one said.

"She may or may not be. But you're being obsessed with this. Come on, drop it. You got your hearing. Let the Superiors decide the faith of that Unit." The dark-haired woman replied.

"I won't rest until I shut the BAU down, for good." The blonde one said spitefully.

"Well, do as you wish. I just wanted to let you know that I no longer have any interest in taking part of this takedown. Emily Prentiss has never done anything bad to me. If anything, she had been a pleasant company to grab some coffee at the Executive Lounge with, which is more than what I can say about you, especially lately." With those words, the dark-haired woman exited the bathroom.

"You better watch out or you're the next one to burn!" The blonde called out.

"Or what? You'll plant fake evidence in my office, too?" The brunette laughed and let the door shut in the blonde's face.

Angela smirked. She loved middle-aged women's drama more than she should.

When she got back to the table, her new friends were offering to go for drinks at one of the bars on the campus. Angie refused politely, pointing out that her doctor had prescribed her lots of sleep and rest.

Bryan walked with her in direction of the dorms, until she took a different route.

"Where are you going?" Bryan asked.

"Ikea." She said sarcastically.

He followed her, smelling an adventure. Or at the very least – trouble.

* * *

Emily sighed with huge relief once she was back home. She liked this apartment. It was not the best, but it worked for her, for the time being.

She kicked her shoes off. For the past week she had worn nice and comfortable shoes, so her work shoes were now giving her a headache.

On her way to the bathroom, she stripped down those plain black clothes that she hated so much, grabbing a fresh towel from the counter by the sink and letting hot water run in the bathtub. She deserved a little pampering.

While it loaded, she grabbed her phone from her room and planned to go through her messages from the previous week while relaxing in the water. She even put bath salts in, convinced that they would help her relax. Isn't that what was written on the package anyway?

When she saw that she had 423 new messages in the group chat, she knew she wasn't going to read everything. Sometimes her colleagues would get carried away after office hours and that chat would turn into a hot mess.

She skimmed through it all, noticing a few key points – everyone was worried; nobody dared to try and find her; Garcia never told them she found Emily in Paris; Dave was being a bit rude and holding a bit of a grudge; they all had a barbeque; they all were left upset after she left.

It was now up to Emily to fix all that. Somehow, even after the heartbreak, she was able to pick herself up, little by little, and find the strength to want to fight for her team. They deserved it.

Then she moved on to private messages, which, she had none. Nobody had messaged her directly. Nobody had the courage to speak to her one-on-one. They all wrote in the group chat, as if they needed each other for back-up, in case her leaving was permanent. Because, underneath it all, _that_ was what everyone was really scared of.

And then she realized she had a long audio message, on the side.

She hit the Play button, clueless as to what was going to hit her next.

_"__H-…Hi."_ A weak female voice said, in between hiccups. _"I know you need your time and space. But please, I'm begging you, please don't leave. I can't handle it."_

Emily thought that her heart had been broken the day before. But she was wrong. It was only starting to break at that very moment.

Certain snippets of this weak and tortured voice popped out to Emily.

_"__For once in your life, consider that you leaving is only harming the rest of us…"_

She bit her bottom lip hard.

_"__I still have nightmares from the night we found you bleeding out. It took everything I had in me, to tell everyone that you were dead. And while they all dealt with it in their own way, I had to carry the burden of the lie and deal with it, on my own. I couldn't trust anyone with the truth."_

Emily gulped, that sense of guilt, the one that she had tried so hard to push aside all day long, had resurfaced.

_"__You broke me! How dare you?"_

Hearing that, Emily burst into tears.

_"__I promised myself that if you leave again, I would never go back to the FBI. Because, no matter how much I resented you for that stunt, I love you. With all my heart. Endlessly. I love you so much that it hurts to even think about a possibility of never seeing you again."_

She sucked in a breath. Was she really so powerful, as to get someone to drop a career they had worked so hard for?

_"__I hate everything about you, Emily Prentiss! Most of all, I despise the idea of waking up one day and knowing that I wouldn't spend the next 15 hours with you…you, selfish, nasty, human being! You, stubborn woman! You, you inconsistent, narcissistic bitch!"_

Emily felt that dagger, going deeper into her heart.

_"__I hate the idea of anyone getting hurt, but what I hate the most is the idea of you getting hurt. Because each time you get hurt, Emily Prentiss, you leave. You get scared and you leave. And you break everyone around you. You break us to the point where, one day, we won't even be able to trust you anymore."_

She licked her lips again, salty from the tears, yet feeling dry, from all the pain.

_"__We hate you to the point where we hate everything about you, because deep down inside we are scared out of our minds. Scared, because we know that the moment we let ourselves love you, you will leave. And then you will break us even more. Again and again. And that's not cool, Emily Prentiss…that is so not cool!"_

With one hand, Emily checked if her heart was still there. If it was bleeding already. It sure felt that way.

After another downpour of all the various reasons why she hated Emily, then came that.

_"__And I just lied. Because I am a terrible human being and I want to hurt you, to show you how much a person could hurt someone. I want you to think that I don't care, to think that we will be fine without you. I want you to think that I hate you, Emily Prentiss. I want it so badly."_

She was confused. She also knew exactly what the person meant, with each word they said. And oh, those words were spot on.

_"__No matter how much you broke me, I can never hate you. Do you hear me? I, Jennifer Jareau, am never going to hate you, Emily Prentiss. Ever. Not even for a moment in my whole damned life. Because, every time you hurt me, I know that you are hurting yourself, too. And I hate that, but I don't hate you. I could never hate you."_

Emily shook her head, because there was no other reaction to all of this.

_"__I also know that you left, because you need to heal. I know that you will come back and be the most kind and wonderful human being to all of us. And I know that, deep down inside, what happened three weeks ago, is never going to let you sleep at night."_

She nodded, as if she were silently confirming JJ's words. After that, she had gone on about all the sacrifices Emily was doing, for the team, including how she pretended to be okay, so they wouldn't be hurt.

_"__And that, Emily Prentiss, makes you a human being, worthy of love. And I do, I love you, with all my heart and soul. I love you, Emily Prentiss. And I egoistically refuse to think of a life without you in it."_

Emily could not lie to herself – it felt good to hear those words. All of them. The good ones and the bad ones, too. She needed that.

_"__You make us love you, more and more, with everything you do, until it is practically impossible for us to live without you. This is what you, Emily Prentiss deserve – love. Pure and unconditional, never ending love. And I do love you, so fucking much. You are my best friend, Emily Prentiss. And I am always going to need you in my life. Never forget that!"_

After that, the audio got cut off. And that was the moment when Emily Prentiss' heart got broken. For real, this time.

Without any hesitation, she dialed JJ's number.

* * *

JJ had just finished having dinner with her husband, two kids and their new house guest – Morgan. Will was now upstairs, trying to put the kids to bed, as they both had to wake up early in the morning.

Morgan was trying to make himself fit in, but he felt so awkward. And he could tell JJ felt the same way. Things were just…different.

"Your phone is ringing." He pointed out when JJ failed to give any attention to the first three buzzes.

She shrugged, letting him know she didn't care about it.

He grabbed it, to put it on silent, but then he saw the caller ID.

"It's Emily." He said and JJ nearly flew over to where he was standing, grabbing the phone from his hands and answering immediately.

"Hello?" She said quietly.

"Emily?" She spoke again, since nothing could be heard on the other side of the line.

And then she listened more carefully. It wasn't _nothing_. It was the sound of a broken soul.

"Oh." JJ exclaimed, realizing what had prompted this call.

"Do you really think that of me?" Emily finally spoke, her voice weak and cracking.

JJ could tell that she was crying. And, at that moment, she realized she was crying as well.

With her back at Morgan, she simply raised her hand up and excused herself for a moment, before he would see tears striking down her face.

"Yes…" JJ admitted silently, as she had just locked herself in the bathroom.

"All of it?" Emily was clearly asking about the _hate_ part.

"Yes…" JJ still kept to her original answer.

"Oh, ChayChay…" Emily didn't know what to say.

She also didn't know she didn't need to say anything at all.

JJ knew.

"I love you so incredibly much, JJ…" Emily whispered.

"Mhm…" JJ muttered.

Each time either of them spoke, they would trail off. The rest remained unspoken, but it didn't mean it wasn't received.

"I'm sorry…" Emily added.

"Yeah…" JJ tried really hard to keep her voice from shaking. She hated crying. She only ever cried when it was absolutely necessary to do so. And, then and there, it was.

Emily waited for a long moment. A moment in which they both thought about what JJ's audio message meant.

"I love you, too, Ems…" JJ added, unable to hold that back.

Emily then smiled weakly. She could now hang up and consider this to be dealt with. For the moment.

JJ splashed some water on her face and walked out, to find Morgan sitting on the floor, in front of the bathroom. He immediately offered a hug – he was known as the best hugger in the BAU, and her tiny frame sunk into his arms.

"Emily?" He asked, but it was more of an affirmation. He knew.

JJ nodded. "You should go stay with her tonight. She needs you. I have Will, I'm fine. But she has nobody. And she's always needed you more than she needed any of us."

"That's not true. She needs _all_ of us." He tried to argue.

"If that were true, then why did you put your new life on hold, just to run back to be by her side? If all of us were enough?" She looked up at him.

"I had forgotten how smart you are, Agent Jareau!" He smiled down at her.

"Kids are asleep. Anyone wants a beer?" Will came down the stairs, only to find his wife in tears one more time.

Morgan stuffed his belongings back in his travel bag and he excused himself.

JJ gave him one of her back-up phones, so he could keep in touch with everyone. All the numbers he needed were already saved in the contact list.

She also tossed him her car keys and asked Will to drive her to work on the next morning. The car that Morgan had rented for the week had barely managed to take him to JJ's house earlier, before it had broken down.

"Now, about that beer…" JJ told Will, already opening the fridge.

They spent the next couple of hours cuddling on the sofa. She confided in him about the BAU being under investigation and she also warned him that she might be one of the main targets, as her gun had been replaced and that was quite serious.

Will did everything in his power to calm her down. Somewhere along the way, JJ had fallen asleep in his arms.


	41. The Emily Prentiss That I Knew

** CHAPTER 41**

_**THE EMILY PRENTISS THAT I KNEW**_

"They know we're on to them?" Angie muttered, on her way to who-knows-where.

"Who? The aliens?" Bryan teased her.

"Yes!" She replied, suddenly stopping in place and turning around to face him.

"The whole Alien Crew. That's what I'll call them. You know. Dan, Jack and the others." She added.

Bryan shrugged, realizing he hadn't told her everything just yet.

"We have to be quicker and smarter than them. That's why you and I are going to snoop around and find incriminating stuff about Dan." She suggested.

"Wait. Angie…" He saw her walk away and he had to physically make her stop.

"Dan's not the enemy here." His words made her confused. "When you were in the hospital, I saw him talking to some well-dressed guy, another FBI Agent. He was being really rude and Dan defended you. He stuck up for you."

Angie thought for a moment. Dan had, indeed, been nice to her and he had seemed quite genuine about it. Yes, he was shady, but maybe destroying her was not what was on his agenda.

"We can't do something stupid right now and get us both kicked out of the Academy. Come on now. Don't be irrational. You know better than this! We'll find a different way to get back at Dan's sneakiness." He said while holding her shoulders, so that she wouldn't move.

"Ugh. You're right. I can be a bit too spontaneous at times." She finally admitted.

"Yeah, really?" He said sarcastically.

"We should dig deeper into the Amanda incident. We already know that it was not her blood. It wasn't even human blood. So we can assume nobody died that night. My bet is that this is some sort of a test to see which Trainees would catch up on it. Literally the next day we had this class where the dude told us that, as future Agents, if we see something suspicious, we are required to investigate. Come on, he was obviously pointing at that! And then when we re-visited our crime scene, things had been moved and messed with. It couldn't have been the wind or anything of nature origin. Hello? The wind didn't blow my fairy lights all the way under Jack's bed, intact, at that!" She was starting to piece everything together.

"Hmm, you're right. Then we had the DNA analysis class and this guy, Robert…I remember the lab teacher called him just when we got our DNA results and we were initially unable to figure out that it was animal blood. Robert would have surely known that, but the teacher prevented him from ever talking to us again." Bryan added to the story.

"And Jack started being an idiot, out of the blue. I mean, at first it was Amanda, but then it was like they switched roles." Angie looked towards the sky and realized it was dark and the first few drops of rain started falling on them.

They ran back to the dorms, continuing their investigation inside.

* * *

Emily had just managed to get out of the bath and get dressed and ready for bed, when her doorbell rang. She could care less. Let it ring.

It rang again. And again.

"I know you're in there, hot stuff." Morgan called out and it was then that she realized who was at the door.

She had honestly thought that the owner of the car, which window she had smashed that morning, had finally found her apartment and was out for revenge. So she didn't really want to be bothered to go all the way to the door, just to open and to have to contain her urge to shoot him. Because, lately, Emily Prentiss had been thinking about shooting at random targets, a little too often.

She finally got up and opened the door.

"You were just with JJ, weren't you?" She could tell, just by the way he was looking at her, with that fake smile, thinking that he could hide his worried face from her.

He nodded as he walked in.

"I deserve her hatred." She said silently, facing the window, as facing him would make it a bit harder to talk.

He knew how Emily was. There were certain things that made her feel comfortable enough to talk and he just hit all the right buttons.

First, he switched that annoying light off, leaving just a small night lamp to illuminate some of her living room.

Then, he lit a candle – the rose gold one. This was the one which scent had always put Emily at ease.

Forgetting about how Garcia had poisoned Emily and about the side effects of it if she consumed any alcohol, he poured them both a glass of wine – one that had been in her fridge for over a week now, so it was nice and chilly, cold enough to put down a bit of the fire burning inside of her.

Then, slowly, he moved closer to her and his hands rested on her shoulders for a second, feeling all the tension that was build up inside of her.

His fingers closed in on her skin and she felt a tight squeeze on both shoulders. It was painful, but it was oh-so-good.

Still standing with her back at him, she closed her eyes and let her head tilt sideways as Morgan worked his magic with those hands of his.

Emily was a sucker for a good massage and so far, no massage parlor had ever been able to give her the satisfaction that Morgan could. He was the only one who could unload every last bit of pressure from her body. She could feel her troubles evaporating, every time he had put his hands on her. And, at that moment, she was desperate for him to fix her.

A minute into him, working his wonders, he could hear the tiniest, most silent little moan escaping her lips.

His hands were magic, but what she loved the best of all was the fact that, through it all, he didn't utter a word. It was just them, in the dark, surrounded by silence and now the smell of the marshmallow-scented candle…and it was just beautiful. It was peaceful. It was exactly what she needed. _He_ was exactly what she needed.

It went on for about half an hour. He had grabbed a chair and let her sit comfortably on it, while he was untying all the knots of tension in her back and making her see nothing but stars when she closed her eyes. It was pure bliss.

Emily had a pretty good relationship with her colleagues. But some of them were special to her, in more ways than others.

With JJ, she had this weird unspoken relationship – a love so true and deep that it almost freaked them both out. Platonic. Strictly in a friendship kind of way. And yet, real and pure, as if it were the real thing.

With Dave, Emily felt respect, and it went both ways. She loved him for the way he always believed in her and built her up when she was unsure of herself, both in personal and professional manner.

With Garcia it was the kind of love that made them both giggle like two silly school-girls. It was light, it was easy, it was always fun to be around her.

But then, with Morgan…the love went even deeper.

She loved the way he always challenged her. He knew how to push her buttons and he wasn't afraid to laugh at her each time she fell flat on her ass. But he was also there to offer her a hand, to help her get back up on her feet. And he never judged. God bless this man, he never judged her. Even when he had been mad at her, blaming her for leaving, he had never judged her decisions.

"Mmh." She moaned as she felt the last bits of worry leaving her body.

"Calm down, sexy mama." He grinned. "I'm a married man now."

"Morgan, I swear to God-…" She muttered threateningly.

He shook his head. There they were – those words that he had missed so much. She'd usually refer them to JJ, but Morgan felt proud whenever he was on the receiving end.

When she stopped feeling tense under his touch, he let her pajama top scroll back down her back and waited for her to turn around and face him. Because, knowing her, she would.

And she did.

"Thank you." She smiled.

"Oh, I've had time to practice my handy work since I got married. Actually, since we had a kid who started crawling and then eventually walking and running into mama and dada's room whenever he pleases. Had to become creative with those hands. Built some muscle. Yeah!" He said playfully and it made Emily laugh out loud so genuinely, that it warmed his heart.

"You are as dirty as I remember you." She slapped his shoulder.

"As long as you remember me as being _dirty_, we're all good, Boss." He smirked.

"About that…" She trailed off.

"Emily, I can't." He cut her off, already knowing that it would be extremely hard for him to leave again. Not now. Not when she was like that. Not when he was sure that she would spend every second of their time together, verbally and non-verbally begging him to come back to the BAU.

"There are great schools around here. And you will always have a different babysitter for each day of the week. Mama and dada time, huh?" She knew how to lure him, but he wouldn't budge.

"Emily. No." He said quietly and watched her smile disappear.

"I made a decision and I made a promise to my family. I cannot make another decision now, on my own, not when it would alter the life of three people, in total. I just can't. I'm not just Morgan anymore. I'm a man with a wife and a child. And a new life. I have a new job, Emily. I have a new car, new house that I renovated myself. I even have new friends whom I drink beer with on Thursdays." His words painted a picture of a happy man. But his tone was drawing something a bit messier than that – a scrabble.

"And are you happy with all that?" She challenged him.

He did not reply. He simply looked away.

"You deserve the be Unit Chief, Derek." She said confidently.

"Emily…" She was hitting all the right buttons.

He had always wanted to be promoted to Unit Chief. He had worked his ass off for years, wanting nothing but that title. He had been Hotch's right hand, learning everything he could learn from him and choosing what he would use in his own commanding strategy, the day he would become Unit Chief.

And then Emily had come back and swept it all from under his nose.

He hadn't been mad.

He hadn't judged her.

He had put his ego aside and he had walked out on the field, by her side, having her back and never second-guessing any decision she ever made.

He had been proud of her for being such a great leader for the team.

And that was how she knew that it had to have been _him_ to lead it, all the way.

"I'll step down." She suggested, but her put a finger against her lips. He didn't want to hear it.

"This is you, doubting yourself, Emily Prentiss." His voice, deep and manly, made her weak.

"This is you, thinking you are not good enough. And this is what usually gets you in trouble. Because the Emily Prentiss that I knew – the strong one, the woman who didn't give a crap about what people thought of her, the one who was sure of herself and who always walked with her head held high; that woman had never gotten herself into trouble. But most importantly – she had kept her team out of trouble. That Emily Prentiss was a Girl Boss. A Warrior! An inspiration. A true leader. A Unit Chief one could only ever dream of having. And that Emily Prentiss was a woman who had a very special place in my heart." He grabbed her hand and put it on his heart as he said those last few words.

She felt it beating. Obviously. But, other than a sign that he was alive, it also signified that a part of his heart would always beat for her. It was like he had her name tattooed there, right next to Garcia's.

"So don't go all mellow on me, creating yourself some knock off version of my sexy hot ex-boss and doing no weak ass roleplay, pretending to be her. Na-ah!" He shook his head. God, she missed the way he spoke. She had to physically pinch her left hand, behind her back, just to convince herself that she didn't actually have a crush on this man.

"Because the Emily Prentiss that I knew…" He then put his hands on her cheeks and brought her face closer to his, so that if she failed to hear his words, she could read his damn lips as he spoke. But she _had_ to understand his message very clearly. "She would never back down, to anyone. Let alone to a wannabe dollar store blow up doll with similar facial characteristics to hers. No! The Emily Prentiss that I knew and the one I love so dearly, would call that bitch a bluff and destroy that pathetic frowny face of a creature. And then she would look at herself in the mirror and smile. Because the Emily Prentiss that I knew, knew how to kick ass and survive. And she would never, not in a million years, allow anyone or anything to change her. And _that_ is why I love her."

He saw her chin quiver and he was quick to react.

"Oh, no. No. No." He said sternly, because sometimes Emily had to be given tough love.

"Don't you dare cry on me, hot stuff!" He shook his head and finally let go of her cheeks. "I don't wanna see no sad ass face in front of me. Let alone yours! No, no, no." He grabbed the wine glasses and offered her one, even though the wine was by now warm and probably tasted really badly. It was the alcohol they needed, not the taste of it anyway.

"I can't." She refused and he then remembered what Garcia had confided in him.

"Listen, Prentiss…" He suddenly changed from witty and sarcastic, to super serious.

"I really don't want to talk about it." She warned him, because she was a profiler, just like him.

"I know. And I'm not asking you to. I'm here to listen if you want to talk, and to hold you if you want to cry. I also make a great punching bag, ask my son." He smirked at the end of his statement.

Emily chuckled and he considered that as progress.

"I just want you to know that you are loved. You are enough. And you are amazing!" He said, reassuringly.

"Oh, God." Emily laughed. "When did _you_ start going to church?"

It made him laugh as well. This wasn't exactly the way he usually spoke. But, running out of options here, he tried everything, just to melt the ice.

"Come here, hot stuff." He held out his hands and she sat next to him on the sofa, letting him hold her one more time.

And it went on for what felt like an eternity. She closed her eyes and reminded herself of what he had told her – she _was_ loved. By so many people.

He grabbed the throw blanket and covered her bare feet, as he gazed out the window. It was now raining heavily, a thunderstorm had hit the city hard that night. He was glad that Emily had someone by her side, otherwise she would have felt even more miserable, looking out the window.

"I think I just got my heart broken." She whispered, probably half an hour after he had embraced her.

"I didn't mean to…" He said, a bit unsure of what he had done wrong.

"No. Not you." She said, her eyes still closed.

He didn't ask, because Emily Prentiss did not need to be asked. Emily Prentiss needed to be listened to.

"Last week…" She started off. "I went to France, using an old undercover name of mine. I wanted to spend some time there, eat some good food, go see a show in the theater. Just, relax…"

She felt his hand caress her shoulder, so she continued.

"And I met a guy…" She sighed. "A wonderful French guy, who liked me and wanted to hang out with me. And I spent the whole week with him."

Morgan suppressed a chuckle. He had heard some of Emily's old naughty stories and he was sure this would be one for the books.

"No. It wasn't like that." She denied what he was thinking of, as if she had read his mind. "He was kind and handsome and he didn't…he wasn't…it wasn't like before. It was elegant and nice…and I know that 'nice' is a stupid word and it has a really bad connotation to it, as if the thing I'm calling nice had actually been basic and boring. But that's not how I mean it. I mean-…"

Morgan pat her shoulder a couple of times, as if to let her know that she was slowly becoming a version of Spencer, with all of her theories.

"Point taken." She shivered and he made sure she was covered enough. "He never even made advances. I mean, yeah, we fooled around a bit, and stuff…"

"A man who spends a week with you and does not make any advances?" He raised an eyebrow. Something seemed odd to him.

"Well, I mean, we just enjoyed our company. I guess. I don't know. We certainly had opportunities to cross the line. But we didn't, for days…" She trailed off.

"What's bothering you, really?" Morgan didn't want to ask, but he also didn't want to hear all the additional information. He needed the source of her pain, not the source of her happiness before the pain.

"I was getting there." Emily said, hating to be interrupted. "So, a whole week, every second was spent with him by my side. And I didn't find it annoying, you know? We traveled, we explored different cities. It was all great."

Morgan sighed. She was avoiding the real question.

"Fine!" Emily gave up.

"I don't know what's bothering me." She finally said, truthfully.

Morgan thought for a second, mentally revising her words so far.

"Sounds to me like Hot Stuff finally found herself a man that fulfilled her needs, even if he didn't fulfill _those_ needs of hers." He nudged her playfully and she knew what he meant.

Emily shrugged, because she simply didn't know if she could confirm or deny that statement.

"Sounds to me…" He trailed off teasingly. "…like Hot Stuff finally enjoyed someone's company, because of who they are, not because of what they can do for her. _To_ her, I mean." He smirked and she blushed.

"Sounds to me like Hot Stuff now has her panties in a bunch, because she finally realized how hurtful leaving really is." Morgan suggested. He knew Emily enough to know that, the moment she realized she liked that guy, she would have left. And it sounded like she was now regretting that.

Emily looked away, feeling a bit humiliated.

"So, why the sudden change of heart? I mean, don't get me wrong, but you're kind of good at leaving. What's bothering you about this particular time?" There was something he couldn't quite understand about this situation.

"Realizing how hurtful leaving is? Check." She confirmed just a part of his statement.

Morgan squeezed her shoulder, urging her to keep talking.

"But it wasn't _me_ who left…" She said in a tone just above a whisper. God, that felt so weird to admit. And borderline humiliating. She felt like she just lost a part of herself, admitting that.

However, she had no idea how much she acquired by this confession.

She got back a part of the real Emily Prentiss back – the vulnerable one; the one that was willing to be truthful, when talking to a good friend.

"Oh…shit." He felt like he had been hit in the head with a sledgehammer.

Even though she had been truthful, she never allowed herself to look at him. Or rather – she never allowed him to see her face, in that moment.

"The player got played…" Morgan, in typical Morgan fashion, put it in his own words.

To say that he was surprised would be a huge understatement. His mind could not register the fact that, out of all people in the world, Emily Prentiss got played. And, out of all the things in the world, she got played at her own game.

Sure, he could have worded it a bit better…

He felt her body shift and he held her tighter. At that moment she realized that the people who were meant to be in her life, would never let go. It made her feel a bit better. Just a tiny little bit better.

"What did he say to you?" He asked, because if anyone could read into a player's word, it was Morgan – both as an ex-player himself and as a banging good profiler.

"This…" She slid her hand under the sofa cushions, grabbing the piece of paper from where she had hidden it.

She had chosen the couch, because she often sat there. Placing the paper under it was her own way of telling Richard to kiss her ass after what he did to her.

Morgan tried really hard not to show how surprised he was that Emily didn't even gotten to have an actual conversation with the guy. Like, all she got was a letter? Come on!

He read slowly, soaking in every word. At times, he went back and re-read certain lines. His eyes went dark and narrow as he analyzed every dot, every letter on that piece of paper. He was good at reading people, but he was really bad at telling people things they didn't want to hear; things that would only confuse and hurt them even more.

So, he decided to keep his final thoughts to himself. And he chose to play Emily at her own game, as well.

"Look, you can't let this reflect on your job. Especially not now, when our team is under investigation!" He changed topic, like it was the easiest thing to do.

"_Your_ team." He then corrected himself, feeling a little bit hurt. Just a tiny little bit hurt. Okay, a lot.

Emily sighed and stuck the letter back under the sofa cushions. The change of topic was fine with her. She didn't want to talk about it anyway. She had just figured that, if anyone in the world would understand, it would be Morgan.

And yet, she didn't feel like they were quite on the same page.

"You will always be part of my team." She said encouragingly.

So many contradicting thoughts were going through his head.

"It just sucks." She whispered and he knew she was referring to both the previous topic and the new one, too.

He could feel her pain. He knew how vulnerable Emily was, even if she had this exterior of a bad ass, independent woman. She needed to be loved.

Morgan closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a large sip of his warm white wine while he tried to push his final thoughts of that unknown guy out of his mind. He didn't want to think about them and Emily surely wouldn't want to hear about them, for two reasons.

One, because his profile was completely different than what he knew Emily was perceiving this guy as, at that moment.

And two, because someone wise once told him that _"When a woman tells a man about her feelings, she doesn't want him to fix her. She wants him to shut up and listen."_

And that someone wise was now clinging onto him for dear life, shivering in his hands.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"No." There she was – the Emily Prentiss that he knew. The headstrong one who wouldn't show weakness. The one who just pulled the throw blanket a little closer, tucking herself in, because she didn't need a man to do it for her.

He smirked. That woman would never change her ways!

"I'm empty." She then whispered.

"Every time you feel like that, just remember that the Emily Prentiss that I knew…" He leaned over, his mouth now almost pressed against her ear, as if what he was about to say next had to be heard by her only.

"…She didn't need no man to fulfill her." He whispered.

She smiled. Throughout this whole evening, Morgan had painted a picture of this Emily Prentiss person that he knew before and the Emily that was now all broken, in his arms, quite liked the woman he was telling her about. She sounded awesome.

Finally, she let her body have the rest it needed, now that her mind was a little bit cleared. Just a tiny little bit.

She sighed, exhaling all the negativity, and tried to breathe in some fresh air after that. Then she closed her eyes, just for a second…and she was asleep before she knew it.


	42. You Can't Leave Now

** CHAPTER 42**

_**YOU CAN'T LEAVE NOW**_

Morgan was beat.

He had left his wife and kid at 5 pm on a Sunday, after which he had taken a few different means of transport, to get him to the airport, where he had spent two and a half miserable hours, bored out of his mind, before his flight had gotten canceled, at first, and then re-routed to someplace else. And since there was no chance in Hell he would back down and go back home, he took the damned suggested route, ending up in LAX, but not before hours of turbulence and some light nausea that he would never admit to. He was a tough guy and tough guys were tough flyers.

From LAX he had been forced to beg and threaten just about twenty different airport employees, so he could get on the first flight to where he needed to go. His flight insurance had offered him one option and that flight would have let him be at the BAU after lunch. This was not an option. So, he had bribed his way into boarding a way earlier flight, one which price was sadly not covered by the insurance.

But the worst of all – he had kissed his son goodbye and he would only get to see him again after a few more days. This was the first time Morgan was away from him since the second he was born. It sucked.

He had left his wife in a cold, empty bed, so he would go hold another woman. And, the angel that she was, she had absolutely no objections about it.

He looked down at Emily, who seemed comfortable in his lap, but also he knew she would have a massive neck ache in the morning, from the position she was now sleeping in.

_"Please tell me she'll be okay."_ JJ texted Morgan at 04:31 am. Just because she knew that he wasn't sleeping either.

_"It's Emily, JJ. She would always be okay, no matter what."_ He texted back immediately.

He then took JJ's silence as a sign that she had finally went to bed.

At 04:49 she texted again.

_"__You can't leave now__."_ He couldn't figure out if she was insisting…or begging. Maybe even both?

He did not reply. He just held Emily as she slept and each time she started to fidget, his hand would rub her shoulder so softly that she would forget about her nightmare and just keep on sleeping calmly.

* * *

"Good morning, Trainees." They got greeted once they dragged themselves to the auditorium after their morning PFT on Tuesday.

"She's hot." Bryan commented, the second he laid eyes on their new teacher.

"Can you, please, stop crushing on every female Agent you see?" Angie rolled her eyes.

"Oh, no. Nobody can top my favorite Agent Hotness." He smirked. Something about that woman just…ugh. He sighed.

"I am Supervisory Special Agent Clara Seger from the IRT – that's the International Response Team, here at the Bureau." She smiled and she was absolutely stunning. Her hair was golden brown, a little over shoulder length, curled up and Angie applauded this woman's desire to wake up probably one extra hour earlier, so she'd put herself together like that. Fresh make-up, bouncy beach waves, that cool nude lipgloss that was making her lips shine each time the artificial light in the auditorium hit them. She was gorgeous, with those deep eyes and her perfectly feminine body, that posture she had and the way she handled herself at ease and seemed so well-spoken, now facing a huge group of strangers.

"I wanted to introduce myself, because I took a glimpse of what Dan had written, as my introductory speech…and God, guys...it makes me sound like a robot." She laughed, grabbing a piece of paper from the back pocket of her black pants and starting to read in a very dramatic tone.

_"Well-traveled and multi-lingual cultural anthropologist…"_ She rolled her eyes, making every last person in that room laugh.

_"Fluent in 13 languages, including Thai, French, Japanese, and Creole…"_ She continued reading.

"Like, who even cares about Creole, right?" She added a little commentary and she was, by now, the best and coolest teacher at the academy.

_"She knows everything about everything."_ She read some more of Dan's speech.

"She's a goddamned Unicorn, too!" She added in her own words.

She could hear the Trainees whisper stuff and she smirked. It was a good thing when people were talking about you, and Clara knew it.

"Alright now, here's the tea, guys…" She tossed Dan's paper in the bin, keeping it real.

"In 2013, I ran from the FBI like a bitch. Then re-joined in 2016, because running away really gave me no peace of mind, at all." She said with a tiny smile.

People kept on chuckling at the way she spoke. A lot of the Trainees were quite young, so her words and phrases made her so relatable to them.

"Seriously, though. I've made colossal mistakes in my life and in my career. I've been a huge disappointment to people – both in my personal and professional life." She continued.

When she met disbelief in their eyes, she kept on talking.

"Raise your hand if you haven't." She urged them and gave them a painful ten seconds of time to do so.

No hand was raised.

"Look around." She smirked, getting the feedback she wanted.

Trainees looked left and right, not seeing a single hand up in the air. They all laughed one more time.

"That's right. I'm not perfect. You guys are not perfect. We may never be. But perfection is not what the Academy is trying to teach you." She started walking left and right, because that podium was just too damn huge and she felt like a dot on a piece of paper, just standing in the middle of it.

"You are here to learn how to learn from your mistakes. Yes, you heard that right." She confirmed. "Our goal is to shape you into future Agents who know how to handle themselves and, sure, who make less mistakes. But, most importantly – Agents who know how to ask for help and guidance, when they need it. I am here to teach you about all things human…"

She trailed off, making them think she was going to be some sort of a shrink to the class. Maybe she was teaching forensic psychology? Was she a yoga teacher? What the Hell was she?

"Can anyone guess which class I'm teaching?" She asked. "Oh, and it's clearly not Ballistics. Sorry, your schedule had to be changed in the last minute. That class is going to be held tomorrow morning, instead."

Bryan had just checked the schedule, indeed. They were supposed to have a lesson on firearms that morning.

Angie put her hand up and, after Clara gave her the word, she shot her best guess.

"Forensic anthropology!" Angie smiled, already interested in the subject.

"That's right, Trainee….uh, sorry, I don't know your name." Clara commented.

"Oh, don't sweat it. You will!" Angie smirked, instead of introducing herself. Because she was the only person smug enough to do so.

Clara sighed, trying to refrain from rolling her eyes.

"It's Trainee Angela Hunter, Miss Seger." Bryan commented, before Angie would seem rude.

"Mhm." Clara suppressed a smile. "Oh, and it's Clara. Come on, it's true I'm working with bones and human remains, but I don't think I'm old enough to be called anything other than just Clara."

People giggled. Yes, she was very relatable.

"Now, a little introduction to the course. What the Hell is forensic anthropology?" She clicked the remote that she was playing with in her right hand and her first slide of the lecture appeared on the screen behind her.

"Forensic anthropology is a special sub-field of physical anthropology – and that is the study of human remains; that involves applying skeletal analysis and techniques in archaeology to solving criminal cases." She gave them the official explanation of it.

"Basically, you get a bone and you sit and look at it for a while. You have to analyze it in certain ways and then you're like: Oh yeah, that was a Caucasian dude and he probably died about 110 years ago." She laughed herself, because…if only her job was as easy and quick as it sounded to be.

"So, what does a forensic anthropologist do here, at the FBI? Why not work in, like, a space where bones are being analyzed?" She asked herself two rhetorical questions, before answering them both. "We analyze forensic evidence to determine causes of death, circumstantial evidence and types of crimes committed. And we don't work at designated places for anthropologists, because they do not exist. You work where the remains are. You work where you are asked to go work. It's both cool…and a pain. I mean, you have to be flexible. You can get called in, in the middle of the night, and you _have_ to go. In my time away from the Bureau, during those three years, I've traveled the world, learning new things and trying out different techniques. And let me tell you something – it felt damn good being able to try stuff that people frowned upon, since I no longer had that badge to only force me to do it all the legal way…"

She trailed off, remembering a few stunts she had done in her solo career.

"Man, that felt good!" She stated before continuing with the actual lecture.

The four-hour class went by so quickly, that people had to check their watches to see if there had been a mistake, once Clara told them the class was over.

"See you next week. Also, the lack of extra reading for this course is due to the fact that I am an idiot and I completely forgot to come up with a reading list for you, guys, even if I was assigned to lead a class, like, a week ago." She pursed her lips. She was slacking off as a teacher. "But, like I said, nobody is perfect. Don't worry – you're getting your book suggestions next week…that's if I don't forget it, again."

Trainees now felt comfortable enough to just wave at her before they left the auditorium. A wave? As if they were friends. She appreciated it, that was exactly the kind of relationship she wanted to establish with them.

"Hi." It took Angie five seconds to walk over to Clara when she dismissed the class.

"Hello, Trainee Hunter." She smiled.

"Oh, it's just Angie. Or Angela. Honestly, call me whatever you want." She said sincerely before she simply stared at Clara.

"Is there a question in there?" Clara urged the kid to speak.

"Yeah…But it's a weird one." Angie shrugged.

"Something is telling me to get used to those, coming from you, huh?" Clara suggested and Angie nodded.

"Where's that lip-gloss from?" Angie said, biting the side of her bottom lip.

Clara burst out in laughter. That was the most random thing that had ever happened to her in her whole entire life.

"Get out of here, Angela." She kept on laughing, trying to work out if that kid was only joking. Or, was she actually serious?

* * *

"Guys, I think they're revising my case, you know, the Mexico jail one." Reid said to the few people who were punctual to their Tuesday morning breakfast club meeting at the diner.

"And where's JJ?" He couldn't help but notice she was not there yet. JJ was always punctual.

"On her way." Emily stated, as she was just walking in, along with Morgan.

"Luke is parking outside right now and he has Garcia with him." Morgan added.

That only meant Matt was missing. And Tara, but they were used to her being late anyway.

"Sorry, guys. The young one cried, the eldest one refused to get out of bed, and the twins were just, ugh. Ugh man. Ugh!" Matt walked in with under eye bags that almost beat Emily's. Almost.

JJ laughed, as she was walking in when Matt explained his reasons for being late.

"Parenthood!" She stated. "They say it is a wonderful thing…" She trailed off and laughed.

This morning JJ had put a bit more make-up on, a bit more effort in herself. But, what was she hiding under all of this concealer?

"Reid, how come you think your case has been reopened? We dealt with this, years ago." Emily kept the conversation going. They had a lot to discuss, and very little time.

"I might just be paranoid. But last night I had a dream. A nightmare, where I was at my desk and I started coughing and I remember wanting to clean the surface of my desk and there was this…white dust. Everywhere." He shared.

Emily wouldn't put it past the Section Chief to plant drugs, just to incriminate Reid and to make the Superiors re-open his old case. And that would be the end of Emily's career. She had done something quite illegal, back in the days, just to save Reid's ass. She had once gotten away with it, barely. But she knew that if yet another investigation came up, along with the other evidence that had been collected against them for this whole week, well, that would ruin her. And the team.

"Guys, we are acting very guilty right now." Emily stated. "Look at us – we're meeting miles away from work and our homes. We are keeping a low profile and we hang out around the office like we have something to hide. And yeah, we have our skeletons in the closet, but we won't let some vindictive bitch take us down. There's one of her. There's plenty of us." Her hand gestured across the table. They were, indeed, quite the gang.

"I'm just here for emotional support. And drinks after hours." Morgan smirked, but they could hear the regret in his voice.

"Yeah, but if we pretend like nothing is going on, that would be negligence. So, either way, it's not a good option for us. Plus, we are not on active duty right now. I mean, yes, we are, but we are not getting any cases assigned to us. What are we supposed to do – walk around the office with our hands in our pockets?" Rossi argued.

"You said it, Dave!" Emily smiled. "We are now clear to be on active duty. So, let's work. Let's get things done. Let's keep ourselves busy."

"But how? We can't work on a case if we are not invited and assigned to it." JJ liked Emily's enthusiasm, but she had to back Rossi up.

"Leave that to your Unit Chief." Emily said proudly.

JJ shot her a glance. There was determination in Emily's eyes. There was self-confidence in her posture. There was Emily Prentiss inside of that body across the table.

After that, they discussed side things, such as kids, silly old photos of theirs, and cars. When their breakfast was done, they all hurried to their cars.

"You are a sexy chocolate magician." Garcia walked fast, trying to keep up with Morgan's pace, as she whispered to him.

"Woman, you know how to keep my ego all the way up there." He smirked, his hand rising to point the height that his ego had reached after her supportive words.

"I shall say…just the package I needed in my life." Garcia commented naughtily, remembering Morgan's vague e-mail.

She got it now. That was why he had only written a few lines. He wanted it to be a surprise. He didn't send her a gift. He had flown across the ocean, to give her the gift of being with him, once again. Even if it would only last for a few days. And even if he was actually there for Emily.

"Oh heyyy, I'm a married man now, BabyGirl!" He said jokingly, as Garcia was quite literal with her eyes, now fixated on the package she was talking about.

"Fine. I don't want _you_. I just want the package!" She could have refrained from biting her lips as she said those words, but she simply did not want to.

Morgan laughed again, he seemed happy, but she could feel the pain he was going through – being there, with them…and yet, not being there, with them at all.

Garcia then walked to Luke's car, who was her designated driver for the day, while Morgan got in Emily's car and so JJ finally got her car back after lending it to Morgan the previous night.

"Thank you." JJ mouthed to him from the distance and saw his tiny nod back at her, right before he got in the driver's seat.

* * *

_DISCLAIMER: Agent Clara Seger is a character from Criminal Minds: Beyond Borders!_


	43. Sweet Vanilla Cupcakes

** CHAPTER 43**

_**SWEET VANILLA CUPCAKES**_

When the team got to the main FBI building, Emily disappeared from their sight. No explanation.

Three hours later, she came back, just before lunch, and she asked for another meeting.

"JJ, you're off to Kansas for the next couple of days. One of our fellow Units is short out of a liaison figure and, given the complicity of the case they are working on, they could really use a helping hand from someone who knows what they are doing." Emily stated, out of nowhere.

"Go, Dorothy!" Luke laughed at JJ for having to go to Kansas, out of all places.

"Uh. Okay." JJ replied, a bit unsure of what was going on.

"Reid, you will be giving lectures at the FBI Academy this week. They just had a sudden and very suspicious cancellation of three of their regular classes for this week's schedule." Emily smirked. Sudden and suspicious? Yeah, not if _she_ had something to do with that.

"You are covering two of those. Any topic you want." Emily added and Reid clapped his hands, like a happy child.

"I'm thinking something light for the first one." He muttered to himself. "Quantum physics! Yes, perfect!"

"Oh, dear Lord, have mercy upon the souls of those poor kids…" Rossi laughed, sitting right next to Reid, hearing his loud thinking.

"Funny you should chime in." Emily then looked at Rossi. "Reid is teaching two of those three classes. And you are teaching the third one."

Rossi's eyebrows rose. What the Hell was going on with Emily and all those sudden new assignments?

"I'm sure there is plenty that those Trainees can learn from you." Emily added, before she turned his attention to the rest of the team.

Each member got assigned to a different Unit for the following days.

"Me? What about me?" Garcia was afraid to ask, when she noticed that Emily was done assigning new tasks and she hadn't yet mentioned her, at all.

"You, my dearest Garcia, are going to be my eyes and ears." Emily smiled.

And it was a genuine smile. The kind of smile that the Emily Prentiss that Morgan once knew, would put on her face when she was extremely content with a plan that she had just come up with. Confident, even.

"Oh, I've always wanted to be a spy." Garcia commented happily.

She had once been obsessed with Emily's past, when she learned about her involvement in the CIA and all the spy work she had done before the FBI. And yet, she didn't even know half of it.

"It's not as glamorous as they make it seem on TV." Emily leaned in and whispered those words to Garcia.

"So, uh, lunch?" Tara asked after a long moment of silence.

"Yes, you guys can go to lunch. And then you can go get briefed by your new temporary units." Emily said, that content smile still on her lips.

"But, what about you?" JJ asked, because in all of this, Emily failed to let them know what _her_ weekly plans were.

"I'll be hanging out with this colorful lucky charm over here." She pat Garcia's shoulder and felt her almost explode with excitement.

"Oh and guys?" Emily spoke when everyone was getting up from their seats and starting to walk towards the door.

"Knock 'em dead!" Emily added with a smirk.

"You got it, Chief!" JJ nodded at her before she left for her lunch break.

It was weird to have Morgan there. Emily didn't want to exclude him, and yet she _had_ to. Then, she also didn't want to mention how he wasn't part of any of this, so she didn't. And through all of it, she felt so incredibly awkward. But everyone knew how the situation was and they understood what was going on.

Usually, the BAU would eat together.

But, given the unusual circumstances, that day they split up.

Some of them got some snacks from the vending machines, before they sat on their computers, researching everything they needed to know about their new temporary Units.

Others grabbed a hotdog after a long stress-relieving run outside.

"So, can I wear a mask? Do I need a spy name? Because, I have a few options. Oh, I've been waiting to use one of my spy names for so long." Garcia shot at Emily, as soon as they were on their own.

"Garcia, if your spy name is anything like Sparkly Kitten, I can bet you every single soul in the world would know whose face is hiding behind it. Even if you put a mask on." Emily laughed.

Garcia frowned.

"Glittery Kitty-Kat." She muttered, correcting Emily's suggestion with, basically, the same thing.

She followed Emily like a good puppy, all the way to her office upstairs, and she watched her grab a few things and then stick them in her bag. Her gun being one of them.

"Are you still on with Kevin?" Emily asked casually, since Garcia had been on and off with the guy for a while now.

"Oh, I mentally dumped his ass the second I saw Morgan." Garcia smirked. "But, but, but…We're still kind of on. Casually. Sometimes. You know?" She stuttered.

"I really do not want to know." Emily rolled her eyes while zipping her oversized handbag and walking towards the door.

Garcia then found herself running, trying to catch up with Emily, all the way to the floor and corridor where Kevin worked. She was torn between letting Emily talk to Kevin and maybe not finding the truth out; and being the one to talk to Emily about it, herself. Luckily for her, she didn't catch up soon enough.

"Hello there, Kevin!" Emily said nicely, as she barged into the office. "You wouldn't mind joining me and this lady over here, for a coffee, would you?"

Kevin looked at Emily with discomfort.

"Oh…" Emily realized something at that moment.

"Yeah, I didn't want to bother you with, you know, _my_ problems." Garcia shrugged, looking down at the floor guiltily.

Kevin stood still and quiet like a mouse.

"Nevermind. My bad." Emily said awkwardly as they left the room.

"When?" She asked Garcia.

"A while ago, actually." Garcia replied. "And then _that_ case happened….and I just…you had a lot on your plate."

"I have the overwhelming feeling that you're not the only who has been hiding things from me lately." Emily stated, but she had no strength to waste on being mad about that.

Garcia just nodded, because there were a ton of things that Emily was currently clueless about.

"Well, we need a new mastermind on our team now." She said, sitting on a bench in the outside area, as they had just exited the building. She needed some fresh air. And junk food.

"There might be someone…" Garcia said hesitantly and it got Emily intrigued.

"Oh?" She smirked, being able to read Garcia like an open book.

"He's uh, he's new around here. He just got transferred from New York. Uh, he uh, he is good at computers uh…" Garcia stuttered and Emily was enjoying this so much.

"Mhm. And?" She urged her to continue.

"And electronics. He's really good at electronics. And codes. He writes code. Obviously." Garcia was just the cutest.

"Oh, he's good at code, too?" Emily was pulling her strings so hard that they would snap at any time.

"Yah." Garcia nodded.

"Tell me, G…" She moved to sit closer to Garcia. "What else is he good at?" She asked, in that deep, dark and suggestive voice that cracked Garcia like an egg.

"Okay, fine. Yes, okay. He's kind of cute and we kind of went on a few dates. And I kind of like him. And he's kind of really cute, okay?" Her words made Emily chuckle.

"Let me guess – he's also quite cute?" She suggested, making sure that Garcia had no idea that she had already called him cute twice in her previous statement.

"So damn cute!" Garcia nearly squealed. "He's got dimples when he smiles. Dimples! Yaikes!" She said with enthusiasm in her voice.

Emily then realized how attracted she was to dimples as well. A certain someone from her very recent past had the cutest little dimples when he smiled, too.

And then she realized that, in her thoughts, she just called Richard _cute_.

"God, I hate love." She said, without knowing she was putting her inner thoughts into actual speech at the moment.

"What's his name?" She added, before Garcia would shred her to pieces for having said that previous thing.

"Desmond." Garcia smiled innocently. "And he's chocolate!" She added, because she just couldn't hold that crucial piece of information back.

Emily laughed at the thought of Garcia finally finding her own chocolate man. Maybe now she would act a little less inappropriate around Morgan? But then again, who was she kidding with that?

"I hope you know that it's not socially accepted to go around, calling people chocolate." Emily stated, her eyes scanning the perimeter for food already.

"Oh, he likes it when I call him that. And also-…" Garcia was surely about to be inappropriate again, but Emily was quick enough to shut her mouth with her hand.

"Hot dogs!" Emily stated, once she spotted a place that she hadn't been to in a while, and she knew for a fact that they had amazing junk food in there.

"Something like that…" Garcia blushed, continuing her previous thought with what Emily had just said.

"Ugh, I never want to be in love!" Emily muttered unhappily, already on her way to go get food.

"Aha. I believe that." Garcia teased her, now basically running after Emily one more time.

How was it that each time Garcia was out and about with her female colleagues, she was the only one running in high heels?

"You, Emily Prentiss, need a strong man to love you. A man who would hold you and do things to you, things that I shouldn't even mention right now…and to kiss you and to remind you every moment of the day how beautiful you are – inside and out." Garcia narrated her perfect vision of Emily's love life.

And Emily envisioned it, too, for a moment. She had lived it, for a week.

When she failed to give Garcia any attention on the topic, she quickly remembered something.

"Wait a minute! Does Emily Prentiss already have a hot boo-boo in her life? Ohhh, tell me more, girlfriend! Tell me everything? Is he the guy you told me about? Oh my God, is he French!? Girl, is it true that French men like to-…"

"Garcia!" Emily's loud voice startled her and prevented her from saying another word. Plus, she hadn't admitted to anything. Garcia had tried extorting information out of Emily during that chat, a few days ago, but she had neither confirmed, nor denied Garcia's suspicions.

"But, I was just being happy for you." Garcia frowned and if Emily hated anything in this world – it was to make her friends frown. Especially Garcia.

"There is nothing to be happy about! Emily Prentiss did not meet the man of her dreams in France, okay?" Technically, it was true. It had been Lauren Reynolds who had met him and then bounced him off to Emily Prentiss once she realized their personalities kind of clashed and that it was a doomed thing. Not that it didn't turn out to be just as doomed for Emily Prentiss as well.

"Then why were you in Europe? I saw your credit card transactions and you barely spent more than a day in the same city. How come?" Garcia just would not drop it.

Saying that it was a trip to help her clear her mind would not be enough. Even though, at the beginning, it had been true.

Saying that Emily had gotten her heart broken would be kind of true, but also quite humiliating to tell. She could only ever feel comfortable confiding in Morgan about it.

So, she said the one thing that could shut Garcia up.

"I was on a work assignment." Emily whispered, making it seem like it was classified information.

"In Europe? With the FBI?" Garcia then remembered her CIA past and she gasped. "Wow, you were a spy again!? Oh my God, tell me everything!"

Emily groaned unhappily. There was no possible situation in which Garcia would just shut up and take an answer without coming up with twenty additional questions about it.

They walked in and ordered hot dogs and fries to go.

Finally, Garcia couldn't hold it anymore.

"I'm sorry, but how is it not socially accepted to call my man chocolate when this guy you dated last year kept calling you his vanilla cupcake?" Touché, Emily Prentiss. Touché!

"Jesus, Garcia!" Emily sometimes envied the ease with which Garcia spoke about PG rated stuff.

"Because you are referring to the racial aspect of that said person…" She trailed off, wishing she would not have to explain any further.

"Oh yeah? And what's vanilla cupcake then if not calling you a white woman?" Garcia raised her eyebrow, feeling like she had argued her case perfectly.

Alas…

"It's not cupcake! It was sweet vanilla cupcakes." Emily emphasized on the plural connotation to that nickname.

"And it wasn't referred to my skin tone…" She added.

"Then what?" Garcia asked, because she was sometimes a five-year-old who had all the questions about the world around her.

Emily sighed and her hands rose up to her chest, as if she was pointing at it.

"Oh…" Garcia gasped, finally able to get the reference. "Ooh!" She then stated, being embarrassed that she had taken it so far.

"Can we now, please, close that topic and never revise it again?" Emily laughed, but then something hit her.

"Oh my God, Garcia! This is it!" Emily exclaimed. "The Section Chief is toying with us. They planted some stuff around our offices, just to make us crap our pants and act guilty. They want to push us to the wall, to the point where we have one week to go revise our own faulty cases and to mask up our mistakes. In the meantime, they are watching our every move and just waiting for us to admit what we have done wrong! They are trapping us. They have absolutely nothing on us right now, but by planting a bug in our heads, they want to make us point out our mistakes, those mistakes that they have no idea exist! So, the only way to win against them in their own game, is to refuse to play the game."

"Yeah, I can tell you're not into sports. That would basically be a forfeit and it would mean that we automatically lost the game." Garcia commented briefly.

"Not necessarily. If we don't give them what they want, they can't continue playing the game. And then there is no game. No winner. No loser. And that's the kind of outcome we should aim for." Emily said enthusiastically, but Garcia just shook her head. "Fine, I couldn't care less about sports."

"I love it when you admit defeat, Emily Prentiss." Garcia smirked.

"I should do that more often." Emily reminded herself.

A guy came over their table and brought them their food, along with a complementary side of chicken nuggets.

"So, can we maybe get in touch with Desmond and ask him to help us out?" Emily asked while grabbing her hot dog with both hands. Manners were optional for a starved woman.

"Sure. I'll text him right now. When do you need him?" Garcia took her phone out and snapped a selfie of herself. "Oh, it's like, our thing. We send each other photos sometimes." She added.

"Good, then you can show me a photo of him now. I'm curious." Emily said genuinely.

"Okay. Uh, let me see. Chocolate folder, yes. Fingerprint analysis, yes. 6-digit code, accepted. Second fingerprint analysis, check…" Garcia narrated the military-style encryption process on her phone. "Okay, we're in! Now, photo…photo…hmm. Okay, not this one…"

She started swiping photos away.

"Oh yeah, no. Definitely not this one!" She said, her tone a bit scandalized. "Surely not this one. Although, God, he's cute!"

She continued for two whole minutes in which Emily was hating life and hating the fact that she had even asked for a picture of the guy.

"Okay, this is a decent one." Garcia turned the screen to Emily.

"Alright!" Emily blinked a couple of times, unsure if she was comfortable.

"Two things. One – he is hot, okay!?" She looked at the photo one more time and the guy was attractive. He didn't look like the typical tech analyst, like Kevin, for example.

"And two – if this is the most decent photo of him that you could find, then I wish to never see the rest of them." She laughed, briefly analyzing the photo. He was shirtless, winking at the camera, with his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth playfully, one hand on his chest and the other one suggesting to be a little further south from it.

Garcia blushed a little bit.

They got interrupted when Emily received a phone call that she had to go take outside.

When she came back to the table, Garcia had already finished all of her food.

Emily urged her to leave, but Garcia pointed out how Emily never ate any of her fries.

"Yeah, I don't like French." Emily said defensively. A bit prematurely.

"Fries, that is." She added lamely.

"What's the rush?" Garcia asked when she found herself being physically pushed out of the small restaurant.

"How soon can we get Desmond over here?" Emily asked, in a completely different mood after that phone call.

* * *

"Je vais te tuer, Victor!" Richard was fuming.

His face was red, his fingers were already clenched in a fist and he knew it for a fact that the next time he'd open his mouth, he'd insult his best friend with something juicier than what he had just told him – that he was going to murder him. And he wasn't even joking.

"But I thought you like American candy…" Victor replied with a smirk, faking his best American accent.

"I do, I like _eating_ it. I certainly do not enjoy it when it is someone's name…" Richard rolled his eyes.

He had just walked in an expensive restaurant, one where Victor and he liked to dine sometimes, after work, or even with clients, so they'd pass for somewhat important. Not that they both weren't.

In his mind, he was going to meet his best friend, have some good food, maybe a glass of wine, or two, and then go home.

But no, Victor had to ruin it all.

Richard was now at the reception desk of the restaurant, where Victor had been waiting for him and from where he had pointed to a table, currently occupied by a certain model-esque bleached blonde barbie who looked like she could be Richard's daughter.

"Es-tu fou, Victor?" Richard asked, although the answer to that question was obvious – yes, Victor must have been crazy to do that stunt.

"Her name is not Candy, okay?" Victor replied defensively.

"It was something like…Cookie of some sort…" He added with a shrug.

"Oh, mon Dieu! I really am going to murder you! You set me up with an escort!? Really? Really, Victor? REALLY!?" Richard was mortified. He had a reputation to uphold.

"Shh! _You_ must be the crazy one. Keep your voice down! One would think that, after all those years of experience, you'd know how to fly under the radar. Jesus, man!" Victor knew his best friend would take it badly, but he never imagined he'd freak out like this.

"Plus, come on, she's hot…" He added, as if that was going to convince Richard to stay. "And no, she's not an escort. She's a model, I think. Or something to do with yoga, like a teacher. I really don't know. I found her online and her profile name had something about a Cookie in it…Oh God, that does sound like an escort, doesn't it?"

Richard's only reply was an icy stare that, finally, made Victor's knees cave in. Richard was a very influential person, one that must not be messed with.

"I don't even like cookies. You know I'm a sucker for some sweet vanilla cupcakes!" Richard frowned, his eyes now glued to the blonde vision, eagerly waiting for him to join her at the table.

"Yeah, you could never resist cupcakes." Victor agreed. They were Richard's thing and everyone knew that.

"And, have you learned nothing? Seriously? Blonde hair, blue eyes…" Richard sighed. This was the opposite of the kind of woman that he would feel attracted to.

"Yeah, I guess I screwed up royally. You're more of a Cleopatra type of a guy - dark hair, dark eyes, dark soul, dark lipstick, dark everything basically…"

Richard nodded. That was exactly what he liked.

"So, you're canceling on this date?" Victor asked, as if it wasn't obvious by then.

"Nope." Richard smirked. "_You_ are canceling on this insane stunt that cannot and will not be named a '_date'_. Ever!"

With those words, Richard took his first steps towards the exit of the restaurant.

"So, if it shall come with a last minute cancellation cost, you mean I can't charge it to you?" Victor called out.

"Oh, please do. I freaking dare you!" Richard responded without even turning around to face his best friend.

He was mortified by the situation he had just been put in.

An hour later, given that his tranquil evening plans with his best friend had been ruined, he found himself opening the door to his home and entering, but with a very weird feeling inside his stomach.

This was weird. Why would he feel this way? Richard loved his Parisian home, he had re-decorated everything, renovated the kitchen. It looked like the picture perfect image, fresh out of an interior design magazine. It wasn't a mess and it was not dirty. It was huge, numerous bedrooms and bathrooms, if he ever had any guests coming over.

And then it hit him – he didn't really have any friends. All the people who ever stayed over were work-related or the friends of his colleagues. But Richard had none, apart from Victor and yet, after the restaurant fiasco he wasn't sure where him and Victor stood anymore.

He sighed, walking in his bedroom – his sanctuary. He had always loved retrieving in his own space, stripping down from the costume and just minding his own business as much as he could. And yet, his job required him to be alert, day and night, 24/7. It also involved unplanned traveling, a lot of insecurity and instability and, above all – tons of responsibility.

He loved his job. He knew how good he was at his job.

He also loved his house and his bedroom…

But something wasn't giving him any peace of mind.

His job was making him go crazy after he came back from that one week, his house was now making him feel like he was suffocating and his bedroom was…empty.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he picked up a framed photo. It was of him and his late wife, from the day they had gotten married. That photo never left the bedside table and he had never felt like he wanted it to do so. It was there, as a reminder of a love he once had, a life he once lived, a person he once thought he'd spend his entire life with. And, in a way, this woman really did spend _her_ entire life with him. But now _he_ was the one alive…and he had to spend the rest of his life with someone else instead.

"Ugh, Victor…" He murmured to himself, realizing that those assumptions that had just ran through his mind, were things that Victor had been trying to convince him of, for so long.

For years, they had gone out for drinks, Victor had done anything and everything, just so that Richard would find a woman he'd finally be interested in. And no results. Nothing at all. At most, Richard would date someone for a few days, a week, a month even. And then he'd break it off in the most non-emotional way and he would continue working, like nothing had happened. It often left Victor confused – was Richard acting or was he really _this_ chill and okay with dumping someone? Plus, some of the women he had gone out with were more than suitable companions for him – smart, educated women, somewhat his age, interested in knowing more about him. And yet, he had dumped each one of them without hesitation.

From Richard's point of view, none of those women were ever equals to him. Yes, some were influential, like him, so he knew they didn't want him because of his status or money. But they were so incredibly stuck up and poised, with their perfect table manners and their eloquent way of speaking, the perfectly coordinated small hand gestures and their goddamn sense of superiority. They would always agree with whatever he said, only because of _who_ he was. And that was boring, non-stimulating, at all. He didn't need a pushover by his side.

No. He needed a strong woman, one who would not be afraid to speak her mind and to put him in place, if he was in the wrong. A woman who would challenge him intellectually, not bow in his feet and obey his every wish without objections. No. He wanted a woman who would make him go insane, deny him, toy with him, make him only see _some_ of her, thus making him want to find out the rest. In his mind, the perfect woman would be such an incredible tease that he would lose his mind, just by looking at her. She'd have a dirty mind, she _had_ to, he _wanted_ her to. She'd say the most suggestive things in the most innocent way, randomly, just blurting them out during a conversation and she'd make him feel so uncomfortable. But he would love it, he would let her continue because she'd be just so damn perfect, in her perfectly imperfect kind of way. She'd be attractive, but on the inside. Although, the outside had to be pleasant to the eye, as well. And he had a very specific type – dark hair, dark eyes, dark lipstick, dark soul…Cleopatra-like, just as Victor had said earlier.

He also had a very specific woman in mind.

With a sigh, he let his head rest against the headboard of his bed and he grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

"God, if you only knew…" He muttered to himself, quietly, while looking at a photo he had recently snapped, at the beach…with someone with dark hair, dark eyes, dark lipstick and dark soul.

And she was beautiful. In the photo, she was smiling wide and he was kissing her cheek. A spur of the moment thing. A spontaneous little gesture right before she had hit the button. The photo was imperfectly beautiful, just like her. It was out of focus, a little blurry in the background, but the one thing clearly visible was the two people in it.

He shook his head, not wanting to let himself believe that it was really over. She would be crazy if she called him, not after what he had done to her. He was well aware of the incredible amount of pain he had caused her and he knew that he would never hear from her again. Never see her again. Never hold her again. Never kiss her again. He'd never be able to tell her exactly how he felt about her and exactly _why_ he had to do what he did.

He knew she would understand, if he had the chance to explain. But he also knew that she would never give him that chance. She was way too headstrong. Intelligent. Clearly high-power kind of a woman. Strong. Opinionated. She was straight-forward, not afraid to speak her mind. She had continuously challenged him and she had no problems putting him in his place. She had a dirty mind and a mouth that was not filtering things properly. She managed to say the most suggestive things, in the most spontaneous kind of way, making him double check whether she actually meant to say that, or maybe it was his own dirty mind, playing tricks on him. And it was always _her_ mind, her dirty, inappropriate mind and her dirty jokes and her suggestive way of speaking…her perfection, through all of her imperfections.

"God, woman…why did it have to be _you_? Out of all the people in the world. _You_!" He groaned unhappily, knowing the complicity of the situation.

He kept on shaking his head, in complete disbelief that this was happening to him. She was right there, smiling at him, but from the screen of his phone. A photo – this was all he had left of the first woman, no – the _only_ woman who had made him feel something so real, so true, so beautiful, after he had lost his wife.


	44. Seconds Destroy Trust Built In Years

**CHAPTER 44**

_**SECONDS DESTROY TRUST BUILT IN YEARS**_

After the morning class, Angie had gone to her ballistics job, which only left her with 25 minutes to grab lunch with Bryan before their afternoon class. But that would not start before something else on their daily schedule would be ticked off.

Everyone gathered in the inside training area, since the rain last night had left everything outside soaked and slippery.

"And the moment you've all been waiting for…" Dan said cheerfully, pointing at a huge pile of boxes behind him.

He gave them the Go and everyone started to wander around, searching for their name on one of the boxes.

Bryan pretended to be mixing with the crowd, but he didn't look at the boxes at all. He was just there to make it look like he was participating.

Angie, however, did not move from the spot where she sat earlier, when they entered the gym.

"Come on, it's Care Packages Day!" Dan nudged her, sitting next to her and trying to cheer up that pouty face of hers.

"I have nobody to care about me." She muttered and moved away from him, because it was…too much.

Dan's heart hurt a little at the ease with which Angela had said those words. It was like she was okay with that statement. Like, she had never known otherwise in life. And that was sad.

Angie walked outside. Screw the wet grass, she needed air.

She paced left and right while hearing all the joyful comments that her fellow Trainees were saying from the inside.

"Never seen you like this." Bryan said when he joined her ten minutes later.

"Well, I'm not a teenage mutant ninja. I don't have a huge ass shell on my back to protect me from every bad thing in life." She said and it was the first time she saw this side of Angie – vulnerable.

"What did you get?" She asked, because she just wanted a piece of his joy, if she didn't have any of her own.

"Just some stuff. You know. Socks and whatnot." He shrugged dismissively and started pacing around with her, because he wanted to take some of that sadness away from her.

Ten more minutes later, everyone started to walk out, proudly carrying their boxes back to their dorm rooms.

Bryan told her that he had asked one of the guys to carry his stuff for him, so that he could hang outside some more before class. Angie did not question that.

And he did not question why she was, what seemed like, the only person to not get a care package.

"I need a moment…Sorry." She finally cracked. She couldn't take it.

All these people with all these damned boxes. Maybe the boxes were full of useless crap, but it was the thought that counted. And clearly, nobody was thinking about her.

She ran off in the opposite direction to where everyone was going, wanting nothing more but to hear the silence once again. She was used to the silence. She had been on her own for as long as she could remember. Even when she was with people, she always knew she only had herself to depend on. And, at twenty-three years old, this was bound to make her upset, at times.

Her chin quivered as she stopped running. Her fists hit a tree and it felt a bit better. So, she hit it again. And again.

She thought about her phone for a second. It had been switched off since the moment she crossed state lines, the day she checked in the FBI Academy. She was sure that, if she turned it on, nobody would have called. Nobody would have texted.

So, then why did it make her so upset when nobody sent her a care package?

She breathed in and then breathed out, like she had seen in those stupid online tutorials about panic attacks. It did not work. She was quite upset, but she didn't allow herself to cry. It had been years since she had cried. She remembered that last time like it was yesterday. After that, she was all cried out. Angela knew that nothing would ever hurt her more than that, so she had made a promise to herself to never shed a tear again. And she was doing good on that promise, all these years later. But that did not mean she wasn't feeling vulnerable sometimes.

The moment she saw blood on her wrist, she realized that for the past couple of minutes she had not stopped hitting the tree. Bare-handed. Like an animal. She just kept on hitting it, trying desperately to transfer some of her anger onto the core of this poor tree.

She then ran back to the campus and sat through the whole entire afternoon class without making a single smart remark. That was how Bryan knew that she was not okay. That, plus her now scratched out bloody hand.

After class, the Trainees gathered up in groups, for dinner. Angie said she wasn't feeling too well, so she walked to her dorm, just wanting to sleep and to get this day over with.

When she got to her dorm door, she saw three boxes in front of it. She thought those were Bryan's boxes, even though one of them was pink and glittery like it was a 70's party out there. She figured a female had sent it to him.

She walked in, without touching the boxes.

A note on her pillow caught her attention.

_"__They were for you!"_ \- The note stated, as if the person who put it there knew her well enough to know that she would never think that the boxes were hers. She would just walk in and leave them there, like she had just done.

After kicking off her shoes, she walked back to the door and brought the three boxes back to the room.

Everybody knew the old Academy tradition to add an inspirational quote to every care package, so she was super excited to read all three of them.

She opened the smallest one first. On the outside, there was a small piece of paper, lamely attached to the box with a piece of scotch. But it looked so beautiful to her.

_"__We rise by lifting others"_ – The first quote said and it was unsigned.

Going through the random things in the box, she had no idea who it might be from. But clearly, someone had cared enough to send it. The question was – who? She never told a single soul that she was going to the Academy. Moreover, because she did not have a single soul to tell that to.

She started to be suspicious once she realized that most of the little treats and snacks inside the box were things that could be bought on Campus. What caught her attention was the fact that those were all things that she had previously eaten on Campus.

She shrugged, deciding that this was a really cute way of Bryan to show appreciation for her. And she also wished she would have done the same for him. However, the moment she had read about the care package giving on their schedule, she had pushed it so far behind in her thoughts, that she had made herself forget about it.

She smiled, feeling really good, holding not one, not two, but three packages that three different people had cared enough to send to her.

It also freaked her out, because, again – she did not tell a single soul where she was.

The second box she opened was the biggest one. The card was on the inside and there was nothing written on the outside of it, other than her Trainee badge number. Like, who would even know that? And why put the number and not her name?

The moment she saw what was inside the box, she stopped caring about her previous questions.

It was full of candy, all sorts of candy. After a closer look, she realized that most of it was not stuff one could get in America. One of the chocolate bars was British, then there was a pack of German lollies and some pack of sour candy with Greek text on it. Angie was excited to eat all of them.

She didn't need to read the card, to know exactly who had sent her this.

_"__A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle."_

Yes, there was one and only one person in the world who would ever quote James Keller, when sending something completely non-related in the box. Such a nerd!

Angie laughed. She was fine with this person knowing about her whereabouts. In fact, she was surprised how long it had taken them to figure it out.

Then there was the third package – the one covered in pink glitter. It looked like something that belonged to Penelope Garcia's office, not that Angela knew who that person was anyway.

But she knew who it was from.

It smelled like them.

It screamed their name.

She could almost see the person's facial features, sketched on the box.

She picked it up and held it close to her chest. It was the closest thing to a hug that she could get from them. And then her chin quivered again.

On the outside of the package she only saw the words "Wild Card", written in beautiful cursive, one that she remembered so clearly.

She opened it very carefully, not wanting to break the beautiful box, as this was now going to be her treasure-box, the place where she would put all the things dear to her heart. Such as her bows. _Especially_ the bows.

Glitter flew everywhere and she giggled, feeling like she was on a stage, surrounded by the lights, the dancers, the public and the glitter.

She closed her eyes and let herself be a complete geek for the next minute or so.

Suddenly, she was the star of her own show. She was wearing a glittery dress – something one would wear while accepting their first Oscar award. Her hair was neatly pulled in a half pony tail, while the rest of it was flowing down her back, and it was long and curly and bouncy, just like she liked it. She had some light make-up on, but at the same time, it made her look like a porcelain doll. Angela was stunningly beautiful and people always told her that. She was never bigheaded about it, but she knew it to be a fact. She liked to sometimes think of herself as a representation of the old Hollywood glam, especially when she wore white or beige on her. She was a weirdo and she knew it. She did not care. At all.

She heard the public cheering for her, while glitter rain poured on her and soon covered the whole stage. She wasn't sure if she was going to sing, act or dance, but she sure as Hell was getting ready to give those people a damn show.

As she opened her eyes, she found herself back in reality, where she was now sitting on the floor of her tiny dorm room, with one sock off her foot, her hair in a messy bun and dried blood on the side of her wrist, from earlier.

And yet, she perceived the reality as something just as amazing, as her little daydream had been. And it was all because of this pink glittery box that she realized she was now holding onto for dear life.

With a smile on her porcelain-looking face, she opened the box a little more, so she could see what was inside of it. And that made her gasp.

First of all – there was no card. That was a bit disappointing, but she also knew why it would have been hard for the person to leave a card. And she did not judge that.

Then she started picking up the things she saw inside. There were a few sweet treats, but everything else was just…wow.

A white linen scarf with pearls stitched to the edges of it. Angie could tell that they had been hand-stitched, after the purchase. That screamed _customized_ to her. And knowing who did that, was going to warm her more than the actual 100% linen material of the product.

A small box with brand new polarized sunglasses that made her look so cool and sophisticated, but at the same time – like nobody should mess with that chick.

Her favorite perfume. And, for someone who didn't have much money, Angela sure had great taste for luxury goods.

She was now holding a brand new bottle of the Dior scent of her choice and it made her feel like a Princess. She had always loved beautiful things, even if they weren't expensive, which, in this case, they were.

A pair of fuzzy socks, with two letters on top of it – they seemed like name initials, but none of the letters were A for Angela and H for Hunter.

Going through the things, Angie appreciated the fact that they were not all expensive. It didn't feel like this person was trying to buy her love and appreciation. It felt like the person knew her well enough to know that she would love a cute pair of socks as much as she would love an expensive perfume.

The one thing that made Angela literally squeal, however, was the cheapest one in the bunch.

"Awhhh!" She exclaimed, holding a little plastic bag, something that looked like a bag she'd use to store evidence in; containing a small metal thing. On a tiny necklace, there was a pendant in the shape of half a heart.

She unpacked it so fast that she wondered if she did, indeed, have some super powers.

With one swift motion, the necklace was now in place. The half heart was now dangling a little above her actual, human heart – a heart that she had felt only as a half, for so long.

The stupidest smile was now plastered on her lips, as she kept on searching through the box.

"Okay, Mary Poppins, what else did you manage to stick in here?" She chuckled, talking to herself as her hand grabbed the next object.

"Wireless headphones, so cool!" She smiled, taking the pair of pink headphones in her hands.

"Oh my God, new fairy lights. And batteries. Oh yes, yes, yes!" She jumped up and after a small dance of appreciation, she hung them up on the board of her bed.

The last object made her gasp.

"Tablet! My own? Wohoo!" She loved it so much. She could now use it to study and to put all of her notes in, plus, she could listen to music on it. That was awesome. Bryan would be happy she'd stop asking to use his phone when she wanted to put music on.

And then, at the very bottom, after all the things have been revealed, there it was – a handwritten note. Pink, indeed.

Angie took a moment to analyze the handwriting first, before she'd move on to its more linguistic analysis. She would be ashamed of herself, as a future Agent, if she didn't.

There was hesitation at the beginning – the letters were a bit crooked, a bit uneven. Then it evolved, it started getting more and more precise, until it turned into something that barely even looked like handwriting. It was like one of those fancy fonts one would choose for their wedding invitations if they wanted to let people they were head over heels with their future spouse. This, and that they were super rich and able to afford a cool font, of course.

And somewhere by the end of it, hesitation came back. Or was it doubt? Surely the person writing this note had been a bit unsure if the last couple of lines were suitable for a care package card…or if they would better be left unsaid. Either way, they had written them. And Angie appreciated it.

She started reading slowly. There was plenty of text on the note, but she read painfully slow, letting every word soak in, analyzing the meaning behind the words.

_"__Just when you think you know love, something little comes along to remind you how big it really is."_

She sighed. This was the opening sentence and it was the one written with most hesitation. It felt like she had heard those words before, but she couldn't figure out when or where.

_"__You and I were different. We came from different worlds, and yet you were the one who taught me the value of love. You showed me what it was like to care for another, and I am a better person because of it. I don't want you to ever forget that."_

At that moment she realized that this was not a note. It was a collection of quotes. And this last one was from The Notebook. She hadn't watched the movie, but she was familiar with the quote.

_"__And after I spent what felt like eternity drowning; you taught me how to breathe."_

Angie bit her bottom lip. She knew the exact specific moment the other person was referring to.

_"__It's like in that moment the whole universe existed just to bring us together."_

She smiled, remembering the scene from Serendipity where this line could be heard. Angie was not a romantic, but she had been forced to give romance comedies, like Serendipity, a chance. It wasn't bad, a movie all about the romance between a New Yorker and a British woman, who then got separated by fate, only to be reunited by destiny, years later. She could relate to that separation and reunion theme.

_"__I think I'd miss you even if we'd never met."_

Angie had seen The Wedding Date a few too many times. She spotted that quote just by reading the first few words. It had been someone's favorite movie, years ago. She remembered sitting on a couch, next to them, wearing a pair of fuzzy socks and watching that damn movie over and over again, in a daily basis, just because they liked it.

_"__Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you."_

She squealed, literally. This was where her true interest kicked in. This person dared include her favorite quote, from one of her favorite Musicals – Dirty Dancing. Oh, this was warming her tender heart so much more than a scarf ever could.

_"__And sadly, I've learned that no matter how much I care; some people just don't care back. I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them. I've learned that it takes __years to build up trust, and only seconds to destroy it__._

That quote was where the hesitation came out again. There was a small dot, like a little dent on the paper, right in the middle of those lines. As if someone had spilled something on the paper. Or they could have shed a tear, too.

_"To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world."_

Angie shrugged, reading the closing quote. She knew that feeling. Way too well.

_"__I love you. Always…"_

That ending…

Even though the ending came after the hesitation in the last quote, it was actually written in the beautiful cursive from earlier, like the person who wrote it has never been more sure about anything else in their life. Like their life depended on it.

Angie hadn't cried in years. She sure as Hell was not going to cry now. But it was such a temptation to give in, just for a little bit. Just a single teardrop. Just one, tiny little one.

She stood up on her feet before she would let herself fall for that temptation. She was a tough girl. And tough girls don't cry.

But this tough girl's chin quivered one more time before she put her poker face on.

She then sat on the edge of her bed and read the whole thing at once, without stopping to analyze everything separately. She realized that all of these quotes formed up a letter, a chronological text. They made sense, they told a story, when read altogether.

And Angie knew the story. She had _lived_ this story. She would deny it until her last breath, but she also _missed_ that story.

After placing the precious pink glittery box underneath her bed, she hopped in for a shower and took her make-up off before jumping in her unicorn pajamas. She wasn't a fan of unicorns, like many other girls were. But she liked the print on this pajama, so why not?

For the next two hours an amazing book kept her company, a book she had read more times than she could count. It was one of her favorite books in the whole world. And while many girls her age would prefer romance novels and adventure stories, Angie's one read: _Profiling Violent Crimes: An Investigative Tool._

If someone gave her a random page number, she would probably be able to quote what was on it. That was how much she appreciated this book.

When Bryan came back, he found her with one hand hanging from the bed, one leg covered up and the other one laying against the wardrobe, horizontally, with the book in her other hand, still opened, her hair covering half of her face, while she was asleep.

He shook his head, trying to put the covers on top of her more properly. He also attempted to take the book away from her, but failed at it, as she clutched it tight and put it underneath her cheek.

He then showered and prepared his clothes for the next morning without making noise, so she wouldn't wake up. He was so peaceful when she slept, almost child-like. So innocent. Unlike anything she was when she was awake.

He went to sleep, bothered by the thought that, quite like Angie, he hadn't received a care package. Not that he was expecting one. But it still sucked.


	45. You Got This

** CHAPTER 45**

_**YOU GOT THIS**_

Morgan had once again spent the night at Emily's, but this time sleeping in her cozy little guest room, on an actual bed. In the morning, she drove with him to the main FBI building and he then informed everyone that he had to take care of something, before he excused himself for the rest of the day.

Emily didn't think much of it. Everyone at the BAU was now working in a different Unit, and they were also under investigation, so Morgan had to entertain himself otherwise. Luckily, he had plenty of friends at the Bureau. He did, indeed, go see a few old pals.

JJ had made a point to let the group chat know how boring and cold Kansas was, but she also said that the case was something big and she had a good feeling for the outcome of it. Also, she asked someone to videotape her brief appearance on the evening news, as she had just gotten out of a press conference. She didn't miss her old liaison days, but she still wanted to see it with her own eyes, see whether she had the same impact on TV as she once did.

The BAU bullpen was empty and Emily did not waste a second in there. She only had two days to prepare for the hearing and she was a bit worried.

Garcia gave her bad news in the morning, since Desmond was currently working on a case and unable to help them out.

Well then, Emily just had to come up with a different idea.

* * *

Angie had woken up with the book pressed against her cheek, leaving a mark on it from where the edge had pressed against her skin. She'd wear that proudly for the next fifteen minutes, until her skin would go back to its normal shape.

PFT was a bit more hectic that day. She felt exhausted after that, but she had something on her mind.

After training, she didn't waste any time by going to her room to take a shower. She had a new investigation on her mind.

She spent the forty minutes between PFT and her morning class, doing what she loved doing – snooping around for information.

It had all started when she overheard a conversation between a brunette woman with a soul, and a blonde one, lacking said bodily feature.

She had now managed to put a name and a ranking to both women - Section Chief Meredith Fowler and Unit Chief Jessica Meyers. The first on being blonde, full of herself and quite high up the ladder, as of a bit less than a year ago. The second – a very prominent Agent, in the Bureau for years, with a lot of big cases behind her back. And a heart and soul inside of her.

Angie liked one of them and strongly disliked the other one.

A few days ago Angie had told Barbara that she always stood up for people when their rights or feelings were being hurt. She was big on anti-bullying, so now hearing that a blonde bimbo, Section Chief if she may be, was intending on bringing a whole Unit down, by planting false evidence nonetheless…oh, it rubbed Angie the wrong way.

She would gladly put her Amanda-related investigation aside for the moment. She had a more time-pressing issue at hand – to bring down the blonde bully.

Forty minutes of snooping later, Angie had managed to get some information that might be useful for her. All she needed now was for the sun to set, so she could work her magic. This time, however, she wouldn't bring Bryan along for the ride. This was something she had to do on her own. Also because, if she failed, she'd be packing to go back to wherever she came from.

In the meantime, she had to nail her morning class, go to her lunchtime job, then run back to the food court to grab a quick lunch with a bunch of Trainees and then go to the afternoon class, which presented them with a surprise.

When the class started, she joined her new friends at the auditorium for what was supposed to be their second class on witness testimony and investigation techniques. They all sat down, expecting the elder man to walk through the door.

Instead, walked in a ball of curly hair, sticking everywhere, on top of the shoulders of a slim, tall man, much younger than what their other teacher had been.

"Oh, thank you, Santa!" Angie muttered to herself.

"As if you've been a good girl." Bryan smirked, not really getting her point.

"Hi. Hello. Hi." The man said awkwardly, walking over to the podium and trying to pin the microphone on his shirt.

It fell to the floor, creating the most unpleasant sound in the whole auditorium.

"Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean to…" The man acted awkwardly.

He kept on touching his hair and it was obvious he was feeling extremely anxious to be standing in front of so many people.

A few people started to laugh when he kept on fiddling with the tiny microphone, which he had now managed to switch off completely.

Angie, being in the front row, and also being someone who hated it when people laughed at someone, stood up and walked to the man, helping him put the mic in place and do a quick sound test first.

"Oh, hi!" The guy said when he finally caught a glimpse of Angie's face.

"You got this!" She whispered, smiling at him before she turned around and went back to her seat.

"Alright. Now we can start. Hello everyone. Hi." He kept on stuttering awkwardly and Angie made an effort to catch his attention.

She smiled at him again and he found that gesture to be so endearing.

"Okay. I am Doctor Spencer Reid. I am here, I mean, I work here, for the BAU. I uh…" He trailed off. He had been asked to introduce himself briefly, but he didn't know what else to say.

"Okay, that's it." He said lamely. "But not for the class. No. The class is starting now."

Angie could hear a few people still chuckling and she turned around, giving them her most fierce icy stare. She just kept on staring at the group of thugs until they stopped being rude.

Then, she turned back to face her new teacher and she grabbed her new tablet, eager to learn so many new things.

"We are going to study some cool things now. Raise your hand if you love quantum physics?" He said enthusiastically and saw about five hands in the air, all from guys and girls who came from forensic science majors at University.

Angie raised her hand as well. She figured she liked it. It was something new, something she had a lot to learn about. And she liked the unknown. Hence, she liked quantum physics, too. Simple logic, really.

Reid wrote some stuff on the whiteboard and asked if anyone knew what it meant. Apart from two hands in the air, the rest of the auditorium was completely silent and immobile.

He asked one of the guys to come over and explain and he did so. Reid was impressed, the guy knew what he was talking about.

"Okay, now I'm going to explain it from the beginning. You see, this letter corresponds to-…" He started off, followed by a long speech about things that most of them had no idea even existed in science.

Ten minutes later, after the full explanation and one more example, he asked if someone wanted to come try with a new formula.

He wrote something down and saw the same five people raise their hands.

Angie did not, because she was not feeling sure she could answer him perfectly.

And then she remembered SSA Clara Seger's words – they were not there to be taught perfection. They were in the Academy to learn how to learn from their mistakes.

"May I?" Angie suddenly put her hand up in the air.

"Don't tell me you're a physics genius too!" Bryan whispered to her.

"Maybe I am. Maybe I just don't know it yet." She chuckled and walked to the whiteboard after the teacher had given her permission.

She took a moment to read the whole formula twice. It was way too long and complicated. And then she thought back on his previous words, the explanations.

Her lips started moving a bit shyly, as she tried to explain what she was seeing. But she felt so intimidated and so judged by the people who were now about to start laughing at her for being a failure. She didn't care what people thought of her, but if they thought she was dumb, it made her upset sometimes.

"_You got this_!" Reid wrote on a small piece of paper, placing it where she could see it.

He wanted to tell her those words, the same words that had given him courage at the beginning of the class, right before he was about to turn around and run out of there like a scared little girl. But his microphone was on, so he opted for some old school note-passing.

Angie smiled when she noticed his note and she took a deep breath. She then remembered one more thing he had mentioned – it was an exception from the rules. And then she took another good look at the formula.

"Okay, well everything is just fine…" Her hand trailed its way from the beginning of the formula, almost to the end.

"Until here." She stopped, leaving a few letters out. "Because, as the exception from the rule says-…"

She then continued, trying her best to use the words that Reid had used when he had explained the thing earlier.

"Very well." Reid said honestly when she was done talking. "Thank you…?" He added, asking for her name.

"Trainee Angela Hunter. Nice to meet you, Doctor Reid." She said politely before returning to her seat and giving the group of guys who were previously laughing at her, another icy stare. She loved proving people wrong.

The fact that she had just called him _Doctor_ meant three things to him – he liked her; he liked her a lot…and then he liked her some more.

He continued the class, mostly interacting with those five people, out of the whole crowd. He was painfully aware that people were yawning and being bored, but the few ones that actually cared, were giving him quite the satisfaction.

By the end of the class, the ones who were listening and trying to learn something, were actually happy with this last-minute substitute teacher. The rest of them left quietly.

"Hey?" Angie walked over to him as everyone was now gathering their stuff and on their way to lunch break.

"Hello." Reid said awkwardly. He wasn't good around women, especially beautiful ones like this young lady. He always felt uncomfortable around them. Unless it was JJ, because – as stunning as she was, she was his best friend and personal confidant and she always made him feel at ease.

"I really liked this class. I mean, I'm more into chemistry, but I quite enjoyed learning a few new things from you. I like the way you speak – you are so confident in your knowledge and you have a boundless vocabulary, alluring personality and, well, I really like your hair, too." She said with a soft smile. Because it just wouldn't be her if she didn't add something way out of place.

"Also, thank you for encouraging me." She added with a wink. "It sucks that you were a substitute only for today. I would have loved to attend another one of your classes.

"Thank _you_, actually." He said, now feeling a bit less anxious. "Actually, I will be subbing for one more class, tomorrow. Although, I'm still not sure what to teach."

"Really?" Her whole face lit up when he said he would be teaching again. "Can you, maybe, teach us about geographical profiling?"

He raised an eyebrow, studying her face and that enthusiasm on it. First of all, she was really young. And no young person ever used words like _boundless_ and _alluring_, unless they were Reid himself. Secondly, who on Earth had interests, as specific as geographical profiling?

"Well, I guess I could. I mean, I'm pretty much used to people sleeping during my classes, but if only just one person is listening, it's good enough for me. And there's this case that my Unit closed last year, I could use that as an example, because that's exactly what helped us solve the case. Hmm, that's actually quite a good idea. Although, I was going to go with something a bit more epistemological…" He trailed off and then remembered the last five times he had used that last word. People had no idea what he meant with it, so he automatically started to explain. "Sorry, that's from epistemology-…"

"Epistemology, the branch of philosophy that investigates the origin, nature, methods, and limits of human knowledge." Angie cut him off and continued that definition with a content smile on her face.

"Exactly." Reid was impressed by her vocabulary. He was intrigued by this girl, on a strictly academic level.

"I have to go now. It was really nice meeting you, Doctor Reid." It was the moment when she would usually extend her hand to someone, for a handshake. But, with Reid, she did not. And he was glad, because as clean and proper as she looked, Reid hated touching people's hands. They were full of germs and he would never back down from that idea, even if he had become extremely good at hiding it lately.

He watched her walk towards the door, while he replied quietly, mostly saying this to himself anyway. "Nice to meet you, again…"

There was something on his mind. Something about this girl gave him the impression that this was not the first time they had met.

* * *

"Entrée…" Richard said to whoever it was that was knocking on his office door.

As soon as he saw who it was, he regretted giving them permission to enter.

"Que veux tu?" He said snappily.

He hadn't interacted with Victor for over a day now, ignoring his texts and calls after the escort scene at the restaurant.

"Come on, man. I'm your best friend. I deserve more than an icy cold: _What do you want_." Victor frowned. He hated it when Richard distanced himself.

"I have tons of work to do, now that Claus…and Marie…" He sighed.

He had already spoken to Claus' family and they had taken the news badly, as it was to be expected.

"What did you tell his wife?" Victor asked hesitantly.

Those situations were always hard to handle, but with what they did, it was even worse. Their lives revolved around lies, betrayal, more lies and fake identities.

"That he fell off a cliff while snapping photos of the landscape." Richard shrugged.

"Oh yeah, that's what he wanted. I remember he wrote that on his Wish letter, just in case." Victor sighed.

Each one of Richard's people was required to write a letter, with a story. If anything ever happened to them, Richard and his team had to make sure their family and friends hear _that_ story and nothing else. It was their last wish, in a way, written in advance.

"Yeah, she told me all about his previous travels and the beautiful photos he has taken all around the world…" Richard could not help but roll his eyes. If only that poor woman knew what her husband was really doing, all around the world.

"Hey, if it gives you any peace of mind, this is what Simon wanted, okay? He'd be okay with it. He chose this for his family. At least his wife thinks he died peacefully, during an accident." Victor sat down across from Richard.

Subconsciously, they had both started calling Claus by his real name – Simon. They figured now that he was dead, it was no longer a threat to his identity. And the man deserved some respect, on a personal level.

"I know. I keep telling myself that, but Simon didn't deserve this end. Any news on the autopsy?" Richard asked, already spotting files in Victor's hands.

Victor placed the papers on his boss' desk and let him read it all on his own terms.

"Oh my God!" Richard gasped.

He had seen brutality, but the cause of death for this man was something else.

"Yeah…" Victor looked away. The bad news did not stop there.

"I just hope that Marie is somewhere safe, in hiding. But she hasn't reached out to any of us, and it has been over 24 hours now." Richard had checked with his team and nobody had gotten a word from Marie since she said her last goodbyes before she left.

"Uhm, about Marie…" Victor was relieved that Richard had brought her into the conversation. It gave him a smooth transition to what he had to break to him next.

"They found her…" He added hesitantly.

"Found her? God, please don't tell me she's dead as well?" If Richard didn't have enough on his mind, he was now freaking out over this, as well.

"No, no. She was alive. That's the problem…"

"How is that a problem?" Richard raised an eyebrow.

Victor had butted heads with Marie lately, but he had nothing against the woman. So, to say something like this now was unexpected and borderline rude.

"Okay, promise not to freak out?" He started off, but Richard made no such promise. "Fine. Well, she tried to cross the border and she got stopped by the border police for a routine check. In the trunk of her car, which was stolen by the way, they found the drugs…"

"What!?" Richard did indeed freak out. "My drugs!? Please tell me she didn't do this to me? Please tell me she wasn't dumb enough to go against _me_, out of all people? After everything I've done for her!"

Victor shrugged, because it seemed like she had done exactly that.

"Oh, no, no, no…" Richard held his head with his hands, shaking it lightly, in disbelief.

"But, those were my drugs. Our drugs. It was our big bust. She knew the stakes were extremely high. She was going to get a huge reward for this whole thing. Why on Earth would she go against us and steal our merchandise? She ruined everything. God, did she negotiate with the sellers, too? Did she pay with _my_ money? Why would she do that? I trusted her. God, I'm never trusting a goddamn woman again, ever in my freaking life!"

"You kind of already don't, so…" Victor instantly regretted his smart comment, regarding Richard's last few words. It was out of place.

"God, Marie. Why!?" With that, Richard's fist bumped against the table so hard that it made the paper folders levitate for a second before they hit the surface again.

"Oh, no, man. No, no, no. Calm down. You can't have another fit. Not at work. You know what happened last time…" Victor tried to knock some sense into his best friend.

He failed at it.

Richard got up from his seat and grabbed Victor by the collar. Two seconds later, Victor was with his back against the wall, and Richard was right in front of him, looking at him fiercely, like he was going to hurt him.

"Don't remind me of that!" He yelled at him.

"Richard, calm down, damn it!" Victor yelled back, because in a moment like this, yelling was the only way to get through to Richard.

"I can't calm down. We've been working on this for months! And Marie ruined everything. Do you know the blow I'm going to take now? Huh? Do you know what this would do to my reputation? This and the fact that the other guy on the job is dead. Goddamn it, Victor!"

"Shh. Keep your voice down. Please, I'm begging you!" Victor put his hand over Richard's mouth, trying to muffle down those screams. "I don't want you to lose your job because of this. Come on, don't be stupid."

"Oh, what do I know? Maybe you'll turn out to be a traitor, just like Simon and Marie. Maybe you want me to lose my job. Or, were you in on their little scheme? For all I know, you could have ordered the hit against Simon!"

"Richard, you are making no sense. Please, stop talking!" Victor was offended, but more than that – he was scared for Richard. He had seen him go down and get himself into trouble and he'd be damned if he allowed it to happen to him one more time.

"Get out of here, Victor!" Richard finally let go of his collar, now all crumbled.

"Dude, come on…" Victor tried to argue, but he knew he'd never win. Not with Richard. Not when he was like this again.

"GET OUT OF MY DAMN OFFICE, VICTOR!" Richard yelled at him and at that point Victor decided that the only way for Richard to shut up and stop yelling was if he really just left him alone in there.

"Give me your gun?" Victor asked, on his way out.

"I'm not going to kill myself." Richard argued.

"Give me the damn gun!" Victor walked over to his desk and got it himself, before he walked out, shaking his head.

He would be damned if he let his best friend vulnerable, in the presence of a firearm one more time.


	46. You Will Definitely Be Seeing Me Again

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Guys, read this new chapter with a pinch of salt, lol!

I wanted to write something far-fetched and a bit phantasmagorical and _THIS_ came out. (Don't come for me, pls lol!)

**WARNING: **Chapter Rated M for suggestive theme, but NO profanity/explicit content at all!

* * *

**CHAPTER 46**

_**YOU WILL DEFINITELY BE SEEING ME AGAIN**_

When Bryan asked her what she wanted for lunch, after the morning class, she told him she had to work overtime that day, so she would be grabbing a sandwich and breaking the library rule _'No food and drinks allowed'_.

During their second class, Angie seemed a bit distracted. She kept on looking at the time, as if she wanted the class to be over. And Bryan found that to be suspicious, since it was a class that Angie enjoyed.

Once the class was dismissed, she told him she had found a cool new book at the library and she wanted to chill on her own, with her snacks and her book.

He did not question that either. But he wasn't stupid.

Angie ran out of there, as if the building was on fire.

She found herself walking towards the gates of the Bureau property, where a taxi was waiting for her.

The taxi then drove her to a house where she spent the next hour and a half in front of, hiding in the bushes. At some point, a fancy black car pulled up and she was _so_ ready.

"Waiting for someone?" A familiar voice startled her.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" She was speechless. "How long have you been around?"

"Little Miss Spy didn't notice being spied on for the past hour and a half?" Bryan smirked, pointing at a bush, across the street.

"You followed me!" She hissed at him, upset.

"And I see now you _needed_ to be followed!" He pointed at the house, knowing she was there, looking for trouble. "What on Earth are you trying to get yourself into?"

Angie then shushed him, as the person from the black car just got out and waited by the stairs of the house. It was the blonde woman she had seen in the restrooms.

A less expensive car, one with scratches and bumper stickers all over it, pulled over. The blonde woman looked around suspiciously, but then she hopped in willingly.

"Oh, you dirty little…" Angie commented, having no clue what she was about to get herself into.

"You know how to hotwire a car!?" He commented when Angie was trying to get into a car, parked in the driveway of that same home.

"_You_ know how to hotwire a car?" She raised an eyebrow when he pushed her aside and did the job quickly.

"LA, baby!" He said proudly. Oh, Bryan had tricks in his hat.

"I think I just fell a little more in love with you. If that's even possible!" She said the same words that he had recently said to her.

They got in the car and followed the vehicle with the bumper stickers. It stood out, it wasn't easy to loose among all the normal cars, or the lack of cars, as at some point they were on a street that seemed to lead nowhere.

The other car came to a stop and Bryan parked a little further away, so they wouldn't get spotted. They ran to the building where the blonde woman and a man with long, slicked back, blonde hair were just now entering.

"Ey?" Angie whispered, pointing to the other side of the building.

"Back door, got it." He nodded at her and they made their way to the back.

Angie had noticed a jagged sign on the door, as if it was some sort of an exclusive club, membership only. There was no way they were getting through those doors, so she opted for the windows at the back.

"You do realize that this just keeps happening, don't you?" Bryan commented when he found himself, once again, pushing Angie to climb up, with his hands cupping her butt cheeks.

"Don't sweat it. I'm used to people touching my butt." She said, absolutely unfazed.

"What the-…" He rolled his eyes.

"Cheerleading. I was a flyer. So, in order to get up there, most times someone would have to have their hands on my butt. It's just how it is." She shrugged.

"Wanna see something cool?" She added.

"Sure…" He replied from underneath her.

"Push me up, straight up, in one sharp move. And then grab my right shoe and grip me tight, look, grab me right here and here, without wobbling around. And if I fall, well, try to catch me before I break my head, okay?" Her last words really got him worried, but he decided to trust her. She was, after all, an athlete. And he was, after all, a big guy who had very good reflexes and no doubt he could catch her if she was about to fall.

He did as instructed and two seconds later she was hovering on top of him on one leg, while the other was with her knee up, her shoe tucked behind her knee. Both of her hands formed a perfect high V-shape and her fingers were tucked into fists. Her head was held high, as she proudly held the figure for a total of five seconds before she started wobbling.

Bryan had no freaking idea what he was doing. He just tried not to have her killed, so he changed up his grip on her and she was good.

"You're a natural!" She called out from above.

"Sure. Can you actually get to the window already?" He said impatiently, unsure if he could hold her any longer. She had a small figure, but a lot of muscle weight, and the fact that all of her muscles were tense while holding her position, made her a bit heavier to hold.

She grabbed onto the window frame on the second floor and used all of her new upper body strength to push herself up and get inside the room. She then gave him a sign to wait until she'd go downstairs and open the downstairs window for him to enter from.

He waited, for a total of eighteen minutes. It was starting to worry him a little bit, but he decided to trust her intuition. For some reason, Bryan was the only person in the FBI who didn't consider Angie to be a complete immature idiot, unable to handle herself in risky situations.

When she finally opened the downstairs window, he cringed so hard.

"Promise me you won't freak out?" She said quickly, but he made no such promise.

He crawled in and a sweet, nauseating smell hit his nose.

"Why the Hell are you dressed like…that?" He pointed at her and she shrugged innocently, holding out an outfit for him.

"Guess it's a masked party." She announced.

"Party?" He raised an eyebrow, checking out what she had just handed him to put on. It was barely a piece of clothing.

"These looks like props from an adult movie." He added, holding his costume and checking out the tiny thing she was now wearing.

"Mhh…" Angie shrugged, this time uncomfortably.

She held his hand and showed him to the other side of the room, where the door was cracked open and he could see, down the hallway, a wild party going on. Pretty much everyone was dressed similar to Angie, if they were dressed at all.

"Woman! What the Hell!?" He was scandalized. And more.

"Put the damn thing on before we get made!" She urged him, turning around, as if ten seconds later she wouldn't see him, basically naked in front of her anyway.

Bryan hated life at that moment. "For the record, that's not how I imagined my first time at such a place would go like…"

Angie smirked. He was a guy, he surely had an affinity to stuff like that. Although, he was about to find out that it was a bit darker than what he had imagined.

"Angela, can you, please, button that thing up?" He begged her, unable to concentrate on life when her V-neck was looking like that.

"It's a zipper." She sighed. "And it got stuck to the chains when I was putting it on, So, it broke in this position. Nothing I can do about it. Plus, hey, I look kinda hot!" She caught a glimpse of herself at the reflection of the door window and she winked at herself.

"Oh, God. Just know that I never signed up for this!" Bryan said dramatically, looking up.

"Don't be a wimp, David." She then dragged him to the outside area.

They both grabbed a face mask, like those big carnival masks that would only show their eyes, but hide most of the face.

"Why are we even here?" He asked, watching two semi-naked women jump in the pool.

"I'll tell you when I figure it out." She said calmly and started to walk around.

She got propositioned more times than Bryan could count. It was disgusting.

Although, it wasn't like he didn't catch the attention of the ladies at the party.

While Angie was busy, scanning the scene as if she was looking for something specific, Bryan kept on feeling random women's hands on his chest, asking him if he wanted to walk away with them.

He quickly found out that, no, this was nothing like the fun the movies make it out to be.

"Hello there, stud." An elder female voice came up from behind him and he found himself cornered by a middle aged blonde woman and a blonde haired guy who was possibly younger than Bryan himself.

Angie made a sign for him from the distance and he took a second to study those people. He couldn't see their faces, but he remembered seeing those two figures, just earlier, get into the car with the bumper stickers.

"Well, hello to you, Miss." He greeted her, suddenly showing interest. Because he knew that if he shot her down and left, Angela would kill him. And he so desperately wanted to get himself out of this situation quickly and to forget it ever happened to him.

"It's Madam." The guy next to the woman, corrected Bryan.

"Want to move this party to the Main Suite?" She asked him, playing with a few of the strings that were holding his costume together.

Bryan prayed at that moment that the woman wouldn't pull on the strings, or he'd end up completely naked. He also prayed that the costume had been properly washed since the last time anyone had worn it.

"We've been looking for someone just like you. Big, with muscles." The guy commented.

Angela gave him a really nasty glare and he decided to play the part.

"Main Suite, huh? Who's going to pay for that?" He asked.

The blonde guy laughed. "You must be new around here if you don't know that she's the owner."

"Oh, I like me a woman of power and superiority." Bryan smirked.

"But I'm actually here with someone and it would be rude to leave her alone." He pointed at Angie, who was now casually sipping a drink nearby. If he was going to Hell, she was going to burn with him.

"We don't mind company." The woman smiled and he could feel her breath, it smelled like cigarettes. And desperation.

"Kandie?" He called out for Angela and she was, later on, going to be really pissed at him for coming up with that nickname.

She walked over, without a hint of hesitation. Bryan was amazed at how well she was playing her role, for someone who often came off prudish.

"Hey there. I see you found our perfect match quite quickly." Her hand slapped his chest playfully, before she turned to the blonde guy and asked him to lead the way.

Bryan followed behind, with the woman by his side.

Angie took her time and selected two bottles from the bar and a few empty glasses before she re-joined them.

They walked up the stairs and she let the blonde guy pour the drinks.

"We like gin." Angie informed him when he was about to pour all four glasses with vodka.

She got her drink of choice and she smiled all the way through.

"So, how long have you been doing this for?" She asked playfully, all the time sending looks over to the blonde guy and she had him hooked.

"Oh, it's been a while. We just moved to this beautiful new house when someone here finally got the means to sponsor it." He winked at the blonde woman.

"Promotion at work?" Bryan asked very casually.

"I like to think of myself as the modern day Robyn Hood. You know, take from the rich, give to the poor." She had, by now, downed her first glass of vodka and was pouring herself a second one.

"Can I play some music?" Angie said sweetly.

The guy pointed at the stereo and some CDs that were laying on the floor.

"Hmm, no, this is too old." She pushed aside the first CD she saw.

"No, I don't even know who they are." She threw away the second CD, then the third one, and the next one too.

"Maybe this?" She finally said. "Nah." And then she disregarded this one as well.

She took her damn sweet time, choosing music, while Bryan was left making small talk with these two.

"So, what do you do for a living?" He asked casually.

"We don't discuss our regular lives here. It's a sanctuary, a place where we are who we want to be, not who we have to be." The blonde guy said and Bryan started wondering exactly how high that dude was.

"It's okay." The woman silenced the young man. "My job is to make people's lives miserable."

"Tough woman." Bryan smirked, taking a sip of his gin, watching her down her second glass of vodka.

The blonde man poured her a third one and Bryan was starting to enjoy this.

"Why?" Bryan asked, in regards to her, making people's lives miserable.

"Because I can." She smirked proudly, also, very drunkenly. She had clearly been drinking before Angie and Bryan managed to get into the house.

"Tell me, what's the meanest thing you've done?" Angie asked curiously, now pretending to be figuring out how the stereo worked. Playing an idiot was her favorite thing in the world. And the fact that people actually believed it, was giving her double the satisfaction.

"I'm about to do it." She started giggling and slurring her words.

"There's this…thing at work. Some people that I dislike. This bitch that ruined my marriage, for example." Her laughter started getting more and more irrational.

"So, now I'm going to make sure they pay for it. Yeah. Friday. She will pay for it and I will drag all of her pathetic little friends down, with her, straight to Hell. She's going to reveal her flaws and I will be there, listening to it all." The woman kept on smiling like the devil.

Bryan had no idea what it all meant, but Angie did. She put the puzzle pieces together. The woman her mentioned Emily's name and bringing down her team by playing dirty, back in the bathroom at work, so Angie was quick to draw her conclusions.

Revealing flaws? Listening to it? Had the BAU office been wired? That was exactly what Emily had thought earlier, it was the reason why she had assigned everyone to different teams for the rest of the week. She had figured – the less they hung out around there, the smaller the temptation to, even subconsciously, point out a flaw, a mistake the team ever made. She knew she was being under surveillance. She just never could have imagined the whole operation behind it. Or the dumb reason for it.

Angie then noticed the woman was starting to feel a bit sick, sweating and starting to pant a little bit.

"This one is perfect!" She finally concluded her search of music and her fight with the stereo.

With a confident strut, she walked back to where the three of them were sitting and she took a large sip of her gin.

"So, how about we have a little fun now?" Angie suggested cheerfully.

"Uhm…" The woman stood up, unable to keep her balance. She then tried to walk to the bathroom, as quickly as she could.

"Maybe some other time, guys. You should leave!" The blonde guy informed them, feeling quite sick and dizzy himself.

"Oh? So soon? But…I was just starting to enjoy this." Angie smirked, standing up and grabbing Bryan's hand.

"I'll see you maybe some other time." The elder woman added before entering the bathroom.

Angie could hear her getting sick. The blonde guy didn't make it to the bathroom before the same fate hit him.

"Oh, you will definitely be seeing me again, alright!" Angie smirked and walked out of there, alongside Bryan, as if nothing had happened.

They went back to the same room downstairs where Angie had hidden their plain clothes at and where she had let the window a bit cracked open.

Then they made a quick run to the car and this time it was Angie behind the wheel.

She sped up and Bryan started laughing so hard.

"Damn girl, you got this in your blood!" He commented.

Angie moved her head contently, as if she was saying to him: _I know, duh!_

"That gin move was brilliant." He added. "Although, I grew sick of sipping on water, like a five-year-old."

"Well, I contemplated on getting actual alcohol for us as well, but I wouldn't want to risk a DIY on our way back home." Apparently, she was a planner, she thought ahead. When she had fallen behind, by the bar, she had dumped a bottle of gin and re-filled it with water instead.

"Speaking of driving…" He looked at her, so confident behind the wheel, as she sped down a street she was unfamiliar with. "You're quite damn good."

"I know. I am a good driver. I just don't like the pressure of not having to hit things on the way, which is all that tactical driving is asking of me."

"Oh, sure. You prefer to go ahead, knocking things and people over." He laughed.

"Things – yes. People – hmm, maybe only if they are similar to that witch." She then put the radio on and started singing along with some random song.

Feeling bald and adventurous, she went back to the woman's house, parking the car exactly where she had taken it from.

"What on Earth do you want to achieve now?" Bryan rolled his eyes when, instead of leaving, she started walking towards the house.

"Do you have your phone with you? Tablet? Smart watch? Anything with a camera?" She asked and he held his phone up.

Bryan, much like Angie, hadn't used his phone during his whole stay in the Academy so far. And yet, following her after dark, he had figured that maybe a phone might be useful. Even if he only had limited battery life on it.

"Don't worry. She will be knocked out for quite a bit now." She told him when she noticed how he kept looking towards the door, to see if they might get busted.

"What if her husband comes back?" He suggested.

"Well, then I guess she'd be happier about it, than us." She smirked before explaining herself. "Her husband left her kinky ass months ago. She got the promotion to Section Chief when the Bureau was under time pressure to fill in the position that had abruptly been vacated. Then it all started going downhill for her. Come on, didn't you notice the car we used just now? It was all dirty and rusty from the rain, it hasn't been used for months. It's like, her trophy – something that reminds her of him."

Bryan thought for a second and she was right.

"There are no photos of him in the house. Just male jewelry. She's a materialistic bitch who only held on to the things of value and got rid of everything else." She opened the wardrobe in the main room, not surprised to see only female clothes hanging inside.

"She probably uses his fine belongings to lure guys in for her ehm…yeah, whatever _that_ was." She cringed.

"A private gentleman's club or something like that." Bryan said while trying to look like he was helping her snoop around.

"More like a Mistress…something. Place? House? I don't know. My interests don't expand over to _that_ world." She cringed again. There it was – Angela, the prude. However, back in that house, she had been so sure of herself, without any inhibitions. It confused Bryan.

"What are we looking for anyway?" He finally asked.

Angie opened a trunk, tucked underneath the bed.

"This!" She smirked, pulling out more chains and feathers than Bryan had ever seen in one place.

"Oh, we have a weapon!" She dramatized, holding a whip in her hand.

Bryan rolled his eyes. He was still trying to get over the image of her in that tiny outfit from earlier. And she was now adding to it.

She put a few outfits on display on the floor and asked him to snap a few photos quickly before she tucked everything back in its place and they walked out of the house.

"Told you she wouldn't be back for a while." She said proudly.

"Yeah, I can't believe vodka knocked them out so fast." He laughed, but when he saw Angie's innocent face, he knew something else was going on.

"Oh, God. What did you do?" He wasn't even sure if he wanted to receive an answer. He was an accomplice enough.

"Don't worry. If we ever get caught, which – come on, no way; but if it happens, just say you were acting under duress. Blame it all on me. It was _my_ idea, _my_ execution and you were just there…because I _made_ you." She said as they were walking down the street.

"Well, that would have been a pretty cute gesture of you…" He rolled his eyes. "If it weren't exactly what happened! So, don't you play innocent!"

"Uhm, I'm sorry. Did I misread that little part of the night where I went out on my own, only to find myself being stalked by you for the past hour and a half? Like, who even invited you here? And how did you find me and follow me, if you weren't using your own car?" She started laughing.

"Easy. Someone was dumb enough to use my phone to call herself a cab. All I had to do is call a second cab and tell the driver I had to be dropped off where my suspect just went to, with the other cab. I clearly knew your cab number, so all he had to do was check the GPS and see where you got dropped off. It's mind-blowing how much power one has if they get picked up from FBI grounds." He smirked proudly. He had put his investigative skills to good use.

"Oh, I see. David is starting to be fun now. Freaking finally!" She laughed at him, because calling him David was now her favorite thing to do.

They reached some sort of a crossroad, with a few bars and some drunk people smoking cigarettes outside. Angie spotted a few cabs, waiting for their next customer, and they hopped into one.

They let the driver drop them off at the nearest place to the FBI grounds, but not right in front of it. Then they walked the rest of the distance, laughing about the whole night.

"Can I go to sleep now? Or is there anything else we can do? Just because today hasn't been long enough." He said sarcastically, laughing.

"Actually…" She grabbed his tablet and sat beside him, on his bed. "I'm going to need your Amazon access. And credit card. And I sure hope you have Amazon Prime."

"Man, I don't even want to know what you need that for." He yawned, feeling more than tired already.

"I need a whip now." She teased and he hit her with one of the socks that he had placed on the chair, ready for the next day. At least they were clean.

He quickly logged in and then let her do whatever she wanted, but all he needed was some sleep.

Angie started singing some song silently, taking the tablet to her bed and searching for that one specific thing that she would need.


	47. You, Sir, Are An Inspiration

**CHAPTER 47**

_**YOU, SIR, ARE AN INSPIRATION**_

When Bryan woke up at 6 am on Thursday morning, he found out Angie was not in her bed. He already knew that sometimes she liked to run before PFT, so he knew he would be meeting her at the training field later.

After a shower, he noticed a few energy bars laid out on his study table and that made him smile. No matter how little she had, she always shared it with him.

Angie had once again opted for free coffee at that second floor hangout place. Weirdly, Ben was not there. But someone else was.

"Had a good night last night?" The same brunette woman from the bathroom was now walking towards the blonde one, from the previous night. She held a KitKat bar in one hand and took a bite off of it, in a very weird way that caught Angie's attention.

The blonde looked like trash. Her face was puffed and she looked like she had gotten no sleep at all.

"I don't know…" The blonde commented and it gave Angie the impression that she didn't remember much from that night.

"Are you feeling a little less enraged at those poor people now?" The brunette tried to be nice and smiley, but the blonde was having none of it. Clearly, her intentions hadn't changed.

"I have to go back to the fourth floor. There is a problem with the cleaning staff, they skipped yesterday morning. I sure hope they cleaned this morning." The blonde one excused herself and walked over to the elevator.

A huge imaginary light bulb lit up above Angie's head. Fourth floor needed cleaning staff? Interesting.

She then left the lounge, but not before refilling her coffee cup and grabbing two more cookies.

PFT was a bit exhausting. She hadn't slept enough and she felt her body aching. Recently, she had been pushing herself hard, plus, she had recently been drugged. So, this, combined with the lack of sleep and rest, was starting to show in her body and she felt a little less strong, compared to week one. But that only meant one thing – she had to push even harder.

She went back to the dorm for a quick shower before going to the auditorium. She knew that Doctor Reid's class would be held in the afternoon, so she allowed herself to not be as enthusiastic for the first class of the day. She didn't even remember what was on their schedule, but she was way too tired to even care. She would make an effort to listen, but her brain was busy analyzing something else.

All of that was until the moment Dan walked in with yet another substitute teacher.

Angela's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"You like old guys?" Bryan teased her for her reaction to the new teacher.

"If you tell me you don't know who that is, I'm _never_ speaking to you again!" Angela said defensively.

Bryan shrugged. The guy surely seemed to have authority, but other than that, Bryan was clueless.

"Internationally acclaimed criminal author, bestseller, a man I want to learn _everything_ from!" She introduced the man who was now standing in front of them.

"Alright-…" Bryan started to speak, only to be cut off by her.

"Shut up! You've never seen nerd Angie until now. Zip it and let me enjoy every second of this class!" She said threateningly.

The Hell with allowing herself to slack off during the morning class. She was now beyond pumped for it to start.

Dan informed them that SSA David Rossi was kind enough to offer to teach them a little something, after years of service at the Bureau and numerous best-sellers on serial killers. This was the closest thing to the perfect Christmas present, for Angela.

Rossi was a lot better with crowds, than Reid had been the day before. They had both held numerous lectures, but Rossi was a natural speaker. He enjoyed a crowd, he knew how to entertain a crowd.

Nobody dared yawn during his class. Yes, there were those ones who were slacking and he could see them hiding on the last few rows.

Then there was the vast majority of those who knew they had to do good at _every_ subject in the Academy, so they were being very careful and paid attention during the whole class.

Then there were the few selected ones that were listening to his every word, as if their lives depended on it. He smiled, realizing that there were quite a few promising future profiler faces in front of him. He loved inspiring people to go into profiling. He had inspired JJ, back in the days, and she was now someone he was proud to work besides.

And then there was this one girl on the front row. She barely even blinked, as to not miss out on a single image that he was showing on the screen. At times, he saw her repeat something to herself, his words, as if she was trying to memorize them right after he had said them. It was kind of cute, actually.

"Okay, now can someone give me an example of an organized serial killer? Someone you have read about. Let's analyze their behavior and crimes." Rossi asked.

He loved being interactive with his audience. He usually started off with some explanations and then he went into specifics, after which he asked people to give examples, so they could analyze them together.

Whenever he had asked this question, he always got the same answer – Ted Bundy. That was the most commercialized serial killer. Everyone knew his story, even if they weren't into criminology. Rossi hated getting him as an example, he was bored by analyzing his crimes over and over again, at every lecture he ever held.

Angie darted her hand out so fast that she heard a little pop of her shoulder.

Rossi nodded, allowing her to speak.

"Joel David Rifkin, Sir!" Angie suggested "He's an American serial killer who was sentenced to 203 years in prison for murdering nine women between 1989 and 1993. Although, it is believed that he might have killed up to seventeen victims during the same time period, in New York City and Long Island. So, even if he didn't cross state borders for these victims, he still became a federal case, being one of the most clear examples of organized serial killer. Although, he was not fast enough in concealing and dumping that last victim, the one the police found in his trunk when they pulled him over for just a missing license plate. Talk about fate!"

Angie rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Uh, thank you." Rossi said politely. "But I only needed a name, so I could do the analyzing."

"Oh. Sorry. I can get a bit…passionate." She shrugged.

"About serial killers?" Bryan raised an eyebrow and Angie nodded contently, as if she was proud of her weird passion.

"Is that so?" Rossi could hear them, as they were on the first row, right in front of him. As a matter of fact, he had heard every word Angie said to Bryan at the beginning, how she explained their new teacher to Bryan. And it was flattering to him. Also, very much intriguing.

"Why don't you come join me here and we can try analyzing some behavior together, then?" Rossi offered calmly.

Angie tried not to squeal. This was getting better and better with every minute.

The moment she stood next to this man, she felt a wave of something new taking over her. Courage? Interest?

Determination?

Rossi showed her some photos and asked for her opinion on the murders.

"Alright, well photos number three and five do not belong to the same killer, as the rest of them. I also had my doubts about picture number six, but then I realized the MO is the same. Even though victim number six was murdered with much less violence, I can still tell it was done by the same Unsub. See, there is hesitation marks here…and here. Only on this victim, though. Which makes me believe she was the first one – the Unsub was just starting off, he was unsure and he was only experimenting. He probably didn't even want to kill this poor woman. I mean, the fact that, looking at victimology for a second, she doesn't have any apparent visual connection to the other victims, I can rule premeditation out. It was possibly an opportunistic kill – a high risk target, surprised by a blitz attack, as proven by that initial blow to the head, zoom on the right side here, there's a nasty bruising, but it couldn't have been the cause of death. I believe the Unsub just wanted to scare her, but then what started off as simple power play with someone who couldn't defend herself against the Unsub, escalated into violence and that resulted in murder. I believe he didn't even realize the moment he lost her, because he was too busy inflicting pain to the victim. That, originally, was his only goal. But then he got bald, he realized that he liked it and he only got better in his torture later on. Yes, the MO stays the same, but with each victim, we can see his rage escalating. Maybe he was trying to relive the high that the first kill gave him, but it never is as good as the first time. With killing, I mean. Because other stuff…" She trailed off, realizing she was about to be very inappropriate.

"He never changed the murder weapon, but he experimented with points of entry of that knife. Also, the knife used for victim number two has a bigger blade than the others. The opening looks like something made with a butcher knife, like, one of those big knives that people have at home, but use very rarely and don't usually keep in handy, in the first drawer. So, this points to a connection between the Unsub and the victim. And since it was only his second kill, and the first one was a high-risk run away from home, this means that he was escalating fast and he had this sense of being untouchable. Also, I don't think too much time had gone by between the two kills. I believe his cooling off period is extremely short and he was only active for a brief period before his sense of superiority finally brought him to make a stupid mistake and he got caught because of that." She kept on talking.

"Now, going back to victimology, all girls are about the same height, but some are Caucasian and some are African-American. This doesn't help us much with victimology, so we need to go back to profiling the crime. All have had deep wounds, around the genital area. That points to the Unsub's hatred to women. Or impotence. So, if we have two groups of victims, based on ethnicity, we may be looking for someone who comes from an unstable upbringing. Also, what is this cloth next to the victims? It's part of his signature, for sure, because it is present in every photo, but what is it?" She asked.

"After analysis, each cloth left next to the victims turned out to be soaked in some cheap alcohol. Always different, but always cheap." Rossi said briefly. Clearly he knew how the investigation had turned out, he had all the answers, but he wanted his students to try and guess them, too.

"Alcohol. Cheap alcohol. Unstable upbringing and hatred to women. His first victim being a white female, the youngest one of all. Okay, the Unsub is a white male, who grew up with an abusive, alcoholic father, who was always absent from home. He had been married twice – to a Caucasian and then to an African-American woman, both of whom our Unsub hated with passion. He started pouring his anger on that young run away girl, because she must have reminded him of his father's first wife in some way. Maybe the hair? The clothes? The way she spoke? And then he moved on to the other woman, an older lady, whom I suppose he knew, as he surely would have had to be familiar with the house, if he got all the way to the kitchen and had the time to grab the biggest, sharpest knife from the cupboard, not the top one, as previously mentioned. So, she was another reminder of the second wife. But why? What was the connection? If he knew the victim, did the victim know the second wife? And then I would say that neither of the kills really fulfilled him, so he spiraled and went on a killing spree, trying to find the most suitable surrogates for both those women that he really wanted to punish. The origins of his anger would date back to his childhood. Maybe he saw his father punish one, or both of his wives. Maybe he witnessed one or both of them being murdered by the father? He tried to suppress his urges, all these years. But then, after the accidental first kill, he couldn't get enough of it. So he kept on going and the only way he could be stop was if he got detained. Although, if this turned into a maniac psychosis killing spree, he wouldn't have let anyone catch him. He would have made sure they killed him, before they caught him. So, my best guess is that the Unsub was a white male, in his early 30's, from an abusive home, alcoholic dad, as the soaked cloth was a symbol of leaving something behind; disorganized as the victims were all left as is and the bodies were not staged; a bit chaotic in his crime scenes, always adding something new while also staying true to his MO; he was someone who was unable to keep even a part-time job for more than a few months, someone who preferred working at night and probably drove a really old car. Red one. He may or may not have had a stable relationship before, but if he had, then his previous partner would have left him because of weird sudden violent outbursts. He was heterosexual, but very awkward with women. There might have been minor instances of animal abuse in his childhood and he would have wet his bed until the age of ten, at least."

"Is that all?" Rossi said ironically. The girl hadn't shut her mouth for the past five minutes already.

"No." She said and it did not surprise Bryan. Angela always had more to say.

"He would also be unable to tie shoe laces. He probably wears those ones with the sticky strap." She added the most weirdly specific piece of information on the Unsub. And she sounded convinced about it.

"What makes you add that?" Rossi challenged her.

"In all of his victim's photos the shoes of the victims are untied. Unlike the ones in photos three and five, which is one of the reasons why I excluded them immediately. Tying one's shoe is something people learn as kids, from their parents. And we've already established he did not have the best upbringing. So, leaving his victims' shoes untied is a way for him to punish both of his father's wives for failing to educate him on things in life, simple things such as tying his own shoe laces. This is his unique signature, along with leaving the alcohol-soaked cloth. The MO is the angle of entry of the knife. The wounds are at different height, but always at the same body region. And always at the same angle. So, maybe he witnessed his father kill one of his wives in the same way and that's what triggered the psychosis that, years later, allowed him to turn into a killer himself. He's recreating something he saw, he had fantasized about it for years, so he perfected that angle and is now reproducing it perfectly, every single time." She said with conviction.

"Is _that_ all, now?" Rossi asked, this time the irony even more obvious…to anyone, but her.

"No." She replied one more time. "He also would be the kind of killer who would take trophies from his victims. And since he hates his father for marrying women who failed to educate him and turn him into a good human being, I'd say, as far as victimology goes – these are all married women, whose life he had somehow injected himself into, maybe through his part time job; and whom he hated for being the epitome of what he had needed his father's two wives to be. So he wanted to hurt them, transferring his rage onto the opposite of what he wanted his original victims to have been. Transference is often seen in killings, ticked by psychosis. The Unsub was unsure which he hated more – the women who failed him or the women who could have been potentially good at bringing him up. He sees them as his own family and, when he realizes that this is just a fantasy, he kills them."

She stopped speaking, but only so she could take a breath.

"Now, about the trophies – they would have to embody a unity, a promise, the same promise he never got to hear." Angie was now holding the remote to the power point presentation that was on the screen and she flicked back and forth between the photos. "There. All victims are missing their wedding rings. And you can see swelling on victim number four's ring finger, as it was possibly removed postmortem. Like, the Unsub had been in a rush with this kill, or maybe he had been interrupted. So he would have had to come back later, to collect his trophy, at which point the body would have started to swell and he would have found it hard to remove the ring, but since it is crucial for his ritual, he did so anyway."

"Jesus Christ, she's banging good at this!" Bryan muttered to himself.

He knew Angie was good, but not at everything. He didn't know what she excelled in, until that moment. She seemed so calm and peaceful on that podium. She had been intimidated during Reid's class, she had hated the tactical driving and sometimes in the laboratories she would second-guess her results, even in chemistry, which she loved. But there, standing next to this man who was, apparently, a criminology superstar, she looked like she belonged.

"Thank you, Miss Hunter." Rossi said slowly, giving her time to speak her last words, if she needed to.

"Does anyone disagree with the profile she suggested?" He asked the trainees.

Nobody spoke. They didn't feel as prepared as to be able to comment anyway. Profiling was not the most popular discipline in the Academy and that was okay, because it meant that the few ones who decided to pursue it as a career path, were highly motivated and clearly good at what they were doing. Rossi had seen a lot of people try profiling and fail at it. But Angela, something about that girl, gave him hope.

"Now, the killer was a 31 year old white male, living in a suburban area, driving a red Pontiac Aztec, model 2001, to and back from his part-time nighttime job as a substitute garage keeper. Childhood background of extreme violence, frequent trips to the ER with suspicious broken bones. Major psychological trauma and child neglect got the school to file a warning to Social Services, which resulted in him being taken off school at the age of twelve, while he was still wetting the bed, and being homeschooled by his only parent – the father. His schooling methods involved hitting the kid regularly with a golf stick and drawing bloody lines down his spine with a knife. During his childhood, the father had two significant lady companions. The first one he married – a Caucasian female, older than him, who vanished suspiciously one day and nobody saw her again. The common suspicion was that he had murdered her, but this was never backed up by any actual evidence. The second woman, an African-American, he only lived briefly with, but, even if she liked his torture and often joined him in torturing the kid, she ended up leaving him for another man. The Unsub also knew all of his victims from the parking lot where he worked for the past five months after being kicked out of his previous part time job as a worker in car services, following a scandal that involved him plunging a knife in an unhappy customer's car tire. The first victim, however, was an opportunistic kill. In his late teen years, he had experimented inflicting pain on animals, but it infuriated him to not be able to hear their pain, so after years of trying to repress his urge to inflict pain, one day he came across this young run away and he decided to see what it felt like to torture another human being. It all escalated from there. And he managed to leave six victims behind – three white and three African-American women, in the span of four weeks, before he was eventually caught and shot after he threatened an FBI Agent with a knife to her stomach. He was wearing sneakers with sticky straps and after a thorough search of his home, the police found no shoes with ties." Rossi gave them a brief summary of what had happened.

Out of all things Angela could have done, to try to seem like a normal human being, out of it all – she dabbed.

It was small and quick, as she casually brought one hand to her forehead. It looked like she was just pushing a strand of hair from her face. It was almost invisible. But it was there and it was going to haunt her through her future career.

Rossi, just like all of the other teachers, had been instructed to be rough and severe with this one trainee, but he just couldn't find it in him to be rude. Even when Dan was giving him looks from the side, as if he was urging him to find a flaw and to smash it against Angie's content face.

Rossi just could not find one.

"That was…impressive." He said hesitantly, as Dan was ready to get up and go strangle him. "How old are you?" He asked curiously.

"Twenty-three, Mr. Rossi." She replied, looking like the most innocent little thing, standing in front of him, but standing tall, her head held high, because she knew she deserved to be proud of herself.

"How old were you when your interest in profiling started?" He asked some more.

"Three. That's when I stopped playing with silly toys in the back yard and I started to realize that there are a lot of things in life that I didn't know about. So, I wanted to know about them." She was coming off as truthful, but it just sounded weird. "Oh, but I didn't start learning about that kind of stuff until I was eight."

"But…you were just a child!" He protested. Was she taking the piss out of him with this story?

"Up until then, yeah." She said calmly, as if there was nothing weird about her words.

Rossi then let her go back to her seat, while he continued the class with more examples of how profiling had helped his Unit catch killers. He found out that, while Angie was taking a lot of notes about his personal suggestions and tactics, she took none when he was explaining the theory – what criminal profiling was, the different types of serial killers and their characteristics and so on.

He then repeated the experiment with one more volunteer from the class and, while the guy had clearly also read a lot about profiling, his final profile had been much more inaccurate. Whereas Angie's was chillingly spot on.

"May I have a word?" Rossi raised his hand, after he dismissed the class, waving at Angie.

Bryan let her know he'd be hanging out with the other trainees for lunch, since he knew it was her day to go to her job at the library.

"What are your career goals within the Bureau?" Rossi asked, casually leaning against the pretentious teacher's desk that was in the middle of the podium.

"I only have _one_ goal." She stated.

"May I know what it is?" He asked, finding it weird that she was able to avoid answering a direct question.

"Yes." She smiled. "When the time comes."

He tried not to sigh. He was a man who liked answers.

"I think you have it in you to be a profiler. You analyzed every detail quickly and you spotted the additional photos that I threw in the presentation. I can see you've obviously done your reading in advance. In fact, speaking of reading…" He reached under the desk and grabbed his newest book.

"I would like to give you this. I have a feeling you'll like it." He said while flipping over to the blank dedication page at the beginning of the book.

Angie put her hand over his, just as he was about to start writing a personalized note for her.

"I loved the personal attachment you put into this book. Your word flow is so easy and pleasant to follow and your comparison to butterflies is just so accurate. Chapter four, I can tell, was hard for you to write, because it's the most personal example you give and you changed your writing style up just a tiny little bit, throughout this chapter, before going back to your usual style in chapter five. Also, there was a typo in the Acknowledgements section and you can request a fresh new batch of books to be printed out for free, since it was the editor's mistake, not yours." She smiled innocently.

Rossi was at the loss of words. "But, that book just came out a few months ago. Where did you get it? And how do you know about the butterfly comparison? I only ever mentioned that during my book tour, but it never made it to the book."

"Joseph Regenstein Library, University of Chicago, May 10th." She stated, quite like a robot.

"Huh?" He remembered that name. "Oh, yeah. It was the first stop of my book tour. Book was on sale, exclusively, during the tour." He added, realizing she must have been there and bought the book from his mini vending station after the presentation.

"Mhm. You also signed it for me." She added.

He felt a bit weird to not have remembered her, but then again, he had met thousands of students during his tours and lectures in different universities.

"How about this one then? It's old, but still very much relevant." He grabbed another book, intending for it to be his excuse for not remembering her.

"I worked sixty-seven hours below minimum wage, in a nasty bar with no air conditioning, at the beachside, in August." She wasn't making any sense.

"But it was all worth it when I was finally able to hit that Pre-order button on this book back in 2016." There it was – what she was actually trying to say.

Rossi put the book down and studied the girl for a moment. Young, beautiful, full of life and sparks shining in her eyes. If he saw her on the street, he'd suppose she was into music, dancing with her friends, laying on the beach, maybe doing something artistic, such as drawing or some kind of a sport. But, never in a million years, would he have guessed that she was so deeply interested in serial killers.

"Then how about that – you can come on tour with me when I launch my next book. And you can come present one of the examples, on stage, with me…huh?" He suggested.

In the back of his mind, he was thinking to himself: _"Also because I hope you'd join the BAU after graduating, so you can come work alongside all of us and learn everything you ever wanted to know about profiling, so when one day I present a new book, you can present the example of a case that you would have worked by my side, kid."_

"I think we have a deal, Sir." She smiled and excused herself. "I need to go or I'll be late for work. It was really…I mean, really _really_ nice to listen to you again and to get to learn from you. Thank you so much for all the effort you've put into this class and your research and wow, you have invidious amount of experience behind your back. You, Sir, are an inspiration!"

She then walked away calmly, leaving him intrigued by her.


	48. It Doesn't Make You Stand Any Taller

**CHAPTER 48**

_**II DOESN'T MAKE YOU STAND ANY TALLER**_

After the class, Angie briefly greeted Bryan before she went to the library.

"Uhm…" Barbara said when she saw Angie.

"Hey girl!" She said cheerfully, but then got invited to sit down and it looked like things were serious.

"Okay, so remember how I told you we were going to pay you with food tickets?" Barbara asked and Angie nodded. "Well, my boss was away for like, a week. And he only just got back this morning. He didn't really like the idea that we have someone around here. He refuses to pay you. So, I guess I'm going to have to let you go. And I'm sorry. I really like you, but it's _his_ decision."

"But…he already paid me, remember? I have a whole block of fifty tickets now." Angie reminded her.

"Yeah, about that. I have no idea how they got here. I just found them on my desk, with your name on it. I figured he had sent them for you, but he was clueless about that when I mentioned it. I had emailed him about you, but I realized he never read that." Barbara shrugged. "I'm really sorry, Angie…"

"It's okay. I understand. I mean, I could give those tickets back…" She suggested.

"No. Keep them. Whoever left them here, they clearly were intended to end up in your hands." Barbara said softly.

"Alright then. Uhm, I guess I should go then…" Angie felt a bit weird. She just got kicked out of a job that she liked so much.

Barbara just looked at the floor, hating to be the messenger.

Angie then grabbed some food to go and she ate it in the dorm, in front of the huge Amanda investigation board. She put in a few more words on the timeline and then looked at it proudly.

"Well one good thing came out of today – Amanda is most definitely alive." She stated proudly.

"Angie, are you here?" Bryan walked in, finding her on the floor, grinning.

"Yup." She nodded.

"What the Hell is this!?" Bryan seemed a bit upset, pointing at something that had been delivered to their dorm after she had entered it, twenty minutes ago.

The courier had knocked, but Angie never heard him, as she had her earphones on, playing music loudly.

She stepped out and clapped her hands happily.

"Yey, it's here!" She eyed the three big carton boxes, signed Amazon Prime.

* * *

"So, we're back to square one?" Garcia said with a frown, popping down on a bench in the yard.

"Yes. For now." Emily confirmed, holding her cup of double black espresso. The third one for the day and it was only lunch time.

"The hearing is tomorrow…" Garcia said weakly.

"I know." Emily sighed. "I have a feeling we're looking at it the wrong way…" She added, after a moment of thought.

"If she is playing dirty, can't we do the same?" Garcia's suggestion met disapproval from her boss.

"No. I fight fair. If I take a bitch down, I want her to know she went down because of _me_, not because of something I orchestrated, like her pathetic false evidence all around our offices. God knows what they have found already." Emily took a sip of her coffee, already feeling her hands shaky.

"JJ is coming back tonight." Garcia changed topic, but it didn't change Emily's mood. "Why did you split the team?"

"Because I want to show the Superiors that, even if they don't assign anything to us, it's not like we are going to hang around and do nothing. We would proudly offer our expertise and extend a helping hand to our fellow Agents from different Units. Because this is what the BAU stands for – hard work. But also – team work. We don't let anyone mess with us. Ever!" Emily said with her head held high, feeling a lot like that Emily Prentiss that Morgan had told her about two nights ago.

"Woman, you are smart. And I love you. And I am _so_ offering drinks this weekend!" Garcia's chuckles got interrupted when Emily gave her a stern look. "Oh, right. I forgot about the whole _'I drugged you by mistake and now you can't drink'_ thing…"

Emily rolled her eyes. She had considered being a bit harsh with Garcia about that stunt, or at the very least letting her know exactly how much it had screwed her up. But, looking at Garcia's face, she simply could not do it.

Instead, she finished off the last bits of the coffee, desperate for it to give her the strength to come up with a solution in under 24 hours.

* * *

Meanwhile, Morgan was spending the day on his own. He needed this, he wanted to walk around and let himself pretend like he still belonged there.

Looking around the campus, he smiled through his pain. It was bittersweet. More bitter, if he had to be honest with himself.

His feet hit places that once felt like home. His eyes laid on things, people, that he once knew. But his mind did not allow him to feel the same way he felt before.

Instead, he felt a certain worry. Angst. Pain in his chest.

Regret…

He had one thing in mind and he would not rest until he achieved it. At the very least – he had to try.

So, during his hours of wandering around, he went to see some old pals.

"I already told you, Derek. It's not something I can do for you. I'm sorry." A guy, visibly older than Morgan, said sternly, at the end of a very short, but very intense conversation.

"Come on, man! After all those years…I ask you one favor. One!" Morgan said dramatically.

"I'm sorry." It was obviously this man's final decision, so Morgan left his office without another word.

* * *

Before the afternoon class, Angie gathered a few of the Trainees and started whispering some stuff to them.

"That's a cool idea!" One of the guys said, laughing.

"Yeah, it's a harmless little prank. And it would be so funny. I'm in." One of the female Trainees joined in on the enthusiasm.

"When and where?" Someone asked Angie.

"Tomorrow at 10. Main FBI building, second floor. Room A-15. Don't be late!" Angie smirked. "Oh and come by my dorm later to grab the outfit." She added before their teacher walked in and started preparing for the beginning of their class.

"I thought Prank Week was at the end of the Academy?" Bryan asked quietly, as the class was now starting.

"Yeah, but that limits how many people can do it, since most of them are going to be cut by then." She said, so damn sure that she wouldn't be among the ones cut by the last week.

"Well, this is going to be fun." He smirked, hoping those outfits she mentioned would be nothing like the ones from last night.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Morgan. You lost those privileges when you left the Bureau. I want to help you out, but my hands are tied here." Yet another man gave him bad news.

That would not stop him. Morgan had one request and he would turn the building upside down until he found the person who would say Yes to it.

He had spent his whole Wednesday and Thursday on his own, visiting old friends, practically begging them to help him out. All he ever heard was a categorical No.

"Derek Morgan?" A male voice came up from behind him, while he was minding his own business and eating on his own, like the loser that he felt. "What's bringing you here?"

"Old friends." He shrugged, biting his sandwich like it was someone's head getting chopped off.

"Oh, all that anger, boy. Not good for you." The man teased.

It was lunch time. They were now sitting by the entrance of the library wing, where Angie was currently exiting, seemingly pissed off, mumbling at herself and mentally offending the guy who ran the library for firing her from a job that she was good at.

"I guess I'm not the only angry one." Morgan laughed, watching that girl go off, as if someone was next to her, listening.

"Oh, this is nothing." The man waved his hand dismissively.

"What do you mean?" Morgan suddenly felt intrigued.

"She's…I don't know. I haven't figured her out yet. But she's quite the weirdo, honestly. Nothing she does surprises me anymore." The man smirked, looking at Angie almost proudly.

"Trainee, I see." Morgan commented on the obvious, since the girl was wearing her Trainee uniform.

"Not just any Trainee…" The man replied. "My Wild Card."

"Oh, she's this year's Wild Card?" Morgan laughed out loud, shaking his head.

"Hey, don't let the bow fool you, man." The man pointed out. "She's smart, tough and just so damn irritating."

"Dan, I have a feeling you'll have your hands full with this one here." Morgan pointed out, watching as Angie turned the corner and disappeared from their sight.

"You know, you might just be right about that…" Dan started off, having an agenda. "She's been doing pretty well in the Academy so far. But I'm only starting to mess with her. I need someone, a tough man, to put her confidence down. Maybe mess with her head a little. Someone, like, one of the trainers at the Academy. I had a guy in mind, the one who leads their SWAT training, but yeah, he quit on us, so…tomorrow's training is going to be hard without a teacher…"

Morgan smirked. He knew exactly what Dan was doing there. And yet, he let him have his win, since it fit perfectly with what he had been trying to accomplish for the past 48 hours. Maybe Dan would be his _Yes_ answer?

"He quit, huh? Tough luck." Morgan said casually before standing up and walking away.

Dan smirked. He had known Morgan for long enough to know all the right words to say.

And Morgan was not all that mad about it.

* * *

Much like the BAU, yet another team was suffering at that same very moment. Well, at least their Unit Chief was.

SSA Jessica Meyers, or as Angie had named her – the brunette with a heart, from the bathroom drama; was now nervously pacing around her office. She had basically been bribed into taking part of the BAU takedown, or her own team would be added to the Section Chief's list for revenge. And SSA Meyers was a smart and very ambitious woman. Driven. She would not let anyone ruin her or her team.

But…so was Emily Prentiss. So, what gave Meyers the right to choose sides? Especially if it were choosing the _wrong_ side of this dispute. Why would it be okay for Emily's team to be ruined? What if someone was doing that to Meyers' team?

All these thoughts were overwhelming. It was midday and she was in desperate need of a drink. She had been a mean girl in high school and those were days that she didn't look back on with joy, much like Bryan and his player dude days.

She sat down on her big, comfortable Unit Chief chair and started rocking, with her eyes closed. It was making her a bit sleepy and in trying to calm her body down, she allowed herself to jump into memories that she actually liked.

Within a second, she saw herself in full uniform, on her graduation day from the FBI Academy. She had been one of the best trainees of the class. The moment she had laid her hands on that badge and gun, she had made a promise to herself: never put people down. She had been lucky enough to have an amazing supporting system through the Academy and all she ever felt was a push, in the right place, at the right time. So, becoming an Agent, Jessica Meyers swore that she would never take someone innocent down.

Suddenly, there was a pain in her chest, bringing her back to the reality of the current day, where this was exactly what she was doing to the woman who had been extremely happy to see another female Unit Chief around. She had been genuine, she had smiled and she had given Jessica quite the awesome, genuine, warm hug – one during which Jessica had no fears or doubts whether Emily would put a knife in her back, kind of like what she was now doing to her.

Yes, she had pulled back from the takedown, which now meant that her own Unit was the next one to be messed with. But it wasn't enough. As afraid she was to speak up against the Section Chief, she also couldn't bring herself to go on, destroying a woman who had been nothing but nice to her. Hell, Emily Prentiss had sent thirty-five donuts to Jessica's house when she made Unit Chief. And she was now going to send Emily Prentiss back home, jobless? Nah.

"Miss Meyers, something just got dropped off for you." Someone called out, standing by the door of her office.

She looked at the box – it seemed to have been packed in a hurry. It was sloppy and she hoped it wouldn't contain a wax figure with her face on it and her neck chopped off. Because, as crazy as the Section Chief was acting, Meyers wouldn't put it past her to do something like that.

Opening the package, she started laughing. It was empty, the whole box was just a box, containing a KitKat bar on the bottom, sitting on a printed piece of paper.

She opened the KitKat first, being a sucker for chocolate, and she took a bite. Jessica had a mind of her own, even if she had recently let herself lose it a little bit. She liked doing things _her_ way. So, she bit the KitKat off sideways – something that infuriated so many people. She usually never had this bar in public, although she had allowed herself to have one in the morning, while talking to Section Chief Fowler. She had intentionally bit a huge piece off, sideways, hoping it would make the other woman upset, since nobody in the world would ever eat a KitKat in such a savage way. It hadn't really made impact on the blonde one, unfortunately.

But it had made impact on someone else.

She put the paper on the table in front of her while, without a care in the world, she took another bite sideways as she started reading the text.

_"__Did you notice how you just bit that thing? You took a bite off all the sticks, simultaneously, right? You did not chop one off and bite it on its own, eh?"_

She raised an eyebrow. Was she being paranoid - had she had just read a metaphor about herself, singling Emily Prentiss' Unit out and biting their heads off, now that they were the targets?

Nah, she was being paranoid.

_"__Those sticks stand tall, only when glued to one another. They are stronger. More alluring. Harder to bite, aren't they? But you like a challenge. You like proving yourself and you wouldn't let the world pressure you into breaking one stick off before destroying it on its own. No. You are a kick ass woman, who would bite all the sticks, at the same time. Because you don't care what people say about you. And if they have an opinion – they can bite it! Because you stand tall and you know to every stick, there are similar others, ready to stand tall, holding hands, making that unity invincible! You've worked so hard, all your life, to stand tall, to stand with them, not against them. You are that middle stick, surrounded by beautiful, lean other sticks, equals, strong, powerful, holding you up and making sure you won't fall. That's what made you stand out in the Academy. That's what made you Unit Chief. That's what made you such an amazing friend to the people around you. You should be proud of who you are, deep down inside…and never forget that nobody would ever chop your stick off, because you are surrounded by amazing support that would never allow that to happen. All you can do is return the favor, when they need it."_

Yes, she was now being full on paranoid. Because all this talk about sticks and support was just hitting all the right buttons.

_"__You can always tell who the strong women are._

_When women support each other, incredible things happen._

_Empowered women, empower women._

_Be the kind of woman who makes other women want to up their game."_

This was the middle part of the letter, a bunch of empowering women quotes. She raised an eyebrow, while her heart skipped a beat.

_"__Walking over someone else __does not make you stand any taller__!"_

And that was what really hit it for her.

Screw paranoia, this was a life lesson.

She then saw something scribbled on hand, by pen, at the far bottom of the paper, as if someone couldn't help but add it after printing.

_"__PS: I hope you don't choke on it. I genuinely wanted you to enjoy the sweet treat!"_

That made her laugh so hard. All through reading the letter, she had kept biting sideways.

Overwhelmed with a sudden sense of ballsiness, she grabbed her phone and sent a text to a 'stick' that she was recently about to chop off, having caved under pressure.

* * *

"Em, your phone." Garcia commented.

They were still outside. Emily could not get enough fresh air. Or maybe she just found it hard to breathe inside that building. Either way, she made it a point to not show her face around the building.

"I doubt it would be something important." Emily sighed, now mentally detailing her new plan of action for the hearing.

"What if Morgan wants to get in touch with you, so you can give him the keys, so he can go have a nap at your house?" She said lamely.

"He has my back-up set of keys, Garcia." Emily stated calmly.

"Oh, he does?" Garcia raised an eyebrow.

"You mean, the extra set of keys that you told me you do _not_ own?" Garcia added, faking being upset.

"Yes, that one." Emily smirked, playing along with Garcia's game.

"The one you refused to give me when I asked to stay over at your house while you were away for that weekend, last month?" Garcia kept on pushing it.

"Yup, the same one." Emily tried too hard not to laugh. Garcia was a mean one when she was upset, or when she has detected a lie. And right at that moment, she was both.

"Oh, you liar!" Garcia then, not giving a crap about their work clothes or even the few people who were randomly walking around at that moment, jumped against Emily, tickling her and tackling her to the ground.

Emily could not help it – she burst into laughter, now rolling against the wet grass, with Garcia, flipping her hair back and forth, on top of her, pretending to be fighting.

"Stop, stop. Oh my God stop. Please!" Emily was now finding it really hard to breathe, for real. If one thing could take her breath away for real, it was being tickled continuously.

"No! You have to suffer!" Garcia stuck her tongue out at her boss and continued mercilessly.

"Garcia, last time you were over, I had to dust pink glitter off my bed for the next month!" Emily continued laughing and rolling around, trying to escape.

"Well, I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry! I'm cute and I like pink and I also like glitter! So, if I had to sleep in your vampire-like crib, the least I could do was to spice it up with my own fluffy pillows." Garcia finally admitted that the glitter was her fault. As if Emily wasn't sure of it.

Finally, Emily got control over the fight and was now on top of Garcia, who was facing the ground, with her hands against her back, as if Emily was about to make an arrest.

Garcia laughed, thinking it took Emily quite a while to overpower her. And then it struck her.

"You let me lead, huh?" She asked shyly.

"The victory would be even sweeter if you thought you stood a chance, BabyGirl!" Emily said with a smirk, imitating the way Morgan usually spoke to Garcia.

"Oh, I've missed him." Garcia squealed, trying to get away from underneath Emily. For a tiny woman, she was heavier than expected.

"Me too." Emily sighed, sitting on top of Garcia. She had done that so many times, after an arrest, that it felt natural to her.

"Sausage about to burst!" Garcia warned, feeling like she was now unable to breathe.

Emily moved to the side, now sitting on the grass.

"Thank you." Emily said silently and Garcia knew it was referred to the fact that she had contacted Morgan.

"Why did I not get assigned a new task until tomorrow?" She changed topic.

"Because…" Emily pointed at herself, now soaking wet, with grass sticking from the pockets of her smart suit and wet mud covering most of her left leg.

"I needed this." She added. "And you, Penelope Garcia, are the only person who can give me this."

Penelope smiled, assuming that by _this_ Emily also meant those silly giggles, the rolling on the ground, that cute smile that was now on her lips. It made her feel good to know that she had, in turn, made Emily feel good.

Emily then grabbed her phone, to check what time it was, but one of her new notifications caught her attention.

"Jessica Meyers? Wow, I haven't heard from her in a while. She's one of the good ones around here." She commented, opening her text message.

_"__Hi, Emily. Haven't talked to you in a while. Won't ask how you are, because I already know. I'm ashamed to say that I was part of the reason why you feel this way. I let them pressure me into breaking off a stick, when I should have really bit that KitKat sideways, as I always do."_

Emily stopped reading for a second. Was that woman drunk? Why would she talk about a KitKat?

_"__I need to warn you about tomorrow. She's coming after you, hard. And I don't think you have anything to hide, because I've learned so much from you, but the one thing you really taught me was integrity! And I refuse to believe you have lost it, along the way. I see the way your Unit looks at you and I know you are a woman to own up to her mistakes, not bury them. So I'm sure you have nothing to hide."_

Emily sighed. That was only partially true.

_"__But they've messed with your offices. Be careful what you say around there, the whole place is wired. She's waiting for you to admit defeat, so she can use it tomorrow morning. She also planted a gun in one of your colleague's offices. And she's going to bring up something from your past, in order to take you down. That's all I know. I hope it helps you in any way. And just know that I can't believe I let her bribe me into participating, even though all I ever did was nod when asked if I think you are hiding something. I am no longer part of her crew and, if you'll have me, I'll be there tomorrow morning, standing beside you! Like the pieces of KitKat."_

Was that woman insane? What was up with all those KitKat references?

"Garcia, read this!" Emily handed her the phone after she finished reading it herself.

"You were right! They have nothing on us. They are just waiting for us to screw up!" Garcia smirked. "Woman, you are a genius and I love you!" She added, once again throwing herself against Emily, but this time for a happy hug.

And Emily had always loved Garcia's hugs.

"Well, this is good news. She doesn't have anything on us _now_, but she is bringing up my past and, oh, that can get pretty ugly…" Emily shrugged. She had done quite a few questionable things, back in the days.

"Don't worry. You will have amazing support, we will be standing right beside you – like KitKat pieces!" Garcia had appreciated the metaphor and was now going to incorporate it into her dictionary.

"Not you too!" Emily laughed, finally understanding what the metaphor meant.


	49. I Hope You Crash And Burn Tomorrow

** CHAPTER 49**

_**I HOPE YOU CRASH AND BURN TOMORROW**_

When the time for the Thursday afternoon class came, Angie was excited to see Doctor Reid again. She had loved his class, almost as much as she had loved Rossi's class that morning.

"Hi!" She waved at him as he walked in the auditorium on his own.

Dan was outside, busy recruiting people for his little mind-game.

Reid smiled and waved back at her awkwardly.

Front row, middle seat – this had been the only place that he had ever sat, every class and every presentation he had ever gone to. He was also _always_ the youngest person in class, which was one more reason why he felt some weird connection to this Angela girl.

Seeing her face, full of enthusiasm and desire to hear his every word, made him act a little more sure of himself during this class.

"Hello again, everyone." He greeted.

"Hi, Mr. Reid." Someone greeted him back audibly.

"It's _Doctor_ Reid!" He said, suddenly feeling a little less shy and a little more confident.

Angela smirked. She loved it when people stood up for themselves.

"Someone requested a class on geographical offender profiling, or shortly just geoprofiling; so this is what we are doing today." He introduced the topic of his lecture.

"Now, geoprofiling is a criminal investigative methodology that analyzes the locations of a connected series of crimes to determine the most probable area of offender residence. And this is important, because…" He then kept on talking and talking.

Bryan found himself quite interested in the topic and Angie noticed that.

"Hey, who knows, we may end up fighting for the same Unit spot after the Academy!" Bryan teased her, halfway through the class. He was beyond mesmerized with how profiling worked, he had also loved Rossi's class that morning. It had been a good day for them at the Academy.

"You will never win against me!" She said confidently.

Bryan was just starting to get involved with this stuff, while Angie had spent years reading about it.

"Plus, you don't even know what Unit I'm applying for." She added.

"Like it isn't more than obvious!" He laughed.

She looked at him unhappily. She hated it when people could read her.

"You look like that emoticon, with the two red hearts as eyes, each time one of them is around." He pointed towards Reid and he also meant it about Rossi, too.

"I also like DNA analysis class. And Ballistics." She pointed out.

"Yeah, you do, but I know when those double hearts come up." He nudged her playfully and she kept on frowning.

"Come on. It's actually cool that you know what you want to do. It's only the third week of the Academy!" He pointed out, knowing very well that most of the Trainees had to yet figure out what they liked and what they were good at, before applying for their end of Academy internship positions.

If only he knew…

During the class, Reid did not use any PowerPoint presentations or visual images. He used his mouth, his speech and his ability to paint a picture with his words. And, weirdly, it had kept everyone's attention on him, the whole entire time. This class had gone much smoother than the one on Quantum Physics. Who knew why?

"Thank you for your attention, once again. Or, _finally_." Reid corrected himself, realizing they had only paid attention to him during this class, not the previous one.

"I hope you learned something new and, honestly, I hope to be seeing you again in the future." He said, meaning in class.

Angie, however, wanted to see him in a very different light and circumstances.

"Doctor Reid?" She called out for him as he was taking his microphone off and getting ready to leave.

"Thank you so much for this class. I learned a lot and I appreciated the examples you gave, from your own experience. It must be so exciting to be working for the BAU." She smiled politely.

"Ha, well, not lately, no, it isn't." He replied honestly.

With all the mess and the upcoming hearing, he wasn't sure if the BAU was a sane place for someone to be at.

"Well, I hope things get better for you, guys. You're good people and you only deserve good things happening to you. Karma is going to take care of the rest." Angie smirked, she loved being vague.

"Thank you. This is really nice of you to say." He said before correcting himself. "_You_ are a nice person, actually."

"Pff, tell that to everyone I've ever screwed over. Or the ones I _will_, anyway." She said silently and she walked away.

* * *

As if Garcia knew Morgan better than Morgan knew himself, she had figured out exactly what he was about to do that afternoon.

He got dropped off by a taxi, in front of Emily's building. He then went upstairs and took a shower before gathering a few things and going to meet someone, whom he had plans with, for that evening. Because Derek Morgan, married or not, would not turn down a chance to get it down on a Thursday night. And tonight, he'd be getting it on with multiple people, all of whom he loved so dearly. Although, he wouldn't be 'getting it on' in the informal, naughty sense. And yet, it would be giving him almost as much satisfaction.

* * *

Emily spent quite the long moment, staring at the horizon. Garcia and her were now sitting on a bench, facing the little sunshine that was poking through the clouds, in hopes of drying up all that dirt from their clothes.

She scoffed, in a way that suggested to Garcia that Emily now had a new plan.

"Tell me everything, girlfriend!" Garcia said curiously.

"Well, if she's listening in for some scoop…then let's go give her a show." She did not need say anything more, Garcia was _Game_ already!

After a quick briefing, Emily finally went back to the BAU bullpen. On her way to her office, Garcia followed her with her loud yapping.

"Emily! Wait!" Garcia's heels clinked against the pavement, in desperate attempts to catch up with her boss.

"I'm just worried about you, okay?" She said in her dramatic voice.

"Garcia, drop it!" Emily came off cold. Rude. Un-Emily-like.

"Look, I know you're using again. Stop pretending like it isn't happening. I can see it in your eyes, Emily..." Garcia was getting good at this. Her voice was a bit shaky and Emily could tell she was about to cry. Even though Garcia hated the fact that she was never able to cry on command, like JJ could.

"I said - drop it!" Emily shouted at her.

"Your pupils are red and you're constantly looking away from people when you speak to them. Come on. I'm not a profiler, but I know you, Emily Prentiss. And you're not a junkie!" Garcia's chin quivered. "Well, not anymore. I mean, I hope."

"You are going to be damn sorry if you don't zip that big mouth of yours right this second." Emily was about to burst and let her anger out.

"It took you so long to get clean the last time. We know that's why you left the Bureau, when you faked your death. We covered for you. We lied for you. Come on. You were doing so well!" Garcia pushed hard, but being a happy and bubbly person she couldn't find it in her to cry.

"Not another word, Garcia!" Emily hissed at her, raising her voice like she never had with that beautiful colorful creature in front of her.

"Emily, I refuse to sit around and keep quiet while I watch drugs destroy your life all over again!" Garcia yelled back.

"I am your fucking boss!" Emily then realized how loud and scary her voice could be. It sent shivers down her own spine.

And then a loud slap could be heard. Hard. Merciless. No doubt one that would leave a nasty bruise.

"How dare you hit me, you crazy bitch!?" Garcia finally let it all out. Tears started rolling down her cheeks.

"Is this what I deserve for being a good friend? Physical abuse, after the verbal and psychological one?" Garcia yelled, now more than pissed off.

A chair flew across the bullpen and ended up in three pieces, on the floor.

"Are you out of your mind?" Garcia cried. "Ouch God, aaah my leg!" She held onto her leg and sobbed uncontrollably.

"If drugs don't fuck you up real good this time, then I hope you crash and burn tomorrow at that hearing, you crazy bitch! And you better believe I'll be there to watch it, but I sure as Hell am not standing by your side, you Devil! And if asked, I will tell them everything I _really_ think about you, no holding my tongue back anymore!" Garcia was yelling like a crazy person, afraid at just how pissed off she could be. All she ever knew were her two extremes - calm and excited. This was all new to her now.

With those words, she stormed out of the bullpen and out of the building.

Emily destroyed a huge plant that was sitting awkwardly in the corner and nobody really ever cared enough to water it. Stupid plant. Useless plant. Plant that ended up on top of her colleague's desks, as she crashed it hard, along with the pot it came in. Pieces of blue ceramic flew in the air, reaching even the furthest corner of the bullpen. Emily could almost see all of it in slow motion – it was so extremely dramatic, like a scene from a corny movie about a bad break up. The only thing missing was a sad 90's r'n'b song and this scene could get her an Oscar.

* * *

"Here's my favorite BabyGirl!" Morgan opened the door for Garcia.

He was now in Rossi's house, making plans for Friday night and catching up with his incredibly funny and outgoing third wife. Or second wife, turned fourth? Morgan had lost the count along the way.

"I better be your _only_ BabyGirl, hey!" Garcia said cheekily, giving him a really big hug.

She felt his hands instantly hold her close and she sunk into his hug.

"I've missed you so much!" She whispered and one of his hands massaged the back of her head lightly.

"I'm not even mad at you for messing with my hair right now!" She added and it made him smile.

"Woman, you have no idea how much I have missed you." He sighed deeply. "All of you." He then added sincerely.

Krystal urged them to come in and help her with some preparations.

"So, what's the plan?" She asked her two guests.

"Well, if everything goes up in flames tomorrow, at least we wanted to have one more night, as the BAU, all together." Garcia replied.

"That includes you, too, my Hunky Imaginary Boyfriend!" She added, looking at Morgan.

"Yeah, since we can't really do anything about tomorrow…" Morgan said to Krystal, feeling too much out of the loop.

"Oh, about that…" Garcia smirked proudly. "Just leave it to Emily to fix things. Trust me. I mean, trust _her_. Because I sure as Hell do!"

"Uh-oh!" Morgan sensed a conspiracy going on. "A pissed off, vulnerable Emily Prentiss counter takedown? Yes, please!"

He didn't even want to ask for details. He already trusted that the Emily Prentiss that he knew, would come out to play the next morning.

The three of them busied themselves with preparations. Morgan went on a last-minute grocery run while the two women heated up the oven and worked their magic in the kitchen. It was late afternoon and everyone was about to be free and popping by within an hour or so.

* * *

Angie did some more recruiting for the prank and she now had about thirty people, willing to participate. She also had exactly thirty costumes, thanks to Amazon Prime…and Bryan's bank account details.

After dinner, everyone gathered up to get their costumes and she gave them further instructions on what they were going to do. It all sounded hilarious, harmless, childish even. Surely it didn't sound like it could do any harm.

"I like your choice of costume." Bryan commented when he got handed his own piece of clothing.

"What can I say – I got inspired recently!" She said innocently, holdings on to her costume tightly.

They both decided to go to bed early. Friday would be busy for them. They had PFT and then their class would be starting at 12, not 10 as usual, as their teacher had a last-minute change of schedule and had to push the timing. And this worked perfectly with Angie's innocent little plan.

Innocent…not so much.


	50. We Stand Right Behind Her, Always!

**CHAPTER 50**

_**WE STAND RIGHT BEHIND HER, ALWAYS!**_

Angie didn't need an alarm clock to wake her up on Friday. Her eyes popped open at 5 am and she was ready for the day.

Making sure she wouldn't wake Bryan up, she snuck out of bed and put her active wear on before she went for a quick relaxing morning run.

It was really cold that morning, temperatures were dropping at night, but she didn't feel a thing. If something – she felt hot, like a fire was burning inside of her. She also felt refreshed. She felt like she was in control, like she could breathe, like she could do anything she set her mind on.

At 6 am she rolled up to the main building, pressing the 4th floor button on the elevator.

"Who the Hell are you?" Fowler asked angrily once Angie walked past her office, putting on a white apron.

"Hola. Mi nombre es Anjela." She said in Spanish before she continued speaking broken English, in thick Latina accent. "I here for clean office today. Okay?"

She had figured Fowler would be in the office from twilight, if she hadn't even slept there, planning her revenge. When Angie saw her, the woman had her headphones on and was listening intently to some recording, making notes.

"Oh, cleaning staff. Finally!" Fowler waved her hand dismissively, as if Angela was no longer a human being to her.

Angie figured out where to get some cleaning products and she started to wipe dust while her eyes snooped around mercilessly, as she waited for the right moment to make her move.

She spilled some water on the floor, but the only reaction she got from the woman was verbal abuse. And that was not enough.

Then she moved to her desk, casually knocking her coffee over. Fowler stood up, screaming like a jungle woman, her pants now soaked in the hot beverage. Angela got called very colorful names, most of which were culturally offensive for the whole Latino population. But that wasn't enough.

She groaned when Fowler left the office and went to the bathroom to clean herself up. And then she had a different idea. Clearly Angie was going all wrong about it so far. Fowler couldn't be pushed over the edge by a clumsy cleaner.

Angie thought for a second. What could be the reason why Fowler hated Emily Prentiss so much? She remembered the fact that her husband had, clearly, left her. She also remembered the lack of emotional attachment on Fowler's side and how she had only kept his jewelry and expensive things. Yet, she could tell that him leaving was what had ticked this woman off.

Coming to that conclusion, Angie now had about two minutes left to create the perfect profile of this woman, in her head, then come up with a new game plan and give it a go.

While her brain was at work, so were her fingers. She stuck a USB drive in Fowler's computer and transferred something. It was Fowler's own fault that she had left her computer unattended, probably thinking this Latina girl had no idea how to even work the keyboard. And yet, Angie had a few tricks up her sleeve. Through the years, she had met some very smart people who had taught her some very cool cyber tricks. She wasn't a genius, but she was a quick learner. Technology was not her forte. Manipulation was. Mind games, being her specialty.

When she also came up with a profile on Fowler, it allowed her to answer the most important question she currently had – What could tick this woman off?

Despite the yelling, she clearly didn't care about Angela, the cleaner, enough to allow herself to get really mad, at the workplace. But what would she do if she had to deal with Angela, the thief?

Her profile pointed to a very possessive and vindictive woman, one who wouldn't be able to resist the temptation when she felt like something was being taken from her. One who would potentially lose it completely, if she wasn't in charge, if she wasn't the owner of what she believed lawfully belonged to her.

"God, I'm good at this." Angela muttered to herself, because if nobody was there to give her a pat on the shoulder, she'd do that herself.

When the woman walked back in her office, she found Angie on her knees, on the other side of her desk, searching through her handbag and sneaking a 50 dollar bill into her sports bra, underneath the white apron, right before she got caught.

"You, stupid immigrant!" As predicted, the woman was ticked off.

"Why don't you go back to your own country and steal money there, huh? You think you are all entitled to come to _our_ America and steal our things, huh? You dumb little bitch! You can barely speak our language. You suck at your job. You, useless human creature. God, I hate you and all of your damned look-alikes!" The woman started off, verbally, as before.

But then Angie looked at her, very innocently, her eyes threatening to burst in tears.

"Please, my husband no work. I need money. Not tell no people, please." Angie said, still using her Latina accent.

"And my husband no home. Comprendes!?" The woman then exploded. She took a few steps towards Angie, grabbing her by the apron and forcing her to stand up.

"But I don't go stealing people's husbands!" She added and Angie gathered all of her strength and discipline, just to stay calm and not give her all the crap that she deserved to hear, when it came to stealing things from people.

"Give me my money back!" The woman put her hand out, but Angie faked dumb so well.

She closed her apron, placing her hands in front of her chest.

"My money! Now!" The woman yelled.

"I no have it." Angie shrugged innocently.

"I saw you put them in your bra, you stupid little idiot!" The woman started tugging on the apron and Angie pulled back as far as she could.

In attempts to get away from her, she tackled over the desk chair, making herself fall flat on her ass, backwards, causing the chair to roll sideways, making quite the loud scene. Angie had noticed the elevator doors open just seconds before that, so she now needed her witnesses. She stood up quickly and kept walking backwards until her back hit the wall behind her.

The woman smirked, happy that she finally got Angie backed up against the wall. Literally. She walked over to her, kicking the fallen chair out of her way, before she grabbed Angie's apron and tore it open, letting it fall down her shoulders while she reached for the money that were now visibly sticking out of the side of her sports bra strap.

"No. No. No! Please! Don't!" Angie went in full on panic mode, confusing the woman with that sudden outburst.

And then tears flooded her cheeks. Angela Hunter never cried, but it was okay when the tears were fake, when they served her for the greater good. She deserved an Oscar herself.

"Please! It hurts. Let me go!" Angie whimpered, this time with her normal accent, but the woman did not even catch that change.

She hit Angie across the face, so hard that she could feel it resonate, seconds after the hit even occurred.

"This is what pathetic immigrant bitches who rob people deserve!" Fowler hissed at Angie.

Angie stood there, holding her cheek, feeling her side lip cut in two, tasting the fresh blood that was now forming into a drop, ready to fall on her clothes.

She stood immobile for a long moment, as if she was waiting for something. And then, without another word, she just left.

* * *

"My God, what happened to your lip?" Bryan commented when he saw Angie fifteen minutes later, in PFT.

"Had a little accident after my morning run." She shrugged, ignoring the fact that her lip was now swollen, bruised and purple.

It didn't prevent her from training, though. If anything – it made her even more determined. That morning, Angela pushed hard and whenever she felt like her body wasn't strong enough to continue with an exercise, she pushed even harder, pushing her limits and reaching new highs in her training. The guy who was supervising them noticed all that, he had seen her improve day after day and she was one of the few motivated people in the early morning. However, as instructed by Dan, he did not give her any praise. He did not say anything mean either.

A few of the Trainees, however, kept on torturing her, calling her '_Purple'_ all through the training.

When class was over, she made it a point to go over to the group of bullies and give them a piece of her mind.

"For your information, purple is a beautiful color that looks banging hot on me! Also, purple combines the calm stability of blue and the fierce energy of red. The color purple is often associated with royalty, nobility, luxury, power, and ambition. Purple also represents meanings of wealth, extravagance, creativity, wisdom, dignity, grandeur, devotion, peace, pride, mystery, independence and magic. So, yeah, I just want to thank you all for acknowledging how damn special I am and for giving me that beautiful nickname! Now, have a good day, guys!" She just poured it all out and walked away after blowing them all an air kiss.

Dan was just coming to the training field, to let them know that, if they wanted to, they could keep training under his supervision, since they now had two hours until their 12 am theory class.

Nearly 80% of the Trainees expressed desire to go have breakfast instead.

She looked at the time and it was currently 9:49. It was almost show time. She waved at a few of the guys who would be participating in the prank, as they chose to skip on the extra training, so they could go back to the dorms and grab their prank costumes.

Angie stayed and ignored the feeling of sweat against her busted lip, as it gave her a very unpleasant pinching feeling of discomfort.

She went to the pull-up station with Bryan, asking him to supervise her technique and then taking in all of the criticism he had for her.

Dan walked over to a group of guys who were doing an abs workout and he just sat there, watching them remind him of the days when he had been young and in the Academy.

Time flied and some Trainees left to go shower before class, but Angie and a group of seven other people stayed.

* * *

The clock hit 10 o'clock sharp and the doors of a huge hall opened, letting a whole bunch of people in.

The first ones to enter were the stern looking ones, those who sat behind the main desk, now facing the empty chairs in front of them.

Then, Fowler and a bunch of people she had blackmailed, walked in, sitting on the left side of what seemed to look like a court room, with how the chairs and tables were arranged.

Emily walked in next. She entered on her own, walking all the way to the front and taking the hot seat, the one for the accused, if it were a court.

After that, the whole BAU walked in. But, instead of taking the empty seats near Emily's - seats that have been assigned to her team, they opted for standing on their feet, all the way at the back of the hall – as far away from Emily as possible.

Garcia walked in limping and Fowler was quick to notice that, along with the fact that she was sporting a huge scarf around her neck and that, basically half of her face was now covered by a very extravagant hairstyle. Was that a cover up for the bruise Emily had left her with, just a day ago?

Emily gulped, feeling too much free space around her. It was weird, especially since Fowler was now surrounded by people, some of whom surprised Emily. She would have never guessed that some of them had taken part in her takedown and it actually kind of hurt to see that now.

Unit Chief Jessica Meyers was not among them. That made Emily feel a tiny bit better.

"Silence, please!" The man who was going to overview this hearing, spoke up on the microphone.

He read from a piece of paper, letting everyone know why they were being gathered there. Section Chief Fowler had requested a thorough investigation on the BAU team and immediate suspension for everyone, had something been discovered, following that investigation.

Emily looked really ill-at-ease, surrounded by emptiness, which is how she almost felt on the inside, too.

She dared utter no word.

"An investigation has been conducted, including unsealing old case files of the BAU and reviewing their work ethic, tactics and methods used during their cases. Moreover, a complete search of the BAU offices has been conducted, too. And we have also consulted the psychologist that follows the team on a professional level." The man in charge let everyone know.

"All of those resulted in absolutely no sign of foul play and indecent behavior at work, which is what the Section Chief had suggested as the reasoning behind her request for investigation." The man seemed upset that he had been asked to waste his time, basically.

"This cannot be true!" Fowler protested. "What about her drug issues?" She pointed at Emily, who was quietly sitting in her seat, now looking a little less stressed for some odd reason.

"Drug issues were never mentioned to us, so we did not investigate on that. However, no illegal substances were found in or around the BAU offices." The main in charge replied.

"Well, if they are so innocent, I'm sure she wouldn't mind a quick alcohol and drugs test. Right here, right now." Fowler stood up, holding a drug test kit in her hand. Oh, she had planned this quite well.

"SSA Prentiss, do you authorize?" The man asked.

"I have absolutely nothing to hide, Sir!" Emily said, with her chin held high, as she stood up and walked to the middle of the grounds, between her desk and Fowler's.

"Also, I believe it would only be fair to test everyone, not just me." Emily added, pointing at the back of the room.

Five minutes later an Agent came back with just enough instant drug tests for everyone on team BAU.

Everyone took it willingly, also because they were required to, even if they did not want to.

There was a weird silence, both from Emily's side and also from every member of her team.

"I believe SSA Prentiss mentioned _everyone_…" The man said with a smirk, looking directly at Fowler.

His assistant stood up and, despite Fowler's refusal, he still did an alcohol and drugs test on her. As a government operative, one was forced to take such tests, whenever asked to do so. No objections.

The tests had to now be left for five minutes, until the results would show up.

Emily sat back down on her chair, crossing her legs properly, like a lady, and having absolutely no sign of worry on her face.

"Alright, we have the results." The man's assistant finally spoke up.

"And we have zero drugs and zero alcohol result, for every single member of the BAU." He stated, reading the screens of the tests.

"What? But that's impossible! The crazy one said Emily had been on drugs again recently. She has some problem with drugs, she failed to inform the Bureau of it years ago when she left for a trip to rehab before she joined back, pretending to be alright." Fowler couldn't help herself.

"Do you have any actual evidence to back that accusation up with, Mrs. Fowler?" The man in charge asked, narrowing his eyes on Fowler.

"Yes, I heard them with my own ears. The weird looking one was yelling at SSA Prentiss yesterday afternoon. Then Prentiss got mad and she hit her employee and then she threw something at her and hurt her leg, as well."

"But, I was right next to you yesterday, from lunch until 8pm when we both got in our cars to go home after work." Someone from Fowler's posse dared to speak up, disproving the validity of her words.

"I listened to it this morning, you idiot!" Fowler said rudely.

"Wait!" The authority man put his hand up in the air. "You heard it today, but it happened yesterday?"

"Yes, that's right. I have the recording to prove it!" Fowler was oblivious to the harm she had just done to herself.

"Mrs. Fowler, you do realize it is absolutely illegal to record anything, inside the government building? Let alone if it happened inside of someone else's office. And even if you could register, you could not use the audio against the people who own the office. It's just not how things work around here." The man rolled his eyes, now visibly pissed off.

"But, it was physical abuse on an employee! Was I supposed to turn a blind eye?" Fowler tried to get out of it, once she realized how dumb she had been.

"First of all, you _cannot_ record them. What happens in their office is _their_ business only. If there are grounds for filing a physical abuse claim, everyone is old enough to come to us and file it themselves. And secondly, would you, please, stop insulting people?" The man had never liked Fowler.

The only reason why this woman had made it to Section Chief was because she had more years of experience than her competitor for the place. Also, because her competitor suddenly pulled out, which now seemed like it might have been arranged by her and her scheming ways. And then there was the fact that the Bureau had to choose someone, _anyone_, in under 24 hours, so the time pressure really gave them no time to go over each candidate's files and psychological evaluations properly.

"I can't do this anymore." Someone from Fowler's posse stood up. "I don't have anything against SSA Prentiss. Neither of us here do. Fowler blackmailed us to sit here and back her up, but this is bullshit. Like you said, Sir, we are all old enough to stand up for what we believe in. And I believe that this whole claim that the BAU is in the wrong, is completely bogus."

That person switched sides, literally, walking over to Emily's side of the room, sitting on a chair right behind the first row, where Emily was now in the middle of, alone.

He was then followed by a woman, who stood near Emily before she spoke up. "I don't believe it for a second that this woman here is capable of mistreating her employees like that. If anything, they are one of the Units with the strongest bond here. And you…" She pointed at Fowler then. "How dare you speak of physical abuse after what you did to that poor girl this morning?"

"Do I even want to know what happened this morning?" The judge-looking man raised an eyebrow curiously.

"I walked out of the elevator at 6:07 this morning and found her hitting some girl who was there to clean our office, since none of our cleaning staff could stand her constant verbal abuse and threats and they all left us last week!" The woman explained.

"Oh, and can someone corroborate this statement?" The man was starting to enjoy this.

"Yes, Sir. I walked out of the elevator with my colleague when it happened. However, I did not make any recording of the scene, for the legal and ethical reasons you stated just a minute ago, Sir." A younger guy stood up and also walked over to Emily's side of the room.

"This is ridiculous! Are you going to believe what some dumb illegal immigrant says, over the words of your Section Chief?" Fowler was so beyond pissed off that her revenge against Emily was now turning against _her_, that she stopped thinking about the words she was using.

"I have kindly asked you to stop insulting people!" The judge hissed at her.

"Although, I suppose this must be the drugs and alcohol talking…" He added, holding Fowler's test results in one hand.

His assistant had only said that the whole BAU team was clean, but it was now the judge to break the news that Fowler had tested positive on both.

"Mrs. Fowler, I shall be asking you to do a full toxicology exam for us, right after this meeting. However, something is telling me that might not be necessary…" He kept on speaking. He surely had something in mind, but he needed more proof and more reasons to declare it officially.

"Do you have any way of contacting that girl?" He then asked the female Agent who had told him about the abuse.

On the one hand, he had Fowler and her alleged abuse reporting, with no evidence other than an illegally obtained audio after unethical surveillance of the BAU offices, and nobody to corroborate her statements.

On the other hand, he had various people, from different Units, who were now slowly ganging up on their gang leader. Truth was coming out and truth was where evidence and eye witnesses were.

"Yes, Sir. She must have dropped her badge when she fell on the floor." The woman walked to the man and handed him a piece of plastic.

"FBI Academy, Trainee Angela Hunter…" The man read out loud, suppressing a chuckle. Oh, this was going to be good and he knew it.

"I know her, she's really nice!" Reid whispered to Rossi.

"Yeah, apparently really smart, too." Rossi replied shortly.

Emily's face was blank. No particular expression sat on it. Everything she thought and felt about what was happening during this hearing, was burning up inside of her. But she wouldn't let anyone read her thoughts on her face. She was too good at this, after years as a Spy.

* * *

A phone call was placed to the Academy Mentor immediately and he received an odd request.

"Hunter?" Dan called out, watching Angie now stretching after the extra pull ups work out she had done.

"Yes, Sir!" She said innocently, walking over to where he was sitting.

"I don't even want to ask why, but you and I now have to go to a hearing." He rolled his eyes, taking a few steps towards the main building.

Angie did a little happy dance behind his shoulders. This was about to be one Hell of a masterplan.

She checked the time and it was now 10:16. She sighed with relief, remembering how she had changed the timing of the prank. Initially she had told the guys 10 am sharp, but then she had figured it would be better served and received it if happened in mid-process.

When Dan walked in the hall, with a very sweaty Angela by his side, the judge asked to see both Angela and Garcia in front of him.

"God, I love your shoes!" Angie whispered to Garcia, who was now standing by her side nervously.

"Oh, thank you, beautiful young girl." Garcia said politely.

Anyone who complimented Garcia's shoes or accessories was automatically on her Nice List.

The man cringed when he saw Angie's lip. He asked her to come closer and to show him better, but she refused. He could tell that this young Trainee was pooping in her pants to be there, in front of everyone.

Dan held Angie's hand and accompanied her two steps forward. She leaned over the main desk, where the important people were, and since she didn't touch her mouth, to show exactly how deep the cut was, Dan did it for her. With his pointy finger he carefully let her lips part, allowing the main bunch to see the cut that still had fresh blood on it, and also giving them a good look of the purple color of her lips on the outside, too.

Angie winced from the pain this was causing her. It was uncomfortable and she was clearly not happy about that little display. Or at least that was what her facial expressions communicated.

"Is this the girl from this morning?" The judge asked the woman who had made the accusation claim against Fowler.

"Yes, Sir. I'm positive it was her. She had the same workout bra underneath her cleaning apron, too. There is no doubt she's the same person." The woman replied, once again fully backed up by her male colleague's testimony.

The man then asked Garcia to get closer and to get rid of the scarf and to push her hair back away from her face. She did as instructed and her face was as soft and smooth as a newborn. No bruising, no swelling, no cuts.

"Is this the person you so eagerly insulted earlier, Mrs. Fowler?" He asked, still not over the fact that Fowler had the nerve to talk about people in such a mean and diminishing way.

She nodded.

"Miss Garcia, could you, please, make a lap around the hall?" The man asked and Garcia gasped.

"But, but…Sir, I don't like physical activity. I like Unicorns and tea and I also really love the color pink, too." She started mumbling, but stopped as soon as she saw the stern look the man was giving her. "Oh, right. You weren't _asking_. Okay. Uhm, let me just take my shoes off first…" She sat on an empty chair, taking those high heels off and feeling the liberty of stepping on the floor, barefoot.

"Do you have any idea how many germs-…" Reid started to whisper to JJ, who was standing next to him, but she shushed him quickly.

Garcia then sighed dramatically before she started running around the hall. Why would she be the one getting punished? Wasn't she being painted as the victim?

"Two things, Miss Garcia." The judge said in conclusion, after the lap was done. "One, you need to work on your physical strength, as an Agent." He made her chuckle. She knew she was slacking in the fitness field. She was now short of breath, her face was red and she looked like she wanted to cry. Maybe this would give her the inspiration to go work out, one day.

"And two, you most definitely don't look like someone who had been slapped and, I quote: 'hit hard with something'. Your legs look just fine to me, no limp, no pain. So I'm going to have to call you out on that false report, Mrs. Fowler, and I'm going to ask you, Miss Garcia, to go join your team now."

"Can someone explain all of this to me? Is this a joke?" He asked, looking around and feeling like he was having a weird dream.

His assistant stood there, next to him, as usual, silent and with his eyes fixated on Angie, who, in turn, looked like a very scared, very doll-like innocent young girl. Her face showed no other emotion, it was constant, blank, other than the fear her eyes were oozing. She'd gulp sometimes, probably from feeling uncomfortable in a room, full of Agents and Superiors. She looked like a kid who had been sent to the principal's office and now held hostage there, which was exactly what was happening to her.

"It's not a joke, Sir." Jessica Meyers stood up once again. "I will personally testify against that woman. I'm happy to tell you exactly how she bribed me into signing that petition for the investigation of the BAU. Also, the two Agents who witnessed her physical abuse on that poor kid, are two of my best and brightest Agents, people whom I have never had problems with and who, unlike others, work with the FBI's unofficial motto, tattooed in their hearts and dictating their every move…" She took a deep breath before continuing, but then got surprised at how everyone in the hall chanted along with that motto.

"Fidelity! Bravery! Integrity!" People said, along with Jessica Meyers.

Emily Prentiss, too, joined in, pronouncing those words proudly. And so did every single member of her team.

"Trainee Hunter, would you like to make an accusation claim against Section Chief Fowler?" The man asked Angela formally.

"Section Chief!?" She repeated with a loud gasp of surprise, as if she was _just_ realizing the importance this woman had in the Bureau.

"Not for much longer, if we can do anything about it!" Jessica commented from the sidelines.

"I need your answer, Trainee Hunter." The man urged her.

"Uhm, I don't want any trouble. Like, I'm just a nobody here. I'm only a Trainee, it's like, my third week of Academy. I don't care about complaints if that might get me expelled from the training program, Sir! I've worked too hard, I can't…no, I can't ruin my chances at getting what I want in life!" Angie was an innocent little angel. Her face, full of fear, her lips quivering and also – very purple and swollen.

"I can assure you that your help in bringing justice back, would in no way be preventing you from having a normal experience in the Academy." The judge said calmly.

"Ah, well then yeah. I want to make a complaint." She felt empowered by his promise and it was obvious to everyone that the only thing stopping her from speaking up seconds ago had been her fear of this woman's superiority. The same thing could be said about the rest of Fowler's posse, all of whom had by now abandoned her side.

Emily did not feel so alone after all, even if nobody was sitting on those chairs around her. People were on her side of the room, though.

"Hey, what the Hell is going on!?" Fowler acted nervously. She inserted her USB drive in the computer that was placed there, in case someone had to make a presentation.

"Mrs. Fowler, please be quiet." The judge's assistant pleaded.

"No! And how come you didn't find anything? There was a gun. An illegal gun. You should test it and see what those freaks have used it for. It was just laying around in their office, that blonde one over there, Prentiss' side-kick bitch." Fowler pointed at JJ in the back of the hall, as she spat out more incriminating information.

"And how would you know there was a used gun in SSA Jareau's office? Did you break in there and see it or did you install surveillance cameras, too, other than the microphones you put all around their floor?" The judge raised an eyebrow.

"Or better yet – did you pant the damn gun yourself, huh?" Ben suggested, being the only one who was at liberty to interrupt the jude and to speak whenever he wanted. He was, after all, his right hand at the Bureau.

Emily shot Ben a glance of approval. Her Poker Face wouldn't show it, but he knew what she was thinking, the second he laid eyes on her.

It was like everyone was fighting for Prentiss and she really did not need to even speak. It was wonderful – a complete mess, chaos and disorder in their improvised Bureau-like courtroom.

Emily was absolutely chill and relaxed, looking like someone who did not give a damn about false allegations, like someone who had nothing to hide. They wanted to bring her down? Alright, they could speak up. But 'they' quickly turned into just 'her', Fowler, after everyone abandoned her and took Emily's side instead.

Emily did not have to speak. The night before, with her team, at Rossi's place, she had a very nice dinner, accompanied by a long conversation, during which her colleagues forced her to realize how awesome and worthy she was. That, plus the fact that Morgan had forcefully held Emily still while Garcia, Reid and JJ had threatened to tickle her into a coma, if she didn't admit that she knew how awesome and deserving she was. Loved. Powerful. A kick ass woman.

As far as Garcia was concerned, she had always called Emily 'Wonder Woman'. That was exactly how she saw her and her smooth, catlike movements. She was a Superhero and Garcia would not have it any other way.

And Superheroes do not always fight with their hands, like they do not always fight with their words.

No, the team knew that Emily Prentiss did not need to fight this war with words. She did not need to fight at all. She had already won, years ago, by joining the Bureau and by working her ass off to be the amazing Unit Chief that she was, the amazing human being to everyone, on her team or outside of it.

Emily Prentiss had won, by having made people _like_ her, through the years. Trust her. She had won by telling a lot of those people that were now in the court room, that they were amazing at their job, in times when they had doubted themselves. She had been there for many of them, even on a personal level.

She had sent sweet treats to Jessica Meyers when she had been announced Unit Chief. Emily had been more than genuinely ecstatic to have another female on the top step of the Bureau ladder, alongside her, even if they handled different Units.

She had sat in a hospital all night long, holding another Unit Chief's hand when one of his own had been shot, during a case. She had brought him coffee, she had spoken to him, with that soft voice of hers, telling him that everything would be alright. That Agent who had been shot, was now in the court room, standing behind his Unit Chief proudly, looking healthy and Emily could not be happier. He probably didn't even know the long hours Emily had stayed in the hospital for. She didn't care. She hadn't done it for recognition.

She never did _anything_ for recognition…and _that_ was why and how she had already won the Hearing – by being someone who knew the true meaning of fidelity, bravery and integrity and who did not feel the need to constantly remind people of her power. She'd rather show them, discretely.

"I have proof!" Fowler said frantically, opening the only file on the USB drive – the one she had stored all of her fake evidence, the things she planted against the BAU.

To her surprise, instead of her PowerPoint presentation, there was one single photo.

"What is that!?" The judge's eyes grew wide.

Everyone was now looking at a photo of a bunch of very suggestive, adult-themed costumes, sprawled on a floor, with a whip on top of them.

Angie looked shocked. "Eww, that is gross!" She commented, looking away, as if this was the first time she ever saw the photo.

"No, no. Not this. Oh God, not that!" Fowler tried to take the photo down, but it wouldn't move. It could not be closed, nor deleted.

The clock hit 10:30 and about thirty trainees entered the hall, thinking they were interrupting some sort of a business meeting, and only intending on making everyone laugh for a few seconds before leaving.

"What is this!?" Fowler nearly had a heart attack, seeing the gang of people.

"Take from the rich, give to the poor!" The guys, all wearing identical Robyn Hood costumes, kept repeating as they walked around the room, acting silly.

One of the boys walked over to Angie and tossed a costume at her. It was just a cape, to put over her normal clothes, so it took her two seconds to join in on the Trainee prank and to become Robyn Hood herself.

"What is going on?" Fowler was now fully panicked. Those were the exact words she had used last night, this much she remembered.

"I make good on my promises!" Angie walked closer to the woman and took advantage of the silliness around them, to plunge the last knife in.

"I promised that you would definitely be seeing me again!" She added with a content smirk, now looking a little less innocent and a whole lot more devilish.

There was something in her eyes, but if it wasn't determination, then what was it? It sure looked like she was possessed by an evil spirit, the way she eyed Fowler up and down, with those sparks in her eyes – eyes that up until seconds ago had fooled everyone about being so sweet and innocent.

Fowler's blood froze. This girl was creeping her out and it wasn't only because she was still drunk and high from the night before. There was something chilling about Angela's stare. And the damned girl would not take her eyes off of Fowler, not even for a second.

Fowler had been with the Bureau for some years and she had worked homicide for a while. She'd be damned if it were the drugs and alcohol speaking, but all she could see in Angela's eyes was a cold blooded killer. That was exactly what her stare felt like. Screw her sweet smile and her perfect pony tail. Screw the Trainee uniform. This girl was creepy as Hell and Fowler was about to pass out, just after the few seconds while they had their staring match.

She was not scared of Angela Hunter. No. She was _terrified_. And that would still be putting it lightly. She felt goosebumps all over her body and the nausea that suddenly hit her was surely not because of the alcohol.

"This is none of your business!" The woman protested, trying to regain some power and dominance, without realizing she had none for a while now.

"On the contrary - my job is to make people's lives miserable!" Angie once again threw Fowler's own words from last night, back in her face, letting her know just how busted she really was. Her eyes kept piercing Fowler with that icy cold stare. And that was when it hit her – those were the eyes she had seen behind the mask, the eyes of the girl who drugged her and her little bumper sticker loving companion, at her own party.

"It was _you_!? This is all your fault!" Fowler lost it one more time. She jumped up from her seat and tried to get a hold of Angie, no doubt intending to physically hurt her once again.

Angie pulled back, faking a scared expression on her face one more time. She could switch between emotions with ease.

"If that's what the FBI stands for…pfff, some fidelity…some integrity though!" Angie commented, her eyes stuck on the Section Chief, but her voice loud enough to get heard by the judge and everyone else on the table, next to him.

"Silence!" The judge called out, but then he had to shout it, in order to achieve it. "SILENCE!"

The Trainees calmed down a bit and stopped running around, pretending to be real life Robyn Hood action heroes, in their matching costumes and that silly line they had been repeating over and over again. They realized that this must have been a more serious meeting than what they thought they were crashing.

"Guys, this is no doubt a funny prank and yes, you can have your victory on that one. The laugh was much appreciated. But it has to stop now, okay?" The man said calmly, remembering how rude his own prank had been when he had been a Trainee, all these years ago. This was silly and harmless now, compared to what he had signed up for, so he couldn't bring himself to be rude about it.

"Please, leave now." He pointed at the door and the Trainees left.

"Trainee Hunter, you can leave now as well, if you wish." He said, turning his attention to Angie.

"No, Sir. I would actually like to stay, if that is okay with you. I am a huge advocate for justice being served, Sir. This is one of the reasons why I joined the Academy. So, may I, please, stay?" She asked politely and he could not deny her. Nobody could deny her.

"I would love to be shown what the FBI motto stands for, Sir, because so far I feel like what I have seen from this vicious woman here, does not match the Bureau standards and is not code of conduct, at least not the one I kept reading about in those pamphlets that made me chose to dedicate my life and my every waking moment to fighting for a chance at a career with the Bureau, Sir, with you…all of you, beautiful people." Angie's sweet tone of voice and her bright green eyes filled the room, as her hand gestured to everyone that was now standing on Emily's side of the hall. She was a really good compliment giver, she always knew how to make someone feel good, how to put people at ease. And right at that moment, a lot of people felt flattered by her words.

"Damn it, man, she's good!" Ben leaned over and whispered to Dan, who had now joined the 'important ones' at the main desk.

"I know how to pick them." Dan smirked, finally hearing approval from his Superior, after all the crap he had taken from him at the beginning, for having chosen Angie as the Wild Card.

"Sure, Trainee Hunter…stay…why not…" The judge rolled his eyes, referring to her previous request. This circus was not over yet. "Take _any_ empty seat you like and be quiet, so we can wrap this up before noon." He instructed her.

Angie then found herself in the middle. She was right in front of him, and between Fowler's desk and the side where Emily was sitting in the middle of a bunch of empty chairs. Her whole team had stayed silent, immobile, with their backs against the wall, the whole entire time, away from Emily.

Angie smiled politely and took the seat, on the right side of Emily's.

Emily smiled back instantly. Somehow Angela had managed to break Emily's Poker Face, even just for a second. And somehow, Emily felt a little less lonely, sitting in her hot seat, now that she could feel the warmth of another human body, sitting right next to her. Angie's bare and still sweaty after PFT hand brushed against Emily's smart suit and sent shivers down her spine.

"Those seats are for the accused…" The judge commented when he saw where Angie sat.

"Although, this brings me to the question that has been on my mind since we started – how come SSA Prentiss is sitting on her own through all of this? The whole BAU is under investigation. And yet, you couldn't seem more detached from your Unit Chief. Now, is there any truth to Fowler's claims against Emily Prentiss, as a Unit leader?" He raised his eyebrow suspiciously.

The BAU team then, as if on cue, started walking slowly, towards the front of the room. The seven of them, plus Morgan, looked like a slow motion scene from a Bad Boys movie – all dressed in black, well despite from Garcia, all strutting down slowly and calmly, with their heads held high and their chins up, a cool neutral look on their faces and a gun holstered to their side.

Once they were near Emily, still standing up, Rossi spoke.

"All due respect, Sir, but, not being a profiler yourself, I am afraid you are reading this all wrong." He started off calm and educated.

"We do not stand _by_ her side." He pointed at a very quiet Emily Prentiss, a very calm woman, sure of herself. "We stand _right behind_ her, always, backing her up 150%, with every decision she makes, whether it is on the field, in the office or in her personal life! We stand right behind her, so that we could be ready to catch her, if she even as much as gets misbalanced, Sir. Because, and I'm speaking on behalf of everyone here, this is what a Unit Chief deserves. And this is what SSA Emily Prentiss has worked so hard for, respecting that one motto – fidelity, bravery, integrity. She has not only built a team, but something so much bigger. We stand _beside_ one another - through good, through bad - because we're family. And Sir, us standing in the back of that room was merely for our own egoistic purposes. Profilers like to take a step back, so they could look at the bigger picture. We do not focus on the small details first, before we see the bigger picture clearly. And also, Sir, we saw a picture, very different than the one we were being asked to come here and discuss today."

Everyone nodded, confirming his words, before they took turns in telling the judge exactly what they thought of Emily Prentiss, no holding their tongue back, just like Garcia had promised the day before. This was exactly what she had meant – she poured her colorful heart to the court, letting a few tears roll down her cheeks while she spoke about the wonderful person that her boss was. She shared that the job was too much for her to handle, on a daily basis – all those gruesome photos and discoveries, but even though her mind needed to change the job, to do something more normal, her heart could never allow her to turn her back on the team, on all of them, but mostly on her, on Emily Prentiss – the glue to the team. Garcia confided that she had been receiving job offers from top players, but she had turned them all down, because no job would ever give her the satisfaction and the family that this job gave her. She was, after all, a Superhero as well – fighting crime and making the world a better, safer place.

After her confession, the rest of the team was emboldened and on the verge of an emotional downpour as well.

Each one of them gave a very honest speech about some of their experiences with the Bureau and how it had been Emily Prentiss, to help them out, to make it all better, to make them stay and fight, to keep making a difference in the world.

All of them spoke about the job, but also about their family outside of the job, and the one overlapping thing was a constant – Emily Prentiss, the Unit Chief and the sisterly figure to everyone.

Emily bit her bottom lip so hard, trying to prevent herself from bawling her eyes out, hearing all those things. She already knew them, everyone had come to her privately, they had told her those things before, but they were all ganging up against her Poker Face now and making it hard for her to even breathe, or to fight that urge to cry. It was so bittersweet.

After pouring their hearts out, each member of the team - and that included Derek Morgan, active Agent or not; finally sat down, _besides_ Emily now.

JJ sat on Emily's left side, now that the right side chair was occupied by the girl that JJ barely even remembered from the Academy's first night out at Devil Child Bar. JJ's hand then rested on Emily's knee, as a sign of trust, respect and well, love for her boss.

Soon, everyone followed her lead. Reid put his hand on JJ's knee, Garcia put her hand on Morgan's knee, since he had insisted on being part of it all, even if he wasn't an Agent anymore. Rossi put his hand on Angela's knee - even if he only knew her briefly that kid had shown bravery and integrity, so she deserved his little act of support.

Emily looked left and right and realized she was the only one not extending her support and gratitude. Her left hand then slipped to JJ's knee and her right hand, hesitantly, slipped to Angela's knee, as weird as that made her feel. It was all about team work and, at that moment, this girl was more than welcome to be on their side.

Angie's little heart was about to burst with joy. This - two hands, is all she wanted in return for what she had done.

"Alright, now, I would like to thank Section Chief Fowler for wasting time and valuable money and government resources, right at the moment when the Bureau is undergoing budget cuts. Thank you from deep down in my heart, for showing me your true colors. I take that as a lesson learned and, next time I'd have to assign a Section Chief, I promise all of you here at the Bureau, that I would take my damn sweet time in selecting one that would be suitable for the job, instead of assigning the only one available, so I can meet the Bureau's expectations quickly." The man was irritated, but he tried really hard to not be aggressive. He liked passive aggressive comments, instead. He was really good at being ironic, everyone knew that.

"Also, this was the very last time you would ever hear that title before your name." He stated calmly, extending his hand. "Your badge and gun, please?"

People gasped. He certainly had the authority to do what he was doing, but everyone kind of thought the process would be a bit longer than that.

"You are suspended from duty and can consider yourself persona non grata anywhere near Federal buildings, in all states. Effective immediately!" He said and Angela just wanted to stand up and make another one of her happy dances in the middle of the room.

"I officially declare the beginning of an investigation against Mrs. Fowler. If anyone has any incriminating information, you know where my office is." He stated.

Someone nudged the guy next to them and the shift made people look at them.

"Uhm, Sir. I may have something to add." A slim guy stood up and spoke in shaky voice. "I'm a tech analyst here and uh, this woman, she uh, she has asked me a few times to go to a party with her and uh, she showed me a photo once with her uh, well, wearing one of those costumes in the photo from earlier. Uh, and she's also, uh, with her hands, you know…" He trailed off, but then the person who nudged him urged him to speak up. "She was quite…straightforward. A few times. I uh, just didn't say anything, because she was the Section Chief, you know…"

"Oh, sexual abuse claims now too? This is brightening my day and opening up my appetite." The man smirked. This was making it so easy to get rid of a woman he despised anyway.

"Also, Sir, she mentioned a property and I was curious, so I checked her bank transactions. And I know this is not okay, I mean, I am okay with a punishment for that. But uh, she recently acquired a property just out of town, with uh…" The same guy kept on talking. He was so stressed out that he barely managed to speak clearly.

"It happened right when the budget cut was imposed. And a big part of the BAU budget, along with one other Unit, went straight to her personal bank account, allowing for the acquiring of that property. The proof is all online." He added and then shut up before he would pass out from his anxiety.

"Ok, embezzlement and fraud…check." The judge nearly laughed, at this point he was not even surprised anymore. "Please, direct everything else to me in written form and let me dismiss this sad circus, so we can all go back to our jobs. And having said that – BAU Unit, consider yourselves cleared from all charges. This would _not_ be going on your file. And, please, accept my apologies for all the inconvenience caused. You may resume your ordinary work schedule and I will personally make sure your caseload gets back to normal."

Emily finally let an emotion show – she smiled.

"Unfortunately, though, the budget cuts are still very much a thing. And while I will make sure what we have cut from the selected Units goes into the Bureau's account, not someone's personal one, I can sadly not promise you when and _if_ your budget would ever go back to what it was." The man spoke, his concluding words.

"Now, finally, SSA Prentiss, do you have anything to say?" He desperately wanted to get this done with, but it wouldn't be fair if the originally accused one did not get the chance to speak at trial.

So far, through it all, Emily Prentiss had not uttered a word. She had not let a single emotion show on her face. She was just sitting there, staring blankly at the scene that was unfolding in front of her eyes. It was all part of the plan.

"No, Sir." Emily smiled. "Actually, yes. Drinks on me tonight at Devil Child bar!" She smirked, looking around the hall. "And I would like to request your permission for this girl and her Academy trainee friends to come join us, if they want to. Their prank was quite funny this year." She added.

He nodded in agreement.

Fowler was by then a mess. She started yelling some incomprehensible insults to Emily and her team and to just about anyone she laid her eyes on. She continued calling Angela very colorful names and she had to be accompanied out of the hall, by two Agents, holding her on both sides, dragging her out of there like a mad woman, kicking and screaming.

"Now, please, everyone - get out of here!" He added, finally dismissing this Hell of a circus and also finally allowing himself to chuckle, because this was too much of a scene for him to handle, even in his position as Director of the FBI.


	51. The World Deserves To See You Smile

**CHAPTER 51**

_**THE WORLD DESERVES TO SEE YOU SMILE**_

After the BAU hearing, the doors opened and everyone split up, going their own way down the halls, but not before giving the BAU team some encouraging words and also expressing shame for having been bribed into this mess.

Emily let everyone know that she had no judgment and she would hold no grudge and that they were all welcome that night to go out for drinks.

"Hey?" Emily called out, as she spotted the person she had been searching for.

"Yes?" Angie turned around slowly, hesitantly.

"I hope to see you tonight. You deserve a night out after…well, being so brave to stand up to that woman." Emily felt ill-at-ease at that moment.

Rossi was watching her from distance and he could sense how tensed up Emily was, for whatever reason.

"No, thanks, I'm fine. I'm not much of a drinker. One less thing on the tab for you." Angie winked at the woman in front of her and she took a few more steps towards the elevator, now with her back at Emily.

"They have great nonalcoholic cocktails, too!" Emily just couldn't let it go, so she called out after the girl.

Angela was now getting in the elevator and her answer did not change.

* * *

"Are you joking?" Bryan gasped when Angie told him everything that had happened.

Bryan was one of the guys dressed as Robyn Hood, but during his two-minute stay in that hall, he didn't even understand why all these people were gathered there.

He now realized Angie's agenda, the night they had crashed that themed party. It wasn't just for the sick fun and the cheap thrills. She had a specific aim in mind and a plan that she had executed perfectly, down to the last detail. He couldn't help but feel proud of her, and yet, he also felt intimidated. Why was she so damn good at fooling people? What if she was also fooling him?

"Nope. That's exactly what happened." She said innocently. "Then they spoke about budget and whatever and then your imaginary girlfriend invited everyone to drinks tonight, including Trainees."

"What? Agent Hotness did that?" Bryan had sparkles in his eyes. "Oh, we are _so_ going."

"_You_ can go." She bit the top of her pencil, now waiting for their late morning class to start. "I don't want to be seen with a busted lip, at a bar. Plus, alcohol would sting so hard against my ripped lip."

"They serve nonalcoholic stuff as well!" Bryan said, in attempts to get her to change her mind.

"That's what she said, too. You know, maybe you guys were made for each other after all. Ugh!" Angie rolled her eyes with disgust, just thinking about it.

The teacher walked in and hurried to start the class, so he could make up for those two hours that he had to cut off the beginning of it.

Angie looked at him and realized that he was one of the Agents who had, initially, been sitting near Fowler before he had walked over to Emily's side. She then realized why the class had needed to be pushed.

* * *

"Emily, we've been looking everywhere for you." JJ exclaimed, walking out to where the fountain was.

Emily loved that fountain and she would often go have her coffee there, by herself, just thinking about stuff.

"Sorry, I just needed some fresh air." She shrugged.

Her team circled around her and started discussing that previous hour and a half of their lives and how everything had turned out to be in their favor.

Emily was quiet and a bit distant. She barely even spoke.

"Come on, I thought you'd be happier about the outcome." Luke teased her.

"I am. I just, this has drained all of my energy recently and now that it's finally over, I feel exhausted." She said convincingly.

"Yeah, I gotta say, our plan from last night was the bomb. We hit Fowler with her own game, just switching up the rules a little bit. She wanted us to speak up and point out our mistakes, so she could use them against us. Well, we were all mute, during the entire hearing, allowing _her_ to speak and make a fool out of herself. God, the Director was so confused when Emily just sat there, on her own, not uttering a word. And wow, that poker face, whoah girl!" JJ grinned at Emily.

"I have to add, though…" Reid looked at Rossi. "You killed it in the end!" He added with a smile.

Rossi had stepped up and he had initiated that emotional downpour in front of everyone, when he had told the judge that the team stood right behind Emily and her every decision.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest?" Rossi suggested, taking the spotlight off of himself and putting it back on who it needed to illuminate.

"No, I'm not leaving you guys on the first day back on the job." Emily shook her head disapprovingly.

"It's not like we have a case to work on. Come on, please. You should rest and then we're celebrating tonight." JJ insisted.

Emily decided to cave in, just because she really needed some rest. Her head was all over the place, she now had a splitting headache and there was a certain pain in her chest that she could not shake or ignore any longer.

She walked over to the parking lot, finding someone leaning against her car, with a thug smile all over their face, looking at someone else as they were getting in their own car, two rows away from them.

The one getting in the car was Fowler. She was receiving dirty looks by someone less than half her age.

"You don't fuck with Emily Prentiss!" The young one hissed, almost inaudibly, but the message was loud and clear.

The woman drove off, for the last time, still creeped out by Angela, with her eyes and that icy cold stare.

"Uh, excuse me. What are you doing to my car?" Emily walked to the person who was practically grinding against the vehicle, as if she was a gangster in a 90's rap song video. The only thing missing was the bandana and the illegal gun. But the thug facial expression was there and it was kind of enough.

"I uh…" Angie said, feeling busted. Her eyes became softer and her lips formed a tiny apologetic smile.

"It's a hot car. Uh. I was just…" She kept digging herself a bigger hole. "Feeling it, you know?" She let her hand run against the top of Emily's car, as if she was caressing it with passion, even though the truth was she did not care about cars at all. This one was just props for her last little mind game, a game of power against someone she had already overpowered.

Emily burst into laughter and watched Angela run off towards the training campus without saying another word.

"See you tonight!" Emily found herself having to yell at this girl's back, for the second time today, just to get her to listen. Maybe.

She then ignored all the greasy fingerprints that the girl had left, clearly after having finished eating her late lunch like a Neanderthal, and she drove back home, wanting nothing more than a hot shower and a few hours of sleep.

* * *

Angie was feeling this weird overflow of power, so for her afternoon class she did something she had promised she would never do – she volunteered for an exercise during tactical driving.

She didn't flop quite as badly as the first time around, however, she didn't do too well either. She found the idea of having to drive wildly, but safely, quite nerve-wracking and that was preventing her from giving better results during those specific training lessons.

"Hey, I'm proud of you for volunteering!" Bryan commented when she joined him, back in line with the other Trainees.

"Thanks, it felt good to fight my own daemons." She stated quietly before giving her undivided attention to the instructor, who was now sure that she would be flanking her final exam in his discipline. She was just not good at it, at all.

After that class, Bryan hurried to go back to the dorms and to take a shower before dressing up nicely.

"Did you just put eau de cologne?" Angie cringed. "God, could you be a little less obvious?"

"What? We've been invited to a party. With drinks. And people." He defended himself, straightening out his smart shirt.

"And Agent Hotness…" She teased him.

"Yeah, a lot of people…" He said lamely. "One of whom just so happens to be that said Agent."

"Dude, I hate to break it to you, but she ain't gonna get down with a Trainee." Angela laughed so hard.

"What? I never said anything…" He smiled to himself.

"Just, keep it in your pants. Please!" She said and walked in for a shower.

Bryan got ready first, so he said he would be waiting for her outside, not wanting to sweat in that tiny room. Also, because that shower gel that she always used was too nauseatingly sweet for him to handle and he would grip onto every excuse just to get away from its smell, whenever possible.

Angie took quite some time to get ready as well, but when she walked out to where her group of friends was waiting for her, she received some very appreciative looks from them.

"Damn, tough girl cleans up well!" One of the guys commented, checking her up and down.

"Shut up before I blush and make a fool out of my otherwise tough self." Angie laughed and they called a few cabs, for two reasons.

One, Trainees were not allowed to leave the Campus just yet, so going with their own cars would mean they would have to register on their way out and then on their way in. Which, that night, wouldn't be a problem since they had the permission to go out, but still, they wouldn't want to risk having to explain themselves to anyone after the night out.

Two, they were going drinking. Nobody was willing to sacrifice their free drink, just to be the designated driver of the night. It was just not happening.

They walked in the bar when it was already somewhat busy. The BAU was already there, and so were a few other Units that had the invite extended to them. Jessica Meyers was there as well, with her team.

"Hey, I'm glad you could make it." Emily greeted the bunch of Trainees when they walked through the door.

It was obvious it was them – they were the youngest people around. Also, she clearly remembered Angela's face. How could she not?

"Had to push my schedule real hard, so I could squeeze this in." Angie said dramatically before she started laughing.

"Oh, this is Bryan. He's head over heels for you." She said, hitting Bryan's chest casually while looking at Emily Prentiss.

"You're welcome." Angie turned around, whispering to Bryan and then she casually walked over to the bar on her own.

"I uh…" He stuttered, now standing in front of a woman that, quite frankly, scared him, for some reason.

"She's just like that…you know?" He said lamely.

"Oh, I know, as far as I've been able to profile Angela Hunter." Emily smirked.

Rossi was keeping an eye on her, as usual, and he was relieved to notice that she was in quite a good mood now, unlike in the early afternoon.

"Yeah, that's right. You're a profiler. We just had classes with uh, I'm really bad with names…" He trailed off. He could see Reid and Rossi in the distance, sitting by the BAU's favorite table, but he could not put a name on either one of them.

"The really smart one and the writer superstar." He said, hoping it would make it obvious who he was talking about.

"Doctor Spencer Reid and SSA David Rossi." Emily smiled at him, hoping that maybe by hearing those two names again, he would be able to repeat them in the future.

"Yes, them." He smiled back at her.

"Did you like the classes?" Emily asked curiously.

"Actually, yes. I've never considered profiling before, but uh, it looks really good to me…" Without knowing it, he allowed his eyes to check Emily out for just a brief second.

"Oh, I'm going to have to stop you right there." She commented and he knew he was busted.

"So, which division are you interested in joining?" She changed the topic swiftly, holding a drink in one hand. She could tell the guy was feeling super weird around her, and Angela's introduction had not helped his case, at all.

"I come from SWAT, so I would like to join either SWAT or the Hostage Rescue Team. I'd be happy either way. And just for the record, I really meant that I find profiling to be interesting. Well, I'm not quite as obsessed as Angie, but still…" He trailed off, his eyes landing on Angie who was now happily sipping her first drink, one that did not look like fruit juice with a straw. Bryan had a feeling she wouldn't pass on a chance to drink. She was right by the bar, talking to a few other female Trainees who had earlier played Robin Hood.

"Obsessed, huh?" Emily raised an eyebrow. She didn't have to ask anything else. She knew how to make a guy start talking.

"She's crazy about all that stuff. You should have seen her in Mr. Rossi's class. She killed it out there. I mean, it being her first profiling experience, she was spot on!" Bryan recalled how Angie had guessed all the details, down to the color of the car the Unsub drove. She had found it too easy to guess that one. Red symbolized rage and that was what had been building up inside of the Unsub for years. It was an easy guess.

"Well, it's good to hear we have some talented young Trainees, interested in profiling this year." Emily said casually before taking a sip of her drink.

"If I was you, I'd be expecting her formal request to join the team. I mean, yours or any other team of profilers." He corrected himself.

"A bit unfortunate…" Emily muttered to herself while simply just nodding at Bryan. There was a certain sadness in her eyes, for a moment. There was still the damned budget problem.

"So, when's the wedding?" Angie butted in when she felt like she had given Bryan enough time to make a complete fool out of himself.

Bryan went pale while Emily kept on laughing.

"Excuse me. I have to return to my team. But, enjoy your evening and make sure you put all your drinks on my tab. See you around." Emily said, excusing herself quickly.

"Sure, invite us and then leave." Angie rolled her eyes. "How rude." She added before grabbing Bryan and dragging him towards the bar, as he looked like he needed a drink after meeting his Goddess in the flesh.

Emily heard Angie's remark, on her way to her table. It wasn't too loud around them just yet, so she heard the words loud and clear – especially the word _leave_. She sighed, but refused to let this upset her.

"I like her." Garcia stated, as soon as Emily joined them at the table.

"Me too. She's so sweet and genuine." Reid commented.

_"__Garcia I'll have to excuse, but you, Reid, are a profiler. How could you not see right through the act…"_ Emily thought to herself, without saying a word out loud. She had her own theory and profile on that Angela Hunter girl and, until proven the contrary, she would stand by that profile.

"Are you drinking?" JJ asked happily, tipsy from the second drink that she had already downed.

"No, I don't know when it would be too soon to get back to my wine routine." Emily shot a glance at Garcia, letting her know she was not completely off the hook for the poisoning incident, even if Emily never officially spoke to her about it.

Garcia grabbed Morgan's hand and disappeared off to the other side of the bar where she intended to play some darts before JJ would find out where they were and come win every single game. She was just too good at it.

More Agents kept coming in and ordering drinks and Emily almost regretted inviting everyone, in the middle of budget cuts. However, if the bar tab drained her bank account, she'd at least be a happy broke person, after the win she had achieved that day. A win that, the Angela Hunter girl had helped tremendously for, whether she knew it or not.

"Come on, Hot Stuff, bust a move! It's Friday night." Morgan creeped to Emily's side a little later, grabbing her by the waist and taking her away from her comfort zone – the chair.

He was soon followed by Garcia, who randomly started dancing to some song that she had never even heard before.

JJ was halfway intoxicated, so she joined them willingly.

Luke and Matt were in need of a night like that, so they followed in everyone's steps, dancing awkwardly near the table.

Literally nobody else was dancing. Not a single soul.

The bartender saw them having a good time, so he took it as a sign to turn the lights down and turn the music up.

The Trainees had their own little corner now and they were more than eager to dance a little.

"Get wild, girl." One of Angie's new friends encouraged her when she was starting to bring up her game.

"Just warming up!" She yelled back at her friends and danced like nobody was watching.

At some point she went to the bartender and said something to him before returning to her friends.

She then tried to sing along with a song that she really liked, but found it hard to move her mouth in a way that didn't hurt her newly acquired injury.

Half an hour later, the bar was a mess. There were people everywhere and it looked even busier than on the first day of the Academy. Apparently the news of free drinks traveled fast around the halls of the main building, as the trainees were only about twenty. And yet, they were making noise as if they were two hundred.

Some of them were on top of the tables, happily chanting along with the songs, others had formed up a silly dance-train that was now going around the bar and random people joined in and imitated their dance moves. It was so ridiculous, so childish, but it made everyone have a great time. And wasn't that the point of a night out?

Emily spent the night with a bittersweet feeling in her stomach. She danced, yes, and she also drank a lot of fruit juice that was poured in cocktail glasses, but there was something that was holding her back. And she felt awful about it, because she should have been happy. She should be giving her team a 100% of her joy and just let loose. Yet, when she spoke, she was a little more silent than usual. When she danced, she was a little more reserved than she deserved to be.

At some point, a song came up and made her smile, despite all the reservations.

"Up for a show?" Angie's soft voice sounded from behind Emily's shoulder.

If it was true that Angie was good at profiling, then it would mean that she had profiled Emily's reserved movements for the past thirty minutes, coming to the conclusion that this woman just needed a little push.

"To _that_ song?" Emily laughed.

It was one of the most overly sexualized dance tracks she had ever heard. She also loved that song, so much.

"Aha!" Angie smirked and dragged Emily away from her comfort zone again, away from her team.

"Oh, come on!" Angie crossed her hands against her chest when she saw how stiff that woman was, now in the middle of the improvised dancefloor. "Is that all you have, SSA Emily Prentiss?" She said challengingly.

"I'm Unit Chief! I can't make a fool of myself in front of all my colleagues." Emily pointed out.

Angie just looked around, forcing Emily to do the same.

Jessica Meyers was now getting wild with two of her other female colleagues. A group of four Agents were being taught how to twerk by two of the Trainees, one of whom was a guy who had no idea how to even do that dance move. It just seemed funny. And then, the silly dance train was now going past them, with everyone being complete idiots, waving their hands in the air without a trace of any kind of coordination.

"Point taken." Emily rolled her eyes and finally let herself to bust a move.

"Yeaah, this is how we do it!" Angie cheered for her and joined in.

Halfway through the song, Emily didn't care about anything in the world. She was just present, in the moment.

"Wow, I've never seen her so…" Rossi commented, still keeping an eye on her.

"Happy? Free? Sexeeeeyyyy?" JJ said, slurring her every letter. "It's called alcohol. And it is awesooome!"

Reid had to contain himself from telling her that Emily was not drinking any alcohol. He knew that JJ, the sane JJ, was gone by that point. She was now a mess of jumping sweaty blonde hair, dancing with everyone she saw around her.

Emily was smiling, wholeheartedly, now dancing with some random girl she had only met what seemed like a second ago.

It felt good to see the Emily Prentiss that Morgan once knew. Derek smirked, thinking his job there was done. He had a ticket back home on Sunday morning and, even if he had helped a bit in building Emily up, he still felt like he wasn't too keen on going away, again.

Emily raised her hands up in the air, not wanting the song to be over. Lost in the moment, she felt another pair of hands right next to hers, up above their heads.

And they were soft hands, warm hands, a little sweaty, too. But they felt good, now being locked with hers. She felt a smaller set of fingers wrap around the palm of her hands and she smiled even wider. There was something so comforting about this small gesture, one that was part of the dance. That girl surely has positive vibes all around her. She had always made Bryan feel good, then Dan had warmed up to her, Hell even Ben had started liking her and seeing her worth. She was overall a joy to be around. Well, unless someone crossed her, then she could be a real ruthless bitch, as proved that same morning.

Emily's chin quivered and Angie knew exactly how much pressure that woman must have been under lately. No wonder she was now an emotional mess.

"Chin up, beautiful! The world deserves to see you smile!" She leaned over and spoke to Emily.

The song, sadly, ended, and so did their little wild dance. Emily felt cold air against her palms, now that Angela had retrieved her hands from hers. But at least it was good while it lasted.

"Hey, I want a piece of that sexy!" JJ was waiting for the next song to start, so she could jump in and get herself some wild Emily action as well. They had so many amazing memories, dancing the night away, from years ago, so now JJ was eager to make more memories, even though it was doubtful she would even remember that night once she sobered up.

"She's all yours." Angie said, excusing herself quickly.

This was her second brief interaction with JJ and, for the second time, Angela had fled the scene immediately. Maybe she just did not like her. She did, after all, hang out with more guys than girls.

She went around the place, searching for Bryan, finding him by the bar, with a fresh drink in hand.

"You know that when someone offers drinks, they usually only mean the first round is on them?" Angie smirked.

"I don't suppose she specified…?" He said lamely, letting Angie take a sip of his drink, to try it.

"Eww, that is almost as disgusting as your little obsession with Agent Hotness!" She stated, cringing.

"Wouldn't say _I'm_ the one obsessed with her, judging by the way you two were dancing out there…" He teased her, grabbing his drink and guarding it from further judgment.

"I don't know, man. I just think there's something nice about her…" She shrugged. "Also, she looked miserable and I'm known to make people have a good time. So, why not?"

"Just so you know, I'll get back at you for embarrassing me like that, in front of her! Oh, you won't even know what hit you!" Bryan smirked, knowing that his revenge would be good.

"Yeah, I'm not scared." Angie stuck her tongue at him, feeling a bit more free-spirited now that she had a fresh drink in her hand as well.

"Then why are you trying to walk away?" Bryan was almost about to have the satisfaction of having intimidated Angela, but she wouldn't give it up so easily. Or, ever.

"I need to pee." She said, clinking her glass against his and walking towards the girls' bathroom.

"Ugh…" Someone said, as if in pain.

Angie checked the stalls and found a messy blonde in one of them, sitting with her head in her hands, looking down.

"Hey, are you alright? Do you need some water? A taxi?" Angie kneeled down, in front of the girl.

"Nah." The blonde one replied.

"Girl, been there." Angie laughed. "Come on, I can get you back home safely..." She then trailed off before she started laughing as she continued. "…said every serial killer ever."

"Actually, most of them get off on blitz attacking their victims. They take most enjoyment in the fact that they are overpowering them, hurting them. So they would, generally, not offer help as part of their rouse. Then again, everyone is different." The blonde one held her hair up and Angie finally saw a face, in between sweaty strands of hair.

She then froze and stood still. For some reason, her body did not move an inch.

The girl's hands grabbed Angie's and she looked her straight in the eyes.

"Oh, hey there, Lioness." The blonde girl said and Angie's face became pale before she disappeared, leaving the drunk girl to wonder if she was even there or maybe it was her imagination.

"Mr. Rossi?" Angie called out as she hurried to the BAU table.

"JJ is in a bit of a pickle, back there, in the bathroom. I think she might be a bit more than reasonably sloshed." She said quietly, not wanting to embarrass the girl in front of everyone.

"I was wondering where she disappeared off to after her little dance with Prentiss." He put his drink down and gazed towards the bathroom. In the back of his mind, he started wondering why Angela had used 'sloshed', instead of 'drunk'. As far as he knew, it was young people slang, from Canada. He could be mistaken. However, this was not the first foreign slang word he had heard her use.

"She must have entered when you were eye-stalking the Prentiss one by the bar, like, a few minutes ago." Angie commented, but soon realized that her attention to detail made her sound like a creepy stalker herself.

"Don't worry, I'll drop JJ off at home. She doesn't hold her liqueur as well as she used to." He chuckled.

"She's a good friend." Angie stated her conclusion, imagining how worried JJ must have been for her boss, her job and her colleagues. No wonder, when everything was resolved, she had dived into alcohol, to make herself feel a bit better.

"She is. She really is a wonderful person…who cannot hold her liqueur." Rossi joked once more and Angie knew that this was his way of turning this matter into something lighter.

"Are you okay to go back home?" He asked.

"Me? Why? I'm not even part of your team." Angie raised an eyebrow. Nobody ever asked her if she was okay, with anything. This felt weird.

"Well, you're young, female, you're drinking…" He pointed out. "It doesn't matter which team you play for. It's human nature to be nurturing." He added, confused by her words. It seemed that, to her, if she wasn't one of theirs, she did not deserve to be treated well. And that sounded to him like suppressed issues.

"Oh, that? No, I'm totally fine. I know my limits, I'm really responsible. And I know how to take care of myself anyway. I mean, come on, I'm in the FBI Academy!" She said proudly. "Although, saying that to you would sound so immature, with all your experience…" She added dreamily. It was obvious how much she respected the man. If it were normal, she'd be bowing to his feet, each time she saw him. In her eyes, David Rossi was a Divine creature.

"Something is telling me that, at my age, you'll have just as much, if not more, experience." He tapped her shoulder and went to get JJ.

The fact that Angela came to _him_ about JJ told him something about that girl. But he would keep his opinions to himself, for the moment being. And he would keep analyzing that girl, if he ever had the chance to cross paths with her again, which, he hoped he'd be able to.

After JJ left with Rossi, more people started to excuse themselves. Some had to work in the morning, because an FBI Agent never really gets to choose their off days.

"Oh, come ooooon!" Emily whined when she inevitably realized that she was one of the few people still dancing.

"Three." Reid walked up to her, in the middle of the dancefloor, and he just stood there, with a smug facial expression and his hands in his pockets. This was as close as he had ever come to dancing. Or socializing in the middle of a crowd. Ever.

"Why do I have the feeling you're about to talk about statistics?" Emily rolled her eyes, laughing.

"Statistically, one out of three women gets talked to in a casual flirtatious manner, at a bar where alcohol is served." Reid spoke with determination.

"Also, statistically, in thirty-three percent of the times, this ends up with a romantic fling, although the percentage of how many of those flings go over the one-night limit does not contain the number three, so let's skip that one." He added.

"Yeah. Let's skip it altogether, shall we?" Emily suggested.

"Three times you went to the bathroom this evening…" Reid continued.

In typical Reid fashion, it would take him a while to get to the point.

"Eww, Reid!" Emily felt a bit weird that someone was pointing that out.

Truth was, she had drunk about seven mocktails and she could not hold this much liquids in her system while dancing. Still, a weird observation on Reid's side.

"You interacted with that cute young girl three times tonight." He pointed out.

"Cute?" Emily teased him, wanting to change the topic, simply because she could not understand what Reid's topic was.

"Three times you've tried to interrupt me already." He frowned. "How rude!" He added playfully.

"Ugh, fine." She stopped moving to the music and just stared at him, waiting for whatever it was that he wanted to say, to come out already.

"You also put your hair in a ponytail three times this evening, but each time you ended up letting it loose afterwards." He looked at her as she was currently playing with a strand of hair.

"You're killing me." She sighed impatiently.

"And three very eligible bachelors started up a conversation with you tonight, but three times you've shot them down, all three of them." There it was.

"Reid, I'm not looking for a relationship…" Emily whispered.

"Ah! Remember those thirty-three percent from before?" He smirked, pointing out that it could have just been a fling, or even a one-night thing.

"Okay, no. This is none of your business!" Emily was now blushing.

"Don't hate on me when you end up alone!" Reid shrugged casually.

"Hey, don't say I didn't warn you!" He added while walking away, since he knew that Emily was able and willing to hurt him.

"What was that all about?" Garcia asked as she was just walking towards them, for another desperate attempt to make Reid dance. Or smile.

"Nothing." Emily said innocently. If Garcia hadn't heard the discussion, Emily was happy.

"So, how about those hot guys that were feeling you tonight, huh?" And there it was – Garcia brought up the same damn thing.

"God, is everyone going to point it out!?" Emily felt so uncomfortable.

"Well, you're either all out there for grabs or you're all inside your little shell, for no one to touch. I mean, it kind of is your label." Garcia pointed out, sipping on someone's drink. If she had to be honest, she had no idea who it belonged to. She had just found it on the table, well, someone else's table, but given the fact that literally everyone in that bar was FBI, she could be calm that the drink was not spiked.

"Let's not ruin this, otherwise wonderful day, by talking about men." Emily laughed sarcastically, because the day had been nothing but stressful.

"I just wanted to say how proud I am of you for taking such good care of us. It's also kind of distressful that Emily Prentiss only came out to play when she had to do it for _us_, and she just wouldn't even bother when she has to do it for _herself_. But I'm glad to have you back. And it was great scheming and acting with you. I had fun. Although, if you ever really yell at me like that, I will more than cry…Oh, I will tear up my vocal chords while crying. Woman, you are scary!" Garcia laughed, referring to their little acting scene at the office.

"Yeah, I must admit – recently I've been missing my old scheming CIA ways." She leaned in and whispered to Garcia, since that was most certainly not public knowledge.

"Also, I really enjoyed last night. It was a stressful week, but we all needed to get together, one last time, before the hearing. I'm glad everything worked out. And that kid, the one who complimented my shoes, she definitely helped our case. I kind of am curious to know who she is now!" Garcia said cheekily.

"Ah, when you figure it out, please let me know." Emily laughed. She prided herself in being able to read people with ease, but somehow with that girl, she was failing.

"Calling it a night, Ladies!" Luke and Matt walked over to greet their friends.

"We're taking this ball of sunshine back home." Matt pointed at Tara who, much like JJ, had a bit too much to drink.

"Alright, I'll text Will to make sure JJ is okay." Emily waved at the three of them and offered Garcia to share a taxi, as they were on the same route.

She then realized one more thing – Garcia and her were the only Seniors left around.

_"__It's gettin' hot in hereeeeeeee…"_ Angie was heard yelling at the top of her lungs, singing along with the current song, surrounded by nothing but fellow Trainees.

_"__So take of all your clothes…"_ Someone else kept singing the end of those lyrics.

"Ya wiiiiish!" Angie stuck her tongue at him and kept on dancing.

"I wish I was her." Garcia said, watching her with dreamy eyes. "Look at her. She's full of life. Smiling, like she doesn't have a care in the world…"

"I bet she has her own drama going on." Emily shrugged.

Nobody was perfect. And the closer to perfection one might seem, the further they actually were from it.

"Yeah, but she knows how to be that version of herself who does…that…" Garcia pointed at Angie who was now being picked up by a bunch of Academy guys and carried around like a trophy, on top of their heads.

"Guess we can all learn a thing or two from that one, huh?" Emily smiled and glanced over at Angela one more time before she went to the bar. Something about one guy's hands, eagerly supporting Angela's butt cheeks as the girl was up in the air, was bothering Emily. It looked…wrong.

"Hey, I'm Emily Prentiss, the crazy one who opened a tab tonight." She said, as if the bartender hadn't seen her at least once a week there. Everyone knew her there.

"Oh, it's been taken care of." He said, double checking the piece of paper before he would make a mistake.

"What? There must be some mistake. I'm supposed to pay all the drinks tonight." She insisted.

"Yeah, and here's the list of all the orders. They've all been paid for." He said, now sure of his words. Proof was in his hands.

"Except for this last one…" He then added.

"Ugh, Rossi must have paid." Emily commented out loud. "One drink left? Well, I guess I'm paying that one then."

"Yeah, she ordered that after closing your tab." The bartender commented while offering Emily a complimentary water bottle.

"She?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

"Yup." He said and before Emily could grill him some more, Garcia was yelling for her to hurry up as their taxi had just arrived.

"May I ask what drink she ordered?" Curiosity just wouldn't let her leave without answers.

"Forever Devilish. You know, the red one with the berries on top and pretty much everything else straight up vodka." He laughed and waved goodbye after Emily handed him cash for that specific drink.

The Trainees were eager to stay some more, but the bar had to close soon, so they were kindly asked to leave, four times, a little after Emily and Garcia left.


	52. Always Were And Always Will Be One Of Us

**CHAPTER 52**

_**ALWAYS WERE AND ALWAYS WILL BE ONE OF US**_

"Wake ya ol' ass up!" Angie said loudly, hopping on top of Bryan's bed.

"It's freaking 5:30 on a Saturday. And that's after a Friday night out. With drinks!" Bryan argued, desperately trying to get some more sleep.

"We have PFT!" She announced, her hands now shaking him by the shoulders.

"Not until 7." He groaned from underneath the covers which she soon tossed to the floor.

"Get up. Now!" She said sternly and, at this point, Bryan had already lost his faith in humanity.

She urged him to get ready and then announced that breakfast was on her. But, instead of buying anything, she had a different idea.

They walked to the main building, with Angie holding a little bag full of sweet treats, all from her care packages.

Bryan was soon introduced to Angie's favorite hangout spot – the Lounge.

"Dude, this place looks exclusive." He commented as soon as he walked in.

Everything was clean, minimalistic design, and it looked quite fancy.

"It's the FBI building. _Everything_ is exclusive to us. We're just a bunch of Trainees." She pointed out and it was a valid point. Nothing they had was as shiny and new as what the main building looked like.

"Plus, check this out…" She walked over to the little counter in one of the corners of the room, pointing at the coffee machine and the tray of freshly baked goodies.

"Damn, I can't wait to be an Agent!" Bryan smirked, preparing two coffees and placing them in paper cups, so they could enjoy their breakfast outside, getting fresh air.

It was now 6 am and they were just about to walk out of the lounge, when a familiar face stopped Angie by the door.

"Hey!" The woman said to her. "You're the girl from the hearing. The one Fowler was abusing."

"Oh, God. I hope that nickname doesn't stick." Angie laughed.

"Why did you make a shush sign to us when we walked in?" The woman asked and Bryan realized this must be one of the two witnesses who saw the Section Chief being physically violent towards Angie, the previous morning.

"Because I know how to protect myself." Angie said calmly. "And also because I knew that you would do the right thing at that hearing." She then winked to the woman and left.

Angie was good at reading people. As soon as she had seen two people witness the scene, she was sure that those would testify against the woman. That was why she had immediately made a sign for them to leave and to let the scene unravel naturally. And she was right, that was exactly how things had played out.

"You're making quite a name for yourself here and it's only week three." Bryan commented as they were walking outside, searching for a quiet place to have their breakfast at.

"Isn't that the point, though? The more people know you, the more they respect you and give you chances to show them what you're capable of. I ain't here to waste no time." She said while placing a little blanket on the grass, finally happy with a spot near the pond.

"You know, you sometimes sound like such a lil' thug." He pointed out.

It was something he had noticed right from the start – Angie was usually calm and a bit too formal, overly educated even, when she spoke, but sometimes the inner thug in Angie came out to play and he found that to be hilarious, because he could simply not imagine her being all tough and merciless. She was such a sweet girl.

Bryan was not known to be the best judge of character, though.

They sat there for about an hour, getting sugar high while discussing random things about their classes.

"It's almost week four…" Angie commented at some point.

"Yeah. Wow. Time flies…" He smirked. "…when in good company." He then added, looking directly at her.

"Oh, I vow to protect and respect you until the day I take my last breath, because I simply cannot imagine a day in the life of Angela Hunter, without you in it!" She said in her usual sweet and innocent tone, giving him a hug of appreciation.

Bryan thought to himself for a moment. He had joined the Academy on a whim, or sort of. Thinking back, a month ago he was a completely different person. He had lost himself, but more than that – he had lost everything he ever had and wanted in life. So, for him to be able to smile and enjoy someone's company now, it only meant that this person was quite special. And she was more than special.

"Okay, guess it's time for PFT." Angie announced, checking the time.

They grabbed their stuff and walked to the outside training area. Nobody found it weird that Dan was there, because he usually sat through most of their classes anyway. He was like Big Brother – always watching, even if he was in the sidelines.

Instead of watching them train, which is something he had been very interested in for the past three weeks, he sat aside, talking to one of their teachers – the guy who was teaching Criminology.

"Hey, wasn't his class on for tomorrow instead?" Bryan asked the guy who was now training by his side since Angie was assigned to a different group for the day.

"Yeah, but you know how this week went with all the schedule changes." The guy shrugged and didn't give it too much importance.

Bryan however, had started to think like Angie recently. He would analyze things and clues and maybe make a big deal out of something at times, but he was a lot more curious and paid a lot more attention than he used to, three weeks ago.

After class, Dan asked them all to stay a few minutes, for an announcement.

"Hello everyone. As you all know, we've briefly revised the principles of Criminology and with each new class you are getting into the details and different sides of what it represents. Now, I would like to ask you to divide yourselves in groups from two to five people, and to present a case in class, showing an aspect that you want. It can be anything – from theft to larceny, murder, kidnapping. But I want to hear you discuss it from your point of view. Clearly, you can present an old open case, which you can find in the library. Remember, it is not important _what_ the case is about, it is important for me to hear _how_ you discuss it, the language you use, the techniques you suggest and the way you handle yourselves during this mock investigation. Good luck and I will see you in class tomorrow at 10." The Criminology teacher announced.

"Wait, when are we supposed to present that case?" Someone called out.

"I can already tell that some of you have no bright future as criminologists, if you were unable to tell, by my previous words, that the presentation is due tomorrow." The teacher said and Dan laughed.

Dan had asked him to be rough with Angie and Bryan, but this guy was playing his own game and Dan was loving it.

"Oh, I can hear your inner thoughts, my partner in crime!" Angie smirked as she walked to where Bryan was standing.

"Girl, we _so_ got this!" He said, sure of himself.

They were then free to go shower before their morning class and all the way to the dorm, Angie and Bryan discussed their case.

"Okay, so we know Amanda is alive. That's an actual open case. I mean, clearly orchestrated by them, but we cracked it. So, we now need a Wow-factor." She stated.

"Like, fireworks at the end of our presentation?" He suggested, jokingly.

"No, like Amanda walking her fine ass in at the end of our presentation." She smirked.

"How the Hell are we going to find her in just one day if we haven't found her in three weeks now?" Bryan shrugged, suddenly feeling a bit unsure.

"First of all, she spent a week living with me. So it's been _two_ weeks since she disappeared. Get your facts straight, Agent!" She smiled. "Secondly, we haven't been looking for her, like, at all. So, why do you just assume that we won't be able to find her in one day, if we never even tried?"

"I like your enthusiasm." He smiled, grabbing his towel as they had just entered their dorm.

"It's called positivity. You should get some of your own." She snapped her fingers in the air, acting dramatic, just to make him laugh.

"Uh, okay, Little Miss Diva!" He commented and disappeared in the bathroom as he didn't want them to be late for class.

Angie barely had time to shower and change before they had to run to the auditorium.

"Hahaha, if that ain't the class nerd." Some guy pointed a finger at Angie as she was hurrying for her class.

She turned around, to see if someone was behind her, before she replied to him.

"Oh, good. Nobody behind me. I would have been really upset if you meant those words for anyone other than me!" She smirked, pushing him aside, making herself space to keep walking down the hall.

Bryan had made a stop by the vending machines before class, wanting to grab himself a juice.

"You are so pathetic, though." One of the other guys commented.

"Oh, I most definitely am." Angela called out, now with her back to them, still walking.

One of the guys caught up with her and he made the colossal mistake of placing his hand on her shoulder, to try and make her stop walking and turn around to face him.

It took Angie three seconds to have him sprawled on the floor. He did not know what had hit him.

"Now, I'm going to tell you something and you're going to force your tiny idiotic brain to remember it for the rest of your life!" Angie said, now hovering on top of him, as if she was straddling him.

"You are _never_ again to allow your grabby little hands touch a girl. Am I clear? Because if I ever so much as hear that you've dared to do this to another girl, I'll make damn sure that would be the last thing you ever touched. Alright? Okay now." She spoke calmly, yet with a very new expression on her face – she was no longer the sweet and innocent smiling young girl. She seemed quite…devilish.

"Now, do the world a favor and return to that bunch of idiots you call your 'friends' and never again dare speak to me or any other human being, the way you've been speaking all week long. Because nobody deserves to have your insecurities poured all over them in verbal or physical form. And you better remember _that_, the next time you try to be a dick to someone." She said.

"What's _that_?" He asked, since she emphasized on this specific word, but never explained it.

With one swift motion, she twisted his hand sideways until a tiny cracking sound was heard and he groaned in pain.

"I'm glad you asked." She smirked, finally letting him go and continuing her strut to the auditorium, as if nothing had happened.

The guy returned to his group of friends and he looked pissed.

"Dude, you got owned by a chick!" One of them started laughing and soon, everyone followed.

"Shut up, you idiots!" The main bully said, while trying to pop his shoulder back in its socket. It felt displaced.

"I didn't sign up for this." He added grumpily.

As a true Big Brother figure, Dan appeared from the corner.

"Yes, you did." Dan stated with a smirk.

"We were just supposed to give her a hard time, not to get our bones cracked!" The guy stated.

"Stop overreacting. You've been on the job long enough, surely you have felt pain before." Dan teased him.

"Ugh, I'm so glad this week is almost over." The guy rolled his eyes. "And I'm also glad you now owe us, big time! Because, trust me, that chick is harder to crack than one might think."

"No, here's where you're wrong, Agent." Dan smiled. "That chick is not _hard_ to crack. She's _impossible_ to crack." He corrected the guy.

"Now, all of you, get out of here. Your work here is done. Go back to your Units. Thank you." Dan added.

"Thank us when we call you one day, asking for a favor." The guy now seemed in a bit of a lighter mood. He loved the idea of Dan owing him one after their little stunt.

* * *

_"__Status check?"_ Emily texted the group chat, followed by a laughing emoticon.

Everyone replied that they were alive and sobering up. JJ took a while to reply, but she eventually did, too.

They made plans to go on a field trip that afternoon, since the weather promised to be nice and sunny. Plus, it was their day off.

Also, because it was the last day they got to spend with Morgan. And that day, they actually were off and could go hang out and be with him, without distractions.

"What?" Morgan looked up at Emily, who just appeared and stood by the door of the guest room, where he had been staying for the past five days.

"Wheels up!" She smirked.

"Ah, God, I've missed the mixture of the sound of your voice and those words." He said dreamily. "But seriously now, you guys got a case?"

"No, we're just going out of town for the day. You know, little BAU team building time." She smiled.

As if she knew what Morgan's reaction would be, she was already walking towards his bed, extending her hand to him.

"But, I'm no longer member of the team…" There it was, exactly what she thought he'd say.

Her hand pulled on his shirt, forcing him to stand up.

"You always were and you always will be one of us!" She said softly before throwing a shirt in his face.

"Now, try to look a little more decent." Her eyes checked him up and down. He looked like a hot mess.

"When did you become so good at being a ray of sunshine after a night out?" He asked grumpily, now standing up and searching through his bag, for a pair of pants to fit the shirt that Emily had just tossed at him.

"Since I stopped drinking." She laughed. "Also, since someone very special to me helped me get back into the body and soul of the Emily Prentiss that he used to know."

"Emily, it's 10:30 in the morning. I can't take all of your cuteness. Please, stop. My heart is aching!" He smiled, happy to hear that, even if he had spent a lot of time away from the team during his stay there, he had actually helped her get back on her feet.

* * *

The morning class was now wrapping up and Angie whispered something to Bryan. They both shot a glance at Dan as they were putting their study materials away in their backpacks.

"Hey Dan?" Bryan walked over to him when the class got dismissed.

"Yes?" Dan turned around to see that it was Bryan who was calling him.

"May we speak, in private?" Bryan asked, walking him to a corner of the auditorium.

"Hey, Bryan!" Angie called out and casually walked over to them. "Sorry to interrupt, I just need five bucks."

Bryan shifted around, searching through his pockets while Angie waited behind them. He then handed her a five dollar bill and she left.

"What were you going to talk to me about?" Dan asked, once they were on their own again.

"Yeah. The Academy. I wanted to ask your feedback on a few things." He started off and then asked about his general performance during PFT, expressing concern that he might be slacking a little at the sprint run.

Dan tried to be vague and to not give him the satisfaction of hearing that he had been performing exceptionally well. The focus of Dan's scheme was on the main Wild Card, but Bryan was surely on the radar as well, being the second chosen one this year. So, Dan pointed out a few flaws and made sure that Bryan would feel like crap after their talk. Which, he did.

"Here." Angie came back a few minutes later, giving Bryan his money back. "The damn vending machine only accepts coins." She added with a shrug.

Dan then moved away, just a few inches. And that was giving Angie a bit of a hard time. She leaned against the wall and, much like other times before, her clumsiness got the best of her. Her shoulder slid against the wall and she ended up crashing against Dan, who was now leaning, with his back against the wall, just inches away from her.

"Oh, shoot. I'm sorry." She said, feeling like an idiot. "Ok, baiiiiiiii." She greeted lamely and walked away.

Dan laughed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, she's kind of weird…" Bryan shrugged, as if that excused Angie's awkwardness.

"Tell me about it!" Dan waved his hand, dismissing Bryan, now that he had nothing left to come up with, just to make Bryan feel badly about himself.

Bryan walked out of there, feeling upset.

"What's up?" Angie asked him as soon as he joined her at the cafeteria.

"Dan said I was performing way under the Academy expectations, in PFT especially. And that sucks, because it was the one thing I've been so sure about." He really did look upset.

"Oh, come on. His job is to make us doubt ourselves. Don't let him win. I've seen you train and you are a beast out there, Bry-Bry!" She smiled, her hand gently rubbing his shoulder.

"I mean, I know. But it just sucks hearing that, you know?" He said honestly.

"I know. Words have the power of knocking you down more than actions ever could." She sighed, being well aware of that fact.

"Also, it was all for nothing." He didn't even look less upset when his favorite meal was now being served to him.

"You should have a little more faith in me, partner!" Angie smirked, holding up a crumbled piece of paper, with five phone numbers written down on it in a hurry.

"Woah, you actually did it? Oh, is that why you crashed against Dan at the end?" Bryan started laughing. He knew their plan and he was right there, in front of her, yet he didn't even notice her execute it all so flawlessly.

The plan had been for Bryan to distract Dan, while Angie pretends to need money as she grabs Dan's phone. A couple of minutes later, Angie would walk back in to give Bryan his money back and she'd slip Dan's phone back in his pocket. Simple and easy.

"Well, that idiot was leaning against the wall and I couldn't get to his back pocket, to put his phone back from where I took it. So I had to get creative. Plus, he already thinks I'm a clumsy airhead, so it all played out just fine." She smiled, now completely happy as she was being served her healthy lunch, with a complementary orange juice, since the waitress and her had once discussed hair accessories and thus, had become friends.

"Five?" He looked at the paper.

"Yes, all the Amandas in his phone directory." She shrugged.

"Give me your phone." She asked him and he obliged, knowing that she was perfectly capable of stealing it from his pocket if he didn't give it to her willingly.

She dialed the first number on the list and waited for someone to pick up, while she cut her food in pieces.

"Hello?" A female voice replied.

"Nope." Angie said, hanging up and then dialing the next number. This voice was way too high-pitched to be Amanda's.

"Amanda Xavier, hello?" The second female answered the phone and her voice was way more mature than the Amanda that Angie needed.

"Sorry, Mrs. Xavier. I think I have the wrong number." Angie said politely, having the feeling that this woman was important, since she introduced herself like that on the phone.

She dialed the third number.

"Yes?" The next Amanda on the list replied, but she was no match either.

"Hello, we are calling you from the National Institute for Research. Would you mind answering a few questions to help us with our database?" Angie said, using some weird accent that Bryan had never heard of.

The woman hung up halfway along the way.

"Okay, two more to go." Angie crossed out the first three numbers and dialed the fourth one.

"This is Amanda, I cannot get to the phone right now. Please leave a message. Thank you." Angie got sent to voicemail and she did the thing that pretty much anyone would do in such case – she hung up.

"Alright, this better be it!" Angie said while dialing the last number on the list, by this point completely forgetting about the food that was going cold already.

"Congratulations." The female voice that picked up the phone, spoke softly.

"Just so you know, you need to find yourself a new roommate to torture." Angie smirked, replying to her.

"Moving on, so soon?" The person on the other side of the line laughed and Angie then put her on loudspeaker.

"I never really liked you anyway." Angie teased.

"Oh yeah? Is that why you two have been obsessing over my case for the past two weeks now?" The voice laughed again.

"Shit, that's our Amanda!" Bryan gasped, now hearing the voice, the confirmation to their conspiracy theory.

"Hello there, Bry-Bry." Amanda greeted, teasing him with the annoying nickname Angie had come up with.

"I'm both glad that you're alive…and kind of not." He said jokingly.

"Don't worry. I won't be coming back to the Academy. You can have my bed." Amanda laughed, but there was something way softer about her voice now. She wasn't like the rude Amanda from three weeks ago.

"Oh, you're wrong, sweetie." Angie was only just starting to play the game. "We need you to flaunt that pretty face of yours, one more time, tomorrow morning. You're our Criminology case project!"

"I would be offended if I wasn't." Amanda smirked on the other side of the line.

"So, you knew it was all a test?" Angie asked, but Amanda had to cut the call short.

"You don't even know half of it yet, Trainee Hunter!" Amanda said and it felt like she was belittling her. As if she were a Superior. But Angie was used to her nasty remarks, in fact, she missed them.

"Just be in the auditorium tomorrow at 1:30. Bryan and I are the last slot for presenting, before lunch break. We'll text you when to enter. Oh and wear something dazzling, okay? Let them drool." Angie added before Amanda sighed and hung up.

"Wow…I mean, wow." Bryan commented.

"I know. I'm glad we were right, but moreover, I'm glad she's alive." Angie then turned her attention to her food, as they didn't have too much time left before their next class.

"It's almost time for the afternoon class." Bryan pointed out while finishing his food.

Angie hurried to finish her own before they headed off to class, making plans to prepare an amazing presentation once they got back to the dorm in the evening. Now that they had Amanda on their side, they would surely be the sweet desert, at the end of the class tomorrow.

* * *

"I got the frisbee!" Matt announced happily. He had stolen one of his kids' toys to play with, since they were now out on the open, at some rural area just outside of town, surrounded by just green and more green.

It was relaxing, yet a bit depressing. Too much of the same thing – just grass.

Emily trusted that each person from her team would bring something to make this a little more fun.

And she was not wrong.

"I have an inflatable beach ball." JJ announced as soon as she got out of her car and joined everyone else.

However, trying to inflate it, she realized why Henry hadn't expressed any desire to play with it lately – it had a hole on it and the kid had tried really hard to keep that fact from his parents, as they had only bought this ball just recently.

"Yup, never mind that." JJ frowned, tossing it to the side and hurrying to welcome Garcia, who was now getting out of Tara's car.

If someone knew how to spice things up, it was surely Garcia.

"I know, I know…" Garcia started off while Tara was opening the trunk. "But I knew we were going someplace boring and I couldn't help it, okay?"

"Garcia!" Emily walked over and started laughing instantly.

"She forced me to load it all in." Tara threw her hands in the air while Emily helped Garcia grab a few of the hundreds of little bags of props and colorful things, out of the car trunk.

"This is our last day with the chocolate love of my life and I refuse to let him go before we have a family photo session, all of us, together. Like we used to do, before…" Garcia frowned, because she was inevitably pointing to the fact that Morgan had left and it had changed a lot of things and dynamics within the team.

"Oh, goggles are mine!" Matt grabbed the first object he saw and he put it on his face, looking absolutely ridiculous.

He had an appreciation for water, swimming and all things water-related. So, goggles were fine with him, even if they were in the shape of huge purple flamingos.

"Yeah, screw it." Emily threw her hands in the air, not wanting to be a prude. If the whole team would make complete fools out of themselves and also pose for pictures, thus providing future bribing material for anyone whose hands may lay on those pictures, then so would she.

"Femme Fatale is _my_ look and dare nobody touch this…thing." She cringed, realizing it was not a costume, but a robe with devil horns as hair accessory, to accompany it. And fishnet gloves which Tara would later on bribe Emily into putting on.

"I wanna be an astronaut. Got anything for me, Garcia?" Luke asked, going through the bags, but not finding anything he could really use.

"With _that_ face, Newbie…I doubt you have the brain to be one." Garcia teased.

She had grown to like Luke, yet she still called him Newbie. They had their own little fun talk, but it wasn't like with Morgan. Nothing and nobody would ever come close to Morgan.

"Here, stop pouting. You look like you're five." Reid jumped at yet another chance to humiliate Luke in public. He had just found something astronaut-like in one of Garcia's bags and he tossed it at Luke.

"Cheerleader? Me? Really!?" JJ raised an eyebrow.

She was stunned at Emily's suggestion, who was now handing JJ a set of obnoxious pink pompoms and a huge hair bow.

"Shut up and take one for the team, will ya?" Emily laughed, still holding the objects in front of JJ who took them less than willingly.

"I played football in school. I hated cheerleaders. Ugh!" JJ groaned, but inevitably gave up.

"NASCAR driver, yes baby!" Tara had found her true calling and she was now holding onto that costume and a fake steering wheel, for dear life.

"Ok, that only leaves Reid and Rossi…" Garcia smiled.

"And you! You don't have any props yet." Reid pointed out, looking at Garcia.

"Oh, Genius one, I'm wonderful enough to be able to bless your photos with rays of sunshine, just the way I am." Garcia smirked and she sounded somewhat like Angela, when she was dramatizing and making fun of things and situations. Garcia would really love this girl, if she ever got the chance to meet her properly.

"What about Morgan?" Emily realized that he wasn't holding anything in his hands yet, either.

"I chose to leave him for dessert!" Garcia winked at Emily, clearly having a carefully thought-out plan for this one.

"Oh, I _so_ got you back now, Reid!" Luke smirked, creeping over to where Reid was standing and plopping a huge blonde wig on his head.

"Oh my God! This looks awesome! Reid, you look like you came out of a two-page editorial spread in some fashion magazine!" Garcia said happily. It really did look good on Reid, with his model-like facial features.

"Yeah, if it were about drag queens." Luke kept on laughing.

"Shut up, you're just jealous you can't pull it off." Reid smirked and decided to embrace his fate.

He hated being turned into a woman, but he wouldn't give Luke the satisfaction of seeing him frown. Plus, most of them looked absolutely ridiculous in their outfits anyway, apart from Tara who looked like a total bad ass.

"A little lipstick…aha…" Garcia said while already applying something pink and sticky to Reid's lips.

"Part the hair sideways…juuust like that. Yeah, work it!" JJ joined in, messing with Reid's wig.

"Don't make _me_ be the one to force him to _put…that_ on!" Emily cringed, holding a corset that Garcia had handed her seconds ago.

"Oh, come on. Don't play the _'I'm the Boss'_ card again, Prentiss. We all know you like it freaky!" Tara nudged Emily.

Everyone had seen her loosen up last night and everyone kind of loved her that way.

"I don't like it 'freaky', whatever you might mean by that." Emily faked offense.

"I have video proof from last night. And so does Matt!" Luke smirked and received a nudge from Matt.

"Dude, I have four kids and a wife to feed back home. Don't you get me fired on my day off!" Matt laughed.

Everyone liked to tease Emily about being the Boss. It was weird. She was their best friend, nobody really saw her as a Superior figure, not in the traditional sense of the word anyway. Yes, they followed her rules and orders, but she was just Emily, off the field. And she most definitely was freaky.

"Girl, you called dibs on that sexy costume the second you laid eyes on it. I'm just saying…" JJ teased, in regards to that freaky comment from earlier.

"Hey Prentiss?" Morgan called out. "Got a whip?" He added with a smirk and dodged the hat that Emily had instantly thrown at him.

"What? It's just a costume. Jesus!" Emily blushed.

Looking around she realized she was the only to have gone dark. Everyone else looked like dorks.

"Living out your sixteen year old self's fantasies, Prentiss?" Morgan teased her, but the sudden look of pain in her eyes made him regret uttering those words.

Morgan may not have been active on the field for a couple of years, but the profiler in him had never stopped working - analyzing people, behavior, words. And Emily's reaction to his words worried him.

"Oh yes, a millionaire…what is that…is that the Playboy logo? Garcia!?" Rossi knew Emily better than anyone else. Plus, she had already shared some very disturbing information about her fifteen year old self, so he jumped at the chance to change the subject, by picking out the next thing from the bag, closest to him.

And he was scandalized. It was a bunch of fake money and a soft white jacket, but he didn't really get the idea behind that costume until he saw the hot pink bunny logo on it.

"Wait, BunBun goes with that costume!" Garcia called out, throwing a pink bunny stuffed toy at him.

"Great. Krystal better not divorce me over this. Again." Rossi rolled his eyes.

"Now, you, my irresistible chocolate temptation…" Garcia licked her lips, turning slowly to face Morgan.

"This…off!" She commanded, pointing at his shirt.

"Na-ah!" Her pointy finger pressed against his lips, just as he was about to open his mouth and protest.

"Good Lord, be gracious and bless my soul…" Rossi dramatized. Being of Italian heritage he was known to say a little prayer every now and then, but especially during turbulence, which was kind of almost as uncomfortable as the situation, unraveling in front of everyone's eyes at that moment.

"Aaa'ight, BabyGirl." Morgan obliged. Everyone had seen him shirtless, it wasn't a big deal…until he actually took it off.

"Jesus…" Emily was the first one to be vocal about it, which was something she'd regret later on.

"Ok, no. I'm married…" JJ looked away, feeling uncomfortable.

"Screw it, I'm not!" Tara's eyes were more than happy to wander around.

"I'm dead…" Garcia gasped for air.

Apparently, Morgan had been working out a lot lately. The amazing body that everyone remembered him having, was now twice as well built. Everything was perfectly in place and the only thing that could make him look more Godly was…

"You're not entering _my_ car!" Emily stated first, now that Garcia was pouring some oil-like substance all over Morgan's abs.

"Jealous much?" Reid smirked in Luke's face.

So far, Luke and Matt were the BAU hunks. That, at least for as long as that Saturday lasted, had just changed.

"Bro, a little extra weight lifting tomorrow?" Matt whispered to Luke who was now giving Reid an icy cold stare.

"Bro…yeah!" Luke replied to Matt, wondering exactly how many hours of sweat Morgan had left behind, at the gym.

Garcia only stopped when the tiny bottle was empty. She then grabbed a hat and a pair of suspenders, handing them to Morgan.

"Oh, I see, Sexy Fireman. I'm diggin' it, BabyGirl!" Morgan finally understood what his costume really was.

"Now, who wants a photo with _that_?" Garcia grinned, pointing at Morgan's chest and abs.

Emily jumped up and handed Garcia a ten dollar bill, just for the laugh.

"Bitch, take a number!" Emily hissed at Tara who was trying to cut in front of her. Clearly it was said in a joking manner.

"Come here, Hot Stuff!" Morgan grinned and threw himself against Emily, embracing her while she kept repeating 'Ewww' silently. Her entire costume, body and hair were now covered in oil.

"Oh, what the heck." Emily sighed and allowed herself to stop thinking about the consequences. She could clean her car seats on Sunday. She didn't mind being all oiled up, in Morgan's hands at that moment.

"My wonderful Princess." He said proudly, kissing the top of her head.

She was just as tiny as he remembered. Yet, she was different. Her hair was now a tiny bit lighter, just a shade, but he had caught that instantly, the second he had laid his eyes on her, days ago, at that hallway. She had also changed her signature perfume yet again. And he couldn't help but notice she was more reserved, less fun, she didn't smile as much and her wonderful dorky sense of humor was safely tucked away in storage, leaving him to wonder if she'd ever unlock it once again.

"God, I miss you, Emily." He whispered when she hugged him back, as everyone was snapping photos of them on their phones and Garcia was armed with a Polaroid camera.

"Same…" Emily whispered back. She had a lot to say on that topic, but Morgan had begged everyone to respect his choice to leave, years ago, and she had no right to tell him exactly how she felt about it now, years later.

"Morgan…" Despite knowing how selfish she'd be to say it, she still needed to. It was eating her up on the inside.

"Shh." He said silently while posing for another photo. "I know, Princess…I know." He added, his right hand trailing up and down Emily's arm.

She gathered all the strength she had in her, forcing herself to smile, when she really wanted to cry – right then and right there, in his arms. He made her feel comfortable. He made her feel safe. And Goddamn, he reminded her of someone else who made her feel all that, plus other beautiful things.

"Prentiss, we know you're dying in there, but try to look a bit more alive, would you?" Luke teased her, giving her a reason to laugh, so in at least one of the photos it wouldn't be too damn obvious how much she hated the fact that this could possibly be the last photo she'd ever take, with Derek.

"Hey, I was next!" Tara frowned when Garcia pushed Emily out of the way and cozied up with Derek for her own photosession time, a minute later.

A couple of groups formed up and everyone was snapping photos of just about anything and everything around them. Luke had played some Reggaeton music, connecting his phone to the loudspeakers he had brought to this improvised outdoors 'party' and everyone was having a good time. Rossi had brought a few wine bottles that had weirdly been a few too many, since the last time the team had been over to his house for dinner.

"Guys…" Emily muttered nostalgically, her lip quivering a bit.

Everyone gathered for a group hug and it didn't matter how oily or sweaty the person next to them was – they hugged each other like it would be the last time.

"Thank you for being the best family I could ever wish for." Emily added, feeling oddly emotional.

"And thank _you_, Morgan, for being here for your second family, when we needed you the most." She looked at him, soaking in every image of him, in her mind.

"This feels like a Goodbye and I don't like goodbyes. More wine, please!" Garcia insisted, handing her glass to Rossi who obliged without objections.

They had taken three cars, to get there, so only three of them had to be sober anyway. The others were glad to soak their bitter feelings about Morgan's inevitable departure, in alcohol. Good, pricy alcohol, at that.

The next step to the party was an attempt at a group photo. They put a phone on top of Emily's car and set the timer, but with each photo that got snapped, someone stated that they had their eyes closed, or that they weren't ready yet, so at the end of the day, the total number of photos collected from everyone's phone amounted to 357. And they were all beautiful, even the blurry ones. They were perfect, just like the team.


	53. I Am Exactly Where I Want To Be

**CHAPTER 53**

_**I AM EXACTLY WHERE I WANT TO BE**_

"I promise you'll regret it if you dare get me out of bed before the clock ticks another hour or so!" Bryan muttered unhappily, hearing Angie get up at 5:30 am on Sunday.

"Oh, no. It's fine. Don't worry. Get some good sleep." She said sweetly.

"I'm just going to be very quiet in here, you know, trying to make sure at least _I_ make a banging good impression during our team presentation today." She then added cheerfully, but passive aggressive was in there, too.

Bryan tried to close his eyes, but eventually gave up and stuck one foot out of the bed.

"Damn, I'm letting a cheerleader guilt-trick me into getting up early! Ugh! Who the Hell have I become?" He muttered to himself on the way to the bathroom.

When they both got ready for PFT, they had some spare time to go over the presentation that they had come up with the previous evening. Bryan noticed some changes, so clearly Angie had stayed up late, in order to finalize the presentation and to give it a nice touch of style. And color.

"Since when are our headers pink?" He cringed.

"Since you willingly partnered up with me, big boy." She smirked and saved the presentation to a USB key, placing it in her bag for later use that day.

PFT was strange. Once again, they noticed that a few of their teachers were hanging out and talking to Dan, while checking everyone's progress and asking questions to their PFT trainer.

Both Angie and Bryan had a hunch as to why that might be, but none of them wanted to jinx the day by saying it out loud. Instead, they gave their best performance and hoped it would be enough.

After changing into their Academy uniforms, they walked to the Auditorium, finding it half-empty, compared to every other day so far.

Dan informed them that the rest of the Trainees had received a different assignment and were now working on it instead, so that gave them more time to fully explain their own cases during class.

Angie asked to go last and her wish was granted.

She sat back, listening to everyone's case summary and some of them were really interesting. Pretty much everyone had chosen a cold case that had never been closed and were now analyzing the evidence with fresh eyes. Some had pretty good ideas and suggestions as to what could have been done to continue the investigation and Dan seemed to be impressed. So did their Criminology teacher.

"Angela and Bryan, please?" The teacher announced at the end of the class, giving them a total of 30 minutes to talk.

As they took over the podium, they looked sure of themselves and acted professional. Angie did not act funny, she did not comment on things that were not connected to their investigation and she did not smile like she usually did. Dan found that to be quite impressive, given the fact that every single time he had been around her, she had been an accurate representation of the Energizer Bunny, like Bryan sometimes liked to call her. She was now still full of life, but she had toned it down majorly, showing everyone that she could walk in the shoes of an Agent without being considered weird or funny.

They started off slowly, building up their case, giving all the information one would need, in chronological order, and presenting it from both their point of view, as witnesses, and also from the point of view of investigators.

Facts got laid out and the timeline was being developed from scratch, as they drew it on the white board and kept adding pieces to it as their story unraveled.

Dan did not seem surprised that _this_ was their case of choice. He would have been pissed if it weren't. He did, however, seem quite impressed with the way they were handling everything and putting the pieces together.

He was well aware of their little investigation. Their DNA testing teacher had been instructed to sabotage their experiments and to confuse them as much as he could, which was why he had pulled Robert out of their study group. And yet, they had managed to obtain the results and were now explaining everything to people, in a way that it would be clear, but also, using the right criminology terms, which showed that they had been catching up on their reading.

"You only have two more minutes left. Can you, please, briefly tell us the outcome of your investigation?" The Criminology teacher asked as his chronometer was ticking, in his hand.

"Yes, Sir. We can tell you…" Bryan started off.

"But we would rather _show_ you." Angie ended his line.

"Also, we are sorry to disobey the 'No Phones In Class' rule, but this is very much needed right now." She added before sending a text from Bryan's phone.

The main door of the Auditorium opened and a human figure started walking towards the podium.

Female. Young. Mid-height. Not wearing a uniform like theirs.

"What the-…" Dan was shocked. He had known that they had figured out this girl was alive and well, but he would have never guessed that they would be able to actually _find_ her.

"Hey guys!" Amanda waved at everyone, now standing between Angie and Bryan.

People gasped. Some of them were skeptical about Angie and Bryan's presentation, as it all seemed way too detailed of a scheme, to be true. They believed there had been an actual incident at the end of the first week of the Academy, and that the incident had been covered up by their training Agents, to not draw negative attention to the Academy. But, now, having the girl stand in front of them made them feel stupid and a little guilty, for not having doubted the validity of the facts they had been told when it had all happened.

"I…" Dan started off, but he could not think of a single negative thing to say to them. His scheme, his plan to be a jerk, had to go on for a little longer, but he just could not go through with it at that moment.

"Congratulations. This was a job exceptionally well done, guys." He then caved in and finally gave them that long-awaited compliment.

The Criminology teacher pointed out a few things about their investigations – some weak points and some things they could have done differently, to save time. Other than that, he had eagerly complimented them as well.

Amanda sat down next to them, as a student, and waited for the final words before the class got dismissed.

"Lunch is on me!" Angie announced as they were walking out of the building, after class.

"I actually can't stay…" Amanda shrugged, noticing how Dan was staring at her from distance.

"It was not a proposition." Angie grabbed Amanda's hand and started walking to her favorite healthy food place.

"Gotta say, guys, I thought it would feel better…" Angie commented right after they placed their order.

"What?" Amanda asked, feeling a bit out of the loop.

"Finally getting a compliment." Angie specified. "I guess after all the negative things I've heard recently, I've created this expectation in my head that getting a compliment would make me feel more powerful, you know, maybe even more motivated. But honestly, it didn't. It just felt random. I don't know. Maybe I've fantasized about that moment way too much, so when it came it was kind of underwhelming. Oh well. I guess I don't need a compliment to be motivated after all. Good to know."

"God, I've missed your bubbliness." Amanda rolled her eyes, but something about her was much softer than what Angie remembered. As if it was a completely different person, standing next to her right now.

"I've missed your snarky remarks. Just, maybe not early in the mornings. Although, I have Bryan now to kick out of bed on a daily basis, so in a way it feels like you were never really gone." Angie laughed, now back to her cheerful personality.

They spent the next 45 minutes chatting about all the things they had done in the Academy while Amanda was away.

"Don't worry. We'll make sure you catch up with everything. We made friends with a lot of cool people who can tutor you in the different study subjects, so you can get back to being one of the most awesome Trainees in the Academy! Obviously, we will tutor you as well. Don't stress about it, we won't abandon you!" Angie said softly.

"Guys, you've been nothing but nice to me since we met. Uh, there is something I need to tell you-…" Amanda got cut off by her phone buzzing.

She read a message and then looked up apologetically.

"I'm sorry, but I really need to go now." Amanda stated, already standing up. "Thank you so much for working on my case. Mostly – thank you for not giving up on me, guys! That's what makes Trainees stand out in the Academy, that's what would make both of you amazing Agents in the future. Just remember that, both of you, are insanely gifted, in different ways, so don't let anyone ever bring you down. Stick together and keep doing what you're doing. I'm sure your supervisors and teachers would appreciate all of your hard work and efforts. Thank you so much, again. And good luck!" She said before leaving the little restaurant.

"Is it just me or did that sound like another Goodbye?" Bryan raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"It sounded more like the ending of one chapter and the beginning of the next one." Angie watched Amanda walk off towards the outside training area.

* * *

Morgan was now waiting to board his plane. It was a bit chilly and he should have been super excited to go back home and spend the day at the beach, with his wife and son.

But he wasn't.

"Weekend's done, going back to work. Sucks, huh?" Some guy, sitting next to him in the waiting area, commented.

Those random words from a complete stranger made Morgan sigh.

"Actually, it's kind of the other way around…" He said before unblocking his phone and starting to type a message to his wife.

He found himself typing something extra-long, but then realized how lame it was, so he deleted it all and started over. And then he did that about five more times, each time unable to hit the Send button.

This whole week had messed with his head. He had tried getting something he wanted and failed more times than he could count. Then he had realized it was stupid, so the moment he dropped his efforts, said thing had been given to him, out of the blue. And then he had developed a major case of cold feet, so he had opted for an escape. But then, he had found himself torn. No matter what he did, he wanted two completely different things and he could not think of a way to get one of them and be able to enjoy it fully, without thinking about the other.

He kept typing and deleting and, to his surprise, his wife sent him a photo.

It was a document, with their names on it and their child's name on it as well. She had signed it already, all that was missing was his signature.

He dialed her number immediately.

"You knew…" His voice was soft, a little apologetic.

"Baby, I knew since the moment you showed me Garcia's e-mail." Her voice was something he had missed. "I married a profiler, remember?"

"So, where are we at now?" He asked, falling even more in love with her after that last statement of hers.

"Well, it's a great pre-school. I've spoken to the Director and to the nice young lady who would be teaching our son. They have both agreed on the transfer. The only thing missing is your signature." She spoke so calmly, as if this huge change in their life did not bother her even a tiny little bit. Which, it did not.

"But…don't you want to discuss it?" He sighed once again.

"Nope. That would only give you the chance to make yet another bad decision." She smirked.

"So…" He trailed off, listening to the announcement for his plane boarding. The gate was now open.

"So, don't you dare step foot on that plane. Go back and be with the people who need you in their lives." She giggled.

"What about the people I need in my life?" There was this feeling in his stomach, that he had to lose one of his wishes, in order to get the other one.

"They have plane tickets for tomorrow morning. Don't you worry about a thing. I've packed all of our stuff this week and I've already shipped the boxes to Rossi's house. And yes, I spoke to Krystal about it. She said she can keep them in storage until we find a place to live in and settle down. Also, I have already switched back to our doctor and to his original pediatrician. And I've made a mani-pedi reservation for Tuesday morning, so don't you dare back off now!" She kept on chuckling and she spoke with such ease.

"Woman, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me in my whole entire life and I will love and protect you forever!" He said, right before whispering a few other adult-related things to her.

"Sir, boarding is almost complete. Please, hurry." An airport employee urged him, as he was standing in front of the gate.

"Oh, no. I am exactly where I want to be!" Morgan said with a smirk and he walked out of the airport, hailing himself one of those expensive cabs, the ones that he hated so much. But no price could be put on his happiness. And nothing could stand between him and his two wishes.

At that moment, he realized that a man can get just about anything in life, as long as he had the right woman standing next to him. Even if she was physically on another continent.

* * *

"Tu ne manges plus…"

A sigh followed.

"Tu ne souris plus…"

Yet another sigh, but no reply.

"Tu ne me parles plus et tu ne ressembles plus à toi…"

This time, he shrugged.

Yes, he knew that he wasn't eating or smiling anymore. Yes, he had not been talking to Victor anymore and yes, he didn't seem like himself anymore.

He knew that.

But there was nothing he could do about it.

"Not to mention you walk off on your own, for hours. What do you even do? Where do you go?" Victor kept on asking.

Richard did not utter a word. It was none of his business anyway.

"Look, I've seen you drift off into this state…and it wasn't good. You begged me to leave you alone then and I regret ever listening to you, man. So now I'm going to be a pain in your ass and I'm going to haunt you, stalk you, put a security detail at your house, just to make sure you're alright. Do you hear me?"

Richard pretended to be extremely busy, reading a piece of paper over and over again.

Victor lost it and it was now _his_ turn to get physical against Richard's desk. His fist hit hard against it before he grabbed the piece of paper, shredding it to pieces and throwing it in the air, letting it fall on top of them in a very dramatic way that Angela would have surely enjoyed. She was a sucker for a good drama scene.

"This was important!" Richard finally spoke, but not about himself. No. He'd ignore his own existence, his well-being and his sanity and he'd only ever care when it came to work. Much like a certain Emily Prentiss.

"_You_ are important! Okay? You!" Victor was a tough guy. He oozed a certain hunger for respect and, with his job, he _had_ to. And so did Richard, but not lately.

"You are my family, man. What are you doing with your life? Where are you hiding lately? Why are you pushing me out of your life?" Victor continued, this time a little more softly.

"I'm just minding my own business." Richard said silently.

"Doing stupid stuff? No, man, I'm not letting you go down. You've worked your ass off for this. And yeah, you're the highest position around here, but you are not invincible. There's the Government, may I remind you. There's the Police. There's so many organizations and people who are just waiting for you to screw up, so they could put an end to you and to your career. Let's not give them this satisfaction, huh?"

"I'm fine. I really don't enjoy you barging into my office every couple of days and asking me to explain myself. I'm a grown ass man and I can make decisions about my own life, okay?" Richard tried to get through to Victor, because he was really sick of all these talks.

"Oh yeah? Well, you were a grown up man back then, too. May I remind you how _that_ turned out for you?" Victor raised an eyebrow.

Each time he brought up the past, Richard remained silent as a mouse. It was a low blow, but he needed to be hit with it. He deserved it. It was the only thing that could help him realize his mistakes and make sure he'd never make them again.

"I don't know what to tell you, okay? Yes, I'm not being myself. But what if I don't want to be myself anymore? What's the point? I can go back to…you know, how I was before. What I did before. I could use some change…"

"Like Hell no, you're not going back to _that_!" Victor winced, just thinking about it.

Richard was a Daredevil. He was known for his risky stunts and, so far, he'd always been lucky. But Victor knew that one day, his cockiness would catch up with him. He really was _not_ invincible.

"There are seven billion people in the world…" Victor tried to give him the '_she's not the only woman'_ speech yet one more time.

"And yet, you chose _me_ to be your best friend!" Richard countered.

If it was true, if there were so many people, then why do we always feel connected to certain ones? Why would they matter so much? Wasn't it mathematically possible to find seven billion other substitutes?

"But she left, Richard. And she's a grown up. She made a choice. You have to respect that." Victor sighed, his voice now much more calm and soothing.

"She only left, because she knows none of it…" Richard gulped, his eyes drifting off in the distance, as if he was playing an imaginary film in front of his eyes.

"And do you really think she would have stayed, if she knew the truth?" Victor challenged, because it really always came back to the truth, whatever that was.

"The truth, no. She would have ran. She would have left, without ever looking back." Richard sighed. The truth was a very ugly one. He wouldn't blame her, whatever her reaction would be.

"_My_ truth?" He said, emphasizing on the fact that _the_ truth and _his_ truth, the one he saw with his own eyes and felt with his own heart, were two very different concepts. "Yes. She would have stayed. I have no doubt about it. About _her_. It's always been her…"

Victor analyzed those words for a long moment, coming to the realization that Richard was absolutely right. Any woman who would understand Richard's truth, was a woman worth fighting for. At that moment, Victor decided to drop his annoying pleas for his best friend to move on, and to do something else instead.

"Fine. You win. I'm on your side." He shrugged uncomfortably. "Now, can I do something to track her down for you? Whatever you are doing during your lunch break, can you please stop? Can I, please, help you out?"

"No. Nothing can be done…" Richard was visibly sad and it pained Victor to see him like that.

"You sure don't believe that..." Victor raised an eyebrow challengingly. He was good at digging up information about anyone and anything. And so was Richard.

"No, Vic. No more lies, no more plotting and scheming. If I ever hear from her again, I want to know that it was her decision to call me back, not our master plot to get her attention. That's not what I want from her."

"Oh, mon Dieu, you are _so_ into that woman…" Victor pointed out.

"You have no idea, man."

"On the contrary. I know it all. And I know _you_, man. You deserve to be happy. And I just hope she deserves to be with someone as amazing as you."

"She deserves the world." Richard smiled finally. "Also, I spend my lunch breaks at a place I went to, with her. And no, I'm not doing drugs or anything stupid. You know me."

"Good. Now can we go back to trying to figure out that mess of a proposal we just received in the office this morning? We have to sign it until noon and I haven't even read all of it yet." Victor was now trying to calm down as well. Worrying for Richard was something he'd never stop doing, but he also trusted his best friend and if he said he wasn't doing anything stupid, this was a fact, for Victor. No further doubt, no need for more questions. Richard was not a liar.

"We could…" Richard started laughing all of a sudden. "But you, dumbass, shredded the document to pieces!"

"Oh, shit." Victor became pale.

They only had one copy of that document and he had destroyed it earlier during his hissy fit. Needless to say, it was a very important piece of paper.

"Don't worry. I skimmed over it and, yeah, it was a good proposal, but it would have taken too long. And I'm not a patient person. So, I'll e-mail them and decline politely." Richard didn't seem to be upset about it. "And I might have a little plan in my mind, for something that would give us twice the results, in much less time. Yes, it's risky and yes, it involves me getting involved…"

"Getting involved?" Victor questioned.

"It's a one week deal. I'll be in and out of there before you knew it. And I'm going to need someone I trust, to back me up on this. So, what do you say…will you be able to handle that?" Richard smirked and as much as Victor didn't want to give him the satisfaction of letting him do something so stupid and risky, he also could not deny him, not when Richard was finally showing interest in something, after his Lauren drama.

"Oh, I can handle it, alright." Victor accepted the challenge.

"Alright, so here's what I'm thinking…" Richard then poured a carefully detailed plan and Victor realized this was not a spur of the moment thing. This was something Richard had been working on, for days. No wonder he had seemed odd and distracted.

"Just don't get yourself killed again, alright?" Victor frowned at the end of the briefing. It was way too dangerous, but Richard was going to do it, with or without him.

"I can only promise you to try." Richard smirked, trying to be a smart ass about it, but he met Victor's disapproving glare.

Victor hated it when Richard spoke about death.

"Also, just in case, can you maybe try to not attend at least _this_ funeral with those atrocious sunglasses? God, you look like one of those undercover special agents in the movies. So dramatic. You always steal my thunder and it's supposed to be _my_ day, well, even if it's the last one." Richard laughed out loud, but Victor's facial features tensed all that more.

"Stop saying things like that!" He asked, almost begging.

The ease with which Richard always spoke about death was confusing to Victor. A few times he had been _this_ close to breaking into Richard's therapist's office and stealing his file, just to figure out what the Hell was in this man's mind and why did he speak, act and sound like the Devil, whenever he pleased.

Richard had this character trait that he would be one person constantly, but then suddenly, as if he flipped a switch, he would turn into someone who had absolutely nothing to do with Victor's best friend. It was hardly a bad trait, given the job they had, but Victor had been creeped out by Richard's icy cold stare on numerous occasions. One thing was sure – he never wanted to cross Richard.

* * *

Emily sighed, walking into her apartment on her own, for the first time in a week now. She had gotten used to giggling with Morgan, letting him open the door for her and then pretending to be upset about the fact that he'd thrown his jeans over the couch before going in for a shower.

The truth was – he had only been gone for a few hours, but she missed him already. One week was not enough. If she had to be honest – a lifetime with him would hardly be enough.

And then she inevitably drew a parallel to another moment in her life, just recently. It had been exactly this much time – a week, with someone she felt exactly this way about – a lifetime by his side would barely satisfy her needs.

She kicked her shoes off and tried to watch some TV. Everything was stupid. Uninteresting. Non stimulating. Boring. Unintelligent.

Emily Prentiss did not need something random, such as a TV show or a movie re-run. No. she needed something stimulating, someone to have a conversation with, someone that could make seven whole days feel like both a second and a lifetime. Someone who would challenge her intellectually and someone who would, borderline, do other amazing things to her.

And then she realized she was no longer thinking of Morgan, despite the fact that he had just recently been naked and oiled up, courtesy of Garcia, holding her close and kissing her head. No. He was a _friend_ and no matter where in the world he'd go, she'd always have him. Yes, she'd love to have him close, but the pain could not compare…

There was someone else she could not stop thinking about.

Her hand reached underneath the sofa cushion and she grabbed the letter, reading it carefully, twice. Tears instantly rolled down her cheeks and it still hurt, like it had hurt her the first time she had read it.

_"__I don't want to fall in love with Lauren Reynolds…"_

She sighed, reading his closing line. Oh, he had absolutely no idea.

Would he like her if he knew the truth? If he knew that she had lied and she had tried to pretend like she was someone else? Would he hate her for it?

Or would he give her the chance to explain that, despite her best attempts, for those seven days she had spent with him, she had given him Emily Prentiss – pure, real, unfiltered, one hundred percent Emily and _only_ Emily Prentiss.

The profiler in her came to the conclusion that he would have hated her if he knew the truth.

But then, he would have maybe let himself fall in love with her, if he knew _her_ truth – her reasons behind it all.

Because, as little as she knew about him, she was sure, deep down in her heart, that Richard was a good man. And despite that nagging gut feeling that was giving her nausea each time it resurfaced, she knew that if he had stayed, she would have gone against all of her reservations, beliefs, morals, she would have torn down those walls of steel that she had built around her for the years after her fifteenth birthday, and she would have given him a chance. A real chance. The chance she knew he deserved.

And yet – he had left.

Her right hand swept one more tear from her chin before she hid the letter again. There was a very unpleasant pain in the left side of her chest now and she knew it wasn't going to go away. How did she know? Well, that pain never really went away, since the first time she had read his letter. She had suppressed it, she had learned how to live with it and how to function like herself again, but it did not mean that the pain was gone. If anything – she felt it more and more, with each day that came.

"And your dumb ass told me it was real!" Emily whispered, mentally directing those words towards her inner voice.

_"__It __is__ real, Emily…"_

She shook her head. Was she going crazy? Or did she just hear the voice again?

"I am not going to be fooled by a man again. I made a promise to myself. Yes, I was going to break it, on a whim, after just a week of knowing someone and yet knowing absolutely nothing about him…" She kept on whispering, unsure if this time she was speaking to the inner voice, or to herself. Either way, it was disturbing and most definitely not normal.

"But he left. And I'm an egoist for taking it so badly, because leaving is _my_ specialty. It's what Lauren did best. And it's what has caused so much pain, to people that I love. So no, I simply cannot believe that this is real…not after the way he ended it. I refuse to be a victim. Not again. I've worked for years, to make my scars heal. And I have made zero progress. I'm not ready for new scars. No, thank you."

She kept on speaking silently. There was something so comforting about the darkness in her living room. She had switched the TV off and she was now on her own, in the dark, just thinking out loud.

When she didn't hear anything in reply, she groaned.

"Don't you dare give me the silent treatment, okay!? I know you disagree with me, but there's nothing I can do about the way I feel." Now stating that she couldn't do anything about the way she felt about being left, Emily raised her voice just a little bit, upset that her inner voice was now having an attitude and letting it show.

She then gave herself a whole minute to analyze her last sentence.

"There's nothing I can do about the way I feel…" She repeated it, this time intending something else.

"Nothing I can do about the way _he_ makes me feel…" She specified, in case her inner voice was dumber than the real Emily Prentiss, or not a profiler at all, and in case it wouldn't be able to catch on that subtle change of context.


	54. Shut Up And Fake A Goddamn Smile

** CHAPTER 54**

_**SHUT UP AND FAKE A GODDAMN SMILE**_

"Damn, I knew it!" Angie sighed when they reached the training space after lunch, realizing that most of their teachers were waiting for them and none of them was wearing training clothes.

Firstly, training twice in one day was pointless. Everyone ran, in their spare time, so it would be stupid to put two trainings together, which was what their Sunday schedule looked like currently.

Secondly, Angie had her suspicions since she saw Amanda leave the restaurant and walk to the field early.

"Well, I guess it was bound to happen." Bryan shrugged.

Dan stood in front of the line of teachers, holding a folder in his hands.

"In case you haven't figure it out yet – Hello, this is potentially your last day here at the Academy." He spoke up.

"Whatever happens – remember we are awesome and we will do amazing things in life. Here or elsewhere!" Bryan said while holding Angie's hand.

"I'd rather do them _here_, than elsewhere. Thank you." She said sarcastically and he let it go. She was clearly under pressure and letting her anger out on him.

"For the past three weeks you have been tested both physically and mentally, both when you knew it and when you didn't." Dan started his speech. "The Academy has the aim to find the best talents, nationwide, and then to form them into the best Agents they could possibly be. Needless to say, not everyone that makes it into the Academy, makes it out. Most of you will fall out by the end of your 21-week training program. That would not mean that you are not valuable, but rather that we do not believe you are up to the Bureau standards just yet. We encourage all of you to keep pursuing a career in criminology, be it criminal justice, forensics, or even just simply joining the police force. We believe that, if you made it into the Academy, there is potential in you. However, we need to cut down to only the best of you. And that process starts now…"

Dan paused, giving them a moment to take it all in.

"Those of you who already know what to do…" Dan pointed to an empty area, to his right, and literally half of the Trainees stepped to fill that void space.

"I would like to thank you for volunteering." Dan said to them.

"Wait, what?" Bryan was confused.

"Trainees…" Dan then looked at the other half, where Angie and Bryan were standing. "You already know those people – they are your roommates. What you don't know, however, is that each one of you had been paired up with an actual working Agent, to test you and challenge you every second of the day and night. So, if you've been slacking lately, sleeping in, leaving your extra reading for later, well, it is _now_ the time to be sorry."

"Oh shit…" Angie bit her bottom lip.

"What are _you_ so worried about? You literally bust your ass 24/7." Bryan whispered to her.

"Oh, I know. I'm worried about everyone else." She said, with her chin held high and her confidence boosting, as usual.

"I have here a final evaluation paper for each one of you, Trainees, signed by all of your teachers and trainers, plus, your roommates." Dan said, holding the folder up.

"Wait…does that mean…?" Angie scanned the crowd and did not find Amanda anywhere.

"Yes, Miss Hunter." Dan nodded in her direction, as he already knew what she meant.

Angie's eyes then fell on Amanda, who was lost in the middle of the crowd of teachers.

"I'm sorry." Amanda mouthed to Angie.

"Amanda graduated top in the Academy, last year. She has since then done some brilliant work undercover and has worked with diverse Units, gaining valuable expertise, one which she would be transferring to you in the classroom, as she is your new Undercover Training Officer, from tomorrow." Dan announced.

Angie's jaw dropped. She hadn't expected that, not even through her suspicions of Amanda being involved in the scheme somehow.

"In fact, she was signed off to a case and we had to hurry our little experiment with the staged crime in the woods. And you were given subconscious suggestions by your various teachers, that would lead you to investigate that mystery. Only two of you did that." Dan pointed at Angie and Bryan. "And having an eye for possible crime staging is a thing that, despite our best efforts, we cannot teach you. It has to be an instinct. We were expecting more of you to have it, but we are glad that at least two of you stepped up their game and closed this case successfully."

"Yeah, I still feel _nothing_ when I'm being complimented." Angie frowned, upset that she wasn't able to enjoy this moment.

"Shut up and fake a Goddamn smile." Bryan nudged her.

Dan looked at the Trainees and they seemed happy that half of the people were now cut and they were still standing in front of Dan. Clearly, they were misreading the situation.

"Now that half of you are removed from the Academy and can go back to your Units and resume your normal jobs…" Dan pointed at the ones who had posed as undercover.

"We can get to the important part." Dan stated, opening his folder.

People gasped, realizing that cuts were just about to start.

Dan called out a few names and they stepped to the front of the line.

"The five of you have been performing way under the Academy standards and we are afraid we no longer have a place for you here." He stated coldly.

He called one more name and a guy stood in front of him, looking guilty.

"You have dared tell your roommate that you find a few of the books stupid and useless. Well, we don't find your presence here useful to us anymore." Dan sounded a bit pissed. "We do not appreciate people diminishing the efforts of our Agents, who have generously offered to be here and to train you, for no reward this year. And yes, budget cuts did not just hit your training supplies, but the whole Bureau altogether, and that includes all of their salaries for the classes they are teaching you. And some of those books they have suggested you to read, are actually written by _them_, after twenty years on the job. So for anyone to say that it is useless to know the things that they are willing to teach you, is a disgrace to the Academy."

Three more people then stood in front of Dan.

"One of you has cut classes without any valid medical reason for it. We now know you were sleeping in and being lazy. Nothing can excuse that behavior. The other one had been taking substances to help them perform better in PFT, which is a vile violation of the Academy rules and leads to immediate suspension. And the third one has failed their psychological evaluation, and also failed to inform us that they had been on heavy medications before the Academy, which makes them non-eligible for training." Dan pointed at each one of them individually.

"And here's my personal favorite – the one who thought they could cheat a polygraph test!" Dan was now looking at a much smaller group of people in front of him and it chilled even him to realize how huge this cut had been.

"This specific person answered more than one question wrong, and thought they could get away with it. But, as you all know, we run background checks on all of our Trainees, so the truth was bound to come out. Now, would you like to step forward or should I say your name out loud?" He challenged the person, because if Dan hated one thing – it was a liar.

Silence followed. A few people shrugged nervously, even though they knew they were not the culprit.

Angie stood still, with her head held high as usual. Not a single muscle on her face moved and her posture did not change. She was as solid as a rock.

And so was Bryan, standing right next to her.

Finally, a guy came forward and Dan just eyed him up and down before the guy silently walked over to the bunch of people who were already cut.

"Alright. Once again – thank you to the Agents who volunteered to supervise these first three weeks. Thank you to all the teachers who do this for free this year. Thank you to the Trainees who remain in the Academy and good luck to you in the following weeks. Now, while I give instructions to the ones who were cut, our teachers have expressed their wish to talk to some of you, so please wait for them to invite you for a discussion group." Dan summed up before he walked over to the less fortunate ones and told them they had to pack their belongings and leave by the end of the day.

Angie got pulled from the group, by different teachers. She found it weird to hear their positive feedback now, since they had given her three weeks of constant judgment and harsh criticism. She still had some negative feedback on things that she absolutely needed to work on if she wanted to survive the Academy, but most of it had been positive.

Bryan got pulled by two people less, compared to Angie, which was still really good. He had amazing feedback on his stamina and performance at PFT, tactical driving and ballistics. SWAT, unfortunately, had no representative that day, so he did not get the chance to hear back from the person who had taught their few lessons by now.

"Still not feeling anything?" He smirked when he re-joined Angie after the roundups were done.

"About compliments?" She eyed him, while in deep thought before answering. "No. Not really. I think the Academy has stripped my soul and now I am unable to feel anything."

He laughed so hard. "I can relate."

"Actually…" Dan's voice came from behind them.

He had just finished his instructions with the people who were cut and was ready to give his remaining Trainees his undivided attention, whether they wanted it or not.

"It's not the time and place for this talk…" Dan continued. "But when you hear everything I have to say to you two, you will definitely feel something."

"You think he'll be pissed if I tell him I don't get his cryptic message?" Angie whispered to Bryan, obviously knowing that Dan would be listening. It was her own way of toying with the guy.

"Miss Hunter, have a little more patience and you will be in the loop." Dan smirked at her. He loved the fact that this girl had the balls to stand up to him whenever she believed necessary.

"In the meantime, will you be drugging me again? Because, I can't say I didn't enjoy losing a few pounds in the process of being unable to hold food down." She laughed, because there was no way she would ever admit how much it sucked running to the bathroom and sitting on the cold tiles, numerous times at night, leaning over the toilet. She wouldn't admit that chalkboard white on her face was not a color that went well with her favorite lipstick. She would not admit a damn thing.

"Also, you should probably be advised that patience is most definitely not a virtue of mine…" She then trailed off. "If I even have any."

"Just keep doing what you two are doing." Dan winked at Angie and walked away. He would be seeing them in the afternoon class anyway.

* * *

"Thank you for helping us out." Morgan said, sipping a cup of tea.

Derek Morgan hated tea. He hated it with passion. Something about the oozing warmth of the drink just irked him, so much. He hated the way it burned his tongue, as he considered it one of his most prized bodily organs, both in his playboy days and in marriage. He also hated the smell of it – the damned thing smelled like grass and he could not figure out why someone would enjoy that smell; the disgusting color of the water, combined with the tiny little particles that inevitably floated in it and tickled his throat when ingested. He hated everything about tea, yet the one thing he hated the most was not being able to pretend like he was enjoying a cup of it, in the beautiful company of his BabyGirl. Seeing her that week had made him realize how much he missed her – even more than he thought. It also made him re-consider a lot of aspects of his life and doubt a decision he took a few years ago. Now that things were slowly starting to move in a direction that he no longer had to convince himself that he liked, but he was rather genuinely excited about, there was just that _one_ little thing standing between him and his happiness. One small thing.

"Anything for family." Kristal replied, sitting on the couch, across from him, enjoying her tea like there was no tomorrow.

He put on a brave face and took another sip, mentally swearing as it tasted like freshly cut grass to him.

"I wanted to ask you a favor…" He started off and she could sense that he was feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"I don't want to put you in a weird situation, so feel free to say No." He added.

"Derek…" She said softly, urging him to just come out and say it.

"Uhm, my team doesn't know about my plans." He smiled, realizing that it was just so natural to call them _his team_. Even if it weren't currently correct and it hadn't been for a long time. It probably was not going to be for a long time to come, too. If ever.

"And I would like to keep it that way. I mean, I'm house searching today and Savannah and the kid are coming over tomorrow evening. But I still have to figure out work and everything. So, until I know that I can surely stay, I would like to keep this on the down low. You know, I don't want to give them any hopes if I cannot guarantee the success of my attempts to…" He trailed off, taking a long moment to formulate an ending to that sentence, one that would make sense.

"Attempts to get your life back? Get back on track?" Krystal suggested and he nodded.

More or less, this was what he had intended to say.

"I don't think you should worry about that. They all love you and would love to have you back. Both Emily and JJ had left already. Just think of how openly you welcomed both of them back when they, inevitably, came back."

"Oh, JJ was _forced_ to leave. We knew we were going to fight for her to come back, eventually." He shrugged.

Suddenly, he felt the need of something burning, taking over his body. He took a large sip of the tea, ignoring the taste of it and concentrating on the sharp pain that his insides were now feeling. He needed it to burn a few memories away, before he could continue speaking.

"As for Emily, that's a whole another story. She left twice. Both times I welcomed her with open hands, wanting nothing more than to wrap my hands around her and to strangle the bitch!" He said, chuckling just a little bit, to mask up the truth behind his words.

Krystal kept quiet. She knew some of what had happened and she never discussed it with anyone, not even her own husband, as it always brought tough memories back.

"Well, you don't have to worry about me. I won't tell Dave about it. I'll store your boxes in the guest room storage space. He wouldn't even notice them. You take your time to figure things out." She said with a smile.

"Seriously, thank you so much." Morgan relaxed back, now that he had confirmation that his secret was safe.

* * *

"Alright…" Dan started off, eyeing the Auditorium before the afternoon class would start.

It felt so weird. Less than half the people were there. He had always known the truth, he knew the faces of the actual Agents, working undercover, but those faces were always mixed around the new faces. And now that they were gone, it sent chills down his spine, seeing only the new faces.

"A couple of communications before we proceed with your class…" He cleared his throat, still looking around and seeing nothing but empty seats. At least those were the ones his eyes naturally fell on.

"First of all, now that we only have actual Trainees left, you are finally getting your name stamped on your uniform. We did not do that for the first three weeks, for obvious reasons." He said.

"Bureau doesn't have the money to waste on a few t-shirts that would go to waste?" Someone said sarcastically.

"No, actually, it does not." Dan looked at him sternly. "It was useless for us to prepare uniforms for Agents who were, initially, only supposed to stay in the Academy for a week."

"So, can we have a spare uniform now? It's getting really hard to keep up with washing the few ones we have." Someone pointed out.

"I am aware of the problem. And yes, each one of you is getting two more spare uniforms. The ones you already have would be stamped on Tuesday, so bring them in the afternoon. And yes, that means Tuesday is a No Uniform day for everyone. Come in dressed as you wish." Dan explained.

"Also, now that you are less than half, you guys know what that means…" He added, waiting for someone to continue his statement.

"That literally every single one of us can have a room to themselves!?" Angie said, hope oozing from her voice.

Dan gave her a look, surprised by the fact that her comments still managed to surprise him.

"No, Miss Hunter." He said through gritted teeth. "As far as accommodations are concerned, each one of you will be assigned a new roommate. We are closing the second dorm building and only using the main one now."

"Well, I'm already taken, so…" She shrugged lightly.

There was no way she was getting a roommate that was anyone other than Bryan, who was already fully moved in anyway.

"What I was trying to say earlier is that you guys being less than half now, only means that you will have more than double the attention on you from now on. And with each cut, you would be under more and more observation by everyone. So, if you slack, if you don't give us your 200%, you bes believe you will be the next one packing. Understood?" Dan scanned the room – some of the Trainees seemed very confident, while others were clearly distressed after his words.

"One last thing…" He continued. "You will be starting to have more practical training, rather than theoretical classes. And no, this does not mean that you can stop studying. What changes is that now we need you to be more independent and study on your own free time. PFT continues on being your absolutely obligatory morning routine and you are kindly asked to exercise through the day, as well. However, your class schedule is about to shift. You no longer have the stability of having one long morning class and one long afternoon class. Your new schedule will make it a little more clear."

Dan picked up a pile of papers and handed them over to the class, for everyone to grab their new schedule, the one with their name on top of it.

"What the-…" Bryan commented as he took a glimpse of the upcoming madness.

"Well, look at it from the bright side – they wasted ink and paper on printing the schedules this week. Hey, it's a win!" Angie smirked. She had hated having to write down her schedule last week. In fact, it had been Bryan who had written it down when they saw it hanging by the Auditorium door.

"A win, my ass!" Bryan shook his head, pointing at the seven different activities they had to do, only on Monday.

"What? Did you think it would be breakfast – play – lunch – nap – play – dinner – sleep – repeat?" Angie smirked. "That's called kindergarten, bro. This is the FBI Academy. Hello. And welcome!" She added sarcastically and he wanted to hate her for it, but she was so cute, saying all that.

"Sir, excuse me?" Someone called out. "What's 1-on-1?"

"That's your scheduled time with me, in my office. Some of you have a meeting with me this upcoming week." He said, his eyes chillingly cold.

"Do you?" Bryan asked Angie.

"Haven't even checked my personalized schedule yet, but I bet ya I'm on his list." She smirked, glancing over the paper for the first time. "Oh, there it is. Tomorrow morning, right after PFT. Dude better be buying me breakfast!" She sighed dramatically. Angie loved showering after training. She also loved spraying herself with her favorite perfume before class. Clearly, Monday would go differently for her.

"Wait, Monday at 9:30?" Bryan asked.

When she nodded, he showed her his schedule, with the same appointment - same day, same time.

"Guess we're still going strong on that _'Doing it together'_ promise?" She grinned.

If Dan wanted to see a selected group of Trainees, in order to yell at them, at least she'd be in good company with Bryan.

"That is all that I needed to tell you. Now, I'm leaving you in the hands of my friend here." Dan pointed at the guy who was now preparing to project his presentation on the big screen.

Their class followed an investigation from years ago, one that had ended badly. They were asked to point out the weak parts of the investigation and to comment with ideas on how things could have gone differently.

The sudden shift of study method was welcomed by the Trainees. So far they had done the standard lecture-style classes, with some laboratory experiments and testing.

From now on – it was less reading, more doing.

And Angie could not be any more excited!


	55. Damned If I Break You A Third Time

**CHAPTER 55**

_**DAMNED IF I BREAK YOU A THIRD TIME**_

Emily opened her eyes to the sound of birds chirping. It wasn't even dawn yet.

"Alright, Prentiss…" She said to herself, getting out of bed and walking to the mirror.

"Let's turn this mess around, shall we?" She said, this time to the reflection of herself.

She sighed deeply. A lot was riding on this. Yes, she had been given a clean slate – one that she knew she deserved, but she still had to work on her relationship with her colleagues, yet one more time. Especially with JJ.

After a long and refreshing shower, she put the thoughts of having said yet another 'Goodbye' to Morgan, all the way to the bottom of a drawer in her mind, before she started doing her make-up.

Because, if the Emily Prentiss that Morgan once knew was going to make a return – she'd look cute as Hell. At the very least.

She put a little more thought into her clothing choices for the day, grabbing a black dress from her wardrobe and complementing it with a mat Bordeaux lipstick, the one she had bought in Paris.

Oh, Paris…

Her eyes inevitably darted to the couch, where the letter was still hidden under a layer of cushions and tears.

But this time, she would not allow herself to cry.

No.

She was stronger than that.

He did not deserve her tears.

She did not deserve his pain.

Not a single tear would ever fall from her eyes again.

Not one!

Ever.

"Ugh…" She hissed in annoyance, grabbing a cotton ball from her cabinet and pressing it under her right eye for a second.

Well, maybe just one tiny little tear…

But that would be all!

"Get it together, Prentiss!" She spoke to herself in the mirror, proud of the fact that she hadn't managed to screw up her mascara. It had taken her a while to curl her eyelashes and to make them look like they were fake, instead. She'd be damned if she let anything mess with her best efforts of looking put together. And cute.

"Hmm, what are we going to do about _you_ now?" Her fingers slid through a strand of hair. She did not like it straight. Moreover, it was all fizzy now, so she already had to heat-treat it. Why not curl it, instead of straighten it then?

"Ah, much better." She smiled, looking at herself fifteen minutes later.

"Oh, yeah. That's what you needed, Hot Stuff!" She smirked, calling herself the way Morgan liked to call her, while placing her favorite earrings on her ears.

"Too much?" She cringed, trying out a bracelet, on top of it all.

"Hmm…" Her feet found their way into the most gorgeous and also most uncomfortable shoes in the world, and she stood in front of the full-length mirror now, twirling twice, just to make sure she was Prentiss-Approved.

"Yep definitely bracelet on." She smiled, loving her overly-feminine reflection.

"We're going all in, baby!" Her words, along with a happy dance, helped motivate her early in the morning.

An hour later, she was entering the BAU office space with her head held high. She was, also, one of the few people in the building, so early in the morning.

A smile creeped on her face when she went upstairs and entered her office. The familiar smell of furniture, perfume and paper files hit her senses and she realized that she had missed it. Despite all the drama, all the times she had ended up in a hospital, all the times she had been shot at, pursued, chained, gagged, kidnapped, threatened and then shot at again…Emily Prentiss missed this.

Emily Prentiss missed _Emily Prentiss_.

"Good morning, early bird." JJ's voice came from the door.

"Well, good morning to you, ChayChay." Emily said sleepily.

She had this weird way of pronouncing JJ's name. It was barely audible, but there was something so sweet and childlike in the way she said those two letters. And there was that smile – a big genuine smile, one that only JJ can put on her face.

"Listen, I wanted to talk to you before we-…" JJ started, but Emily simply walked over to her, pacing her hand on her shoulder.

"Water under the bridge." Emily suggested, but then realized that she was not the only side of the problem. "At least for me." She then added.

"I just want you to know that, even though I meant every word I said, I mostly meant the closing lines of that message…" JJ pointed out.

"I know." Emily's hand now pulled JJ in for a hug, because, after all, she had missed feeling the warmth of her best friend's body, pressing against hers.

Emily pulled back after a few seconds, but, to her surprise, she felt JJ's hands wrap around her, pulling her back in. She was not done. She hadn't had enough. Would she ever have enough of Emily?

"Oh, JayChay." Emily let her hand rub JJ's back for a moment, taking in her scent, it bringing back a flush of memories.

"Yay, I'm just in time to join the party!" Reid squeaked from behind them, reaching them with open arms and making sure he'd wrap one hand around each one of the girls.

"Spence, why so early? I saw you online at 2 am." JJ raised an eyebrow.

"While sleep requirements vary slightly from person to person, most healthy adults need between seve7 to nine hours of sleep per night to function at their best. Children and teens need even more. And despite the notion that our sleep needs to decrease with age, most older people still need at least seven hours of sleep. I consider myself an old soul, so I guess seven hours were enough." Reid replied.

"It's 7 am now. You barely had five hours of sleep if you went to bed at two." JJ pointed out, messing with his hair. "Not to mention, the time it takes you to drive down here, so that only gives you, at most, four hours of sleep."

"Okay, you got me." Reid shrugged. "I couldn't wait to have her back." He whispered to JJ, but Emily most definitely heard that.

"I must be real special if you were willing to be exposed to double the germs, by hugging us both." Emily smirked.

"Well, psychology points out that hugs decrease the amount of stress a person is feeling and that a physical touch is a sense of support and intimacy." He stated, being a bit jittery.

"But…?" JJ asked, knowing that, with Spencer, there was always a _But_.

"But a study published in August of 2014 in the American Journal of Infection Control found that fist bumping is the most hygienic greeting. It is believed to spread fewer germs than high fives and handshakes." He added, now feeling satisfied by his speech.

"Oh, here's my boy!" Emily giggled, messing with his hair, just like JJ had done a minute ago.

"Hey, I actually combed it this morning!" He stepped away from both girls, frantically trying to sleek it all back in place.

"Ooh, he combed it." JJ teased him. "How cute!"

"You two are mean…" He muttered to himself, on his way to the bullpen.

"And to think I was excited to see you again…" He continued to whine to himself and it sent the girls into a deep, genuine laughter.

"God, I've missed him." Emily said to JJ when Reid was out of sight, possibly in the bathroom, scrubbing germs from his hands.

He prided himself in being over his germophobia, yet every time someone teased him about it, he spiraled right back into his obsession.

"I've missed _all_ of you." Emily then corrected herself with a statement that hit closer to her heart.

"Promise me one thing?" JJ's eyes looked up at her. Because, through the years, Emily had not only been her boss and her friend. No. She had been her mentor, her savior, her lifeline, her _everything_. Emily was the person JJ had the strongest connection to.

"I promise you, JayChay, I won't leave you, ever again." Emily was quick to reply and somehow that speed suggested there was not much truth to her words, almost as if it had been rehearsed.

"How can you be so sure?" JJ shook her head in disbelief.

"Because I saw you break once. And then I saw you break twice. And I'll be damned before I let my eyes see you break a third time." Emily, now standing in front of JJ, extended her hand, holding JJ's in hers, massaging the palm of her hand with her thumb.

"I'll never do this to you again, JJ." She whispered and that tiny crack in her voice now, that emotional overload in her eyes – _that_ was what finally gave JJ the strength to drop the topic and to move on.

She nodded before exiting Emily's office and busying herself with work preparations at her own desk.

* * *

"Guys, I am happy to announce that the BAU is back and we need all hands on deck." Emily started her opening speech when the clock hit 10 am and they were all in the meeting room.

She had walked in with pride, strutting to the white board and getting ready for yet another team roundup.

"Damn, Prentiss…Wow!" Luke held himself back from whistling, but he was quite vocal with his appreciation.

"Looking good, Chief!" Even Reid gave her a compliment.

"Am I even straight?" Tara raised an eyebrow, walking by Emily to go take her usual seat at the table. She eyed Emily up and down, twice, before she continued walking.

"I'm married, so…" Rossi shrugged when it was his turn to compliment Emily. And, in typical Rossi manner, this was his way of giving appreciation to her.

"Thank you…" Emily blushed a little bit, but still loving the feedback.

"Now, back to work. We have been handed a case by the Bellevue Police Department…" She started off.

"Bellevue, Washington?" Tara raised an eyebrow. "They _have_ a Police Department?" She added, having previous knowledge of this area. She knew a guy from there and he had always pointed out how small that place felt like.

"Spencer?" JJ leaned back on her seat, shooting him a glance.

"Bellevue is a city in Washington state, across Lake Washington from Seattle. Downtown Park has a large lawn, gardens and a waterfall. Nearby, the Bellevue Arts Museum features craft and design exhibitions, plus a sculpture garden. The Bellevue Botanical Garden highlights Pacific Northwest plants, and includes woodlands and wetlands. I'm digging it." He smiled.

"Do I even want to know why?" Rossi asked.

"KidsQuest Children's Museum has interactive science, tech and art exhibitions." Reid smiled contently.

"Also, the Bellevue Police Department, according to very recent data, accommodates 185 commissioned officers and 47 civilian employees. The department's annual operating budget is about $45 million and it only services 143,000 people…which makes us think about our own budget here…" Reid looked down at the table, feeling a bit weird.

"Wow, they better have good coffee!" JJ smirked, already planning on asking for free stuff for the BAU team.

"Guys, no, no!" Emily shook her head. "We go in, professional, and we ask for _no_ special treatment. Let's not forget that we need to stay humble and also, to stay within our own budget."

"Speaking of budget, should I start making travel plans for the team?" Tara asked, since her previous work expertise with travel planning was very much needed at that moment.

"Yes, please. JJ, you and I are sharing a triple room." Emily had clearly given this some thought.

However, when it came to the boys, she shot a glance at Rossi.

"I'll be happy to share a room with just about anyone." He said calmly, now glancing over to Reid.

"I uh…" Reid stuttered.

"Luke and I are fine sharing. We always do. The more the merrier." Matt said.

"In a very non awkward way, of course." Luke smirked, making it all sound way different than what Matt intended it to sound like.

"Oh, Luke, please get your fix from Lisa before we leave." Emily laughed, because she had always had this banter with the guy.

Luke then sat back in his seat, like a guilty schoolboy.

Emily sensed his discomfort and a glance at Matt, sitting next to him and being his personal confident, confirmed to her that she had missed out on a few warning signs coming from Luke recently.

She bit her bottom lip, not wanting to discuss his personal life in front of everyone and she moved on, but only after making a mental note to herself to talk to Luke in private, the first chance she had.

"I mean, I guess I shouldn't mind sharing either…" Reid shrugged, being smart enough to know when to change topic. "Right?" He then added with a scared look on his face.

"Come on, bro!" Matt smirked at Reid. "We'll be nice to you. We'll use the gentle shaving foam."

Reid's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Shaving foam? He had seen enough crime scenes to know that this could not end well for him…or for his hair, since he had no beard.

"Dear Lord Jesus, I come to you, humble and desperate…" Rossi put his hands together and leaned over the table, looking upwards. He could not have done a more Italian thing. "Please, I am begging you, please give me the strength to survive Camp with the boys!"

Everyone laughed, not realizing that he was only half-joking with those words.

"Quadruple then?" Emily finally pushed her initial suggestion, timidly, as if not to step on anyone's toes.

She respected Rossi way more than to stick him in a room with two wild animals and a genius. But desperate times call for desperate measures and, even booking a triple for the girls and the quadruple for the boys, she was over the budget and she was paying the remaining bits with her own money. She would however, not let them know about that.

Luke and Matt nodded in agreement, absolutely genuinely.

Rossi nodded, feeling like someone was pressing a revolver to his temple and he had no other choice.

Reid had lowered himself on his seat, so much that he was about to disappear under the table. But he nodded, too.

Emily took a second to thank the Lord herself, when she received somewhat positive vibes from almost everyone.

"Okay, I've sent the case information to your accounts. Now here's what we're dealing with…" Emily started off.

She had received the e-mail late last evening, which meant that she had spent hours studying it and she still felt unprepared, it being the first case they had in a month now.

"JJ, do you mind?" Emily then, suddenly, came out and asked JJ to join her by the presentation board.

It came naturally, spontaneously. Emily felt that sad emptiness around her and she just needed to feel someone stand by her side, giving her courage, even if they didn't speak. What better someone than JJ?

"Sure." JJ stood up, fixing the wrinkles on her shirt and clearing her throat before standing tall, next to the boss.

Emily then had what she needed. She continued, giving them all the information they had on the case so far. JJ just stood there, asking questions from time to time and also, very subtly, commenting on a few of the things that Emily had pointed out.

It felt good. It was no longer Emily 'against' everyone. It was more leveled this way. She liked it, a lot.

"So, we have three victims so far. One newly kidnapped local girl who fits the victimology and we have no leads, no suspects?" Rossi summed it all up in two sentences when they were done listening.

"Exactly." Emily looked at him, trying not to show how desperately she needed them to crack this case.

"And we are now going to work alongside the Bellevue Police, doing everything we possibly can, to make sure this gets resolved quickly and painlessly." JJ added, brightening up the mood a little bit, as she knew where Emily was right now, mentally – back a month ago, in that room, with _that_ case…

"Wheels up in 30!" Emily said with authority.

When everyone was about to leave, she added one more thing that came to her spontaneously.

"JJ, would you mind shadowing me on this one?" She asked, the words coming from deep within her heart.

"Uh, sure. Okay." JJ gulped, suddenly her knees giving in and she felt the need to sit down.

If JJ loved one thing, it was to play Unit Chief. She wasn't sure she was ready to want to be one just yet, but down the road, she knew this was her ultimate goal. And yet, she never allowed herself to even fantasize about it, because that would only mean that Emily Prentiss would no longer be there. And the reasons for that scared the crap out of JJ. So, her dreams strayed away from the image of Unit Chief Jennifer Jereau.

Yet, it felt so good to be able to play it out, even temporarily.

"Alright. Now, it is no secret that I am…" Emily sighed, searching for the right words, also, words that were suitable for a business meeting. She found none, so she just shot it as it was.

"Fucked up, Basically." Emily shrugged. "I do not feel like I am fully able to act as Unit Chief, at least not for this first case after uh, the cursed case…" She shrugged.

Somehow the BAU had named their last case, from a month ago, and that name had stuck. Nobody wanted to talk about it, so every brief mention received this nickname and no specifics of this case had ever been discussed.

"And I do not wish to officially give up my job title, because God knows if I will ever get it back. So, I would like to make JJ my temporary shadow. From this point on, JJ's word trumps mine. If we are on the field and I give out a command, JJ is free to give a different one and we should all obey _that_ one. Me included." Emily ended her speech calmly.

Everyone just raised their eyebrows. Emily was all about the power, the authority. She had always been great at it. Why would she back out now?

A few seconds later it hit them that Emily was doing the right thing. If she felt like she was unable to lead the team, she was now giving someone else the power and control, thus making sure the team would always have a stable leader, so that nothing bad could happen if Emily screwed up and made the wrong decision. She was surely not opting for a failure and she knew she was going to do everything in her power, in order to do great. But, given the last decisions she made turned out to be fatal, she was afraid to give the team her word, since she was unsure she could keep it. And there came JJ – the one with a good head on her shoulders, the one to lead the team away from any danger that Emily might, unintentionally, be leading them into.

Smart move. A move that only the strongest of leaders can choose to make.

Rossi was the first one to nod in agreement. Being the most experienced one on the field, he respected Emily for giving up her decision-making power and handing it to JJ.

"Alright, wheels up in 30." Emily then dismissed them all and went back to her office to gather the things she wanted to bring with her for the case.


	56. I Found Myself Wanting To Mentor Two

** CHAPTER 56**

_**I FOUND MYSELF WANTING TO MENTOR TWO**_

"Ugh, I might not be so opposed to the roommate re-scheduling after all!" Angie rolled her eyes when her attempts to get Bryan to get out of bed before 6 am on Monday morning failed miserably.

"I never thought I'd say that, but I really miss Jack!" Bryan groaned from under the covers, with Angie now sitting on his bed, her fists bumping against his shoulders.

"Speaking of Jack…do you think we'll ever see him after that big reveal yesterday? I mean, I feel like things kind of were left unresolved. Was he _asked_ to be rude to us? Or is he just a dick?" Her words made him poke his head out and look at her.

"Hmm, I don't know. He was a pretty cool dude those first few days of the Academy. If the real Jack is anything like him, I kind of _do_ want to see him again. Why not? We already saw that Amanda was only _acting_ like a stone-cold bitch. So, maybe it was the same for Jack. Guess we can't judge him, now that we know the truth." He rubbed his eyes.

"Damn it, Angela!" He said when he finally managed to focus on the clock, which read 5:43.

"Come on, only seventeen minutes earlier. I wasn't mean to you this morning!" She smirked. She had woken him up two hours in advance, days before, and _that_ was when he had the right to be pissed.

"Maybe if you stop banging your hands against my already sore body!? I'm awake, stop!" He suggested, feeling his hands ache from all the extra work out that he had put in recently.

"You have an amazing body. I didn't think I liked guys with muscles, but in your case…daaamn…" She trailed off dreamily.

"Eww, Hunter, don't you even think about coming on to me!" He cringed.

"Oh, I'm not. I'm just saying I like a body type like yours. But mind wise, you're an idiot and I could never be attracted to you." She said, clearly jokingly.

He then jumped out of bed so fast, tackling her to the floor and using one of the new tactics they had learned about, pretending to be handcuffing her as a criminal.

"Oh, damn. But if you don't stop straddling me I might just…" Angie kept on pushing it and he hated her for it.

"Shut up!" He put his hand on her mouth, but she only bit him and freed her mouth.

"I bet you're imagining I was your precious Agent Hotness right now. Aren't you?" She teased him, biting her lip gently. "Do you fantasize about handcuffing her? Huh? Or wait, is it the other way around? So hot!"

"You are the Devil!" He let go of her, finally, and walked over to the chair next to his studying station.

"Haha, come on. I'm just teasing you. I mean, I don't blame you – that woman is lookin' good, for her age, you know." She kept on laughing.

"I don't have a thing for Agent Hotness!" He crossed his hands against his chest.

"Yup, you definitely do not." She rolled her eyes. "Is that why you keep calling her Hotness?"

"I've told you I find at least twenty women attractive, here on Campus, since we've met. Why are you only focusing on that one tiny little comment I made about this particular woman?" He rolled his eyes, now annoyed with her.

"Because it is more fun, since she's the oldest one." She grinned, grabbing her towel. If Bryan was being mean and tackling her, she'd beat him and go take a shower first that morning. _That_ will teach him!

"I only said that she looked good and I stand by those words. I never said all those other things you're talking about." He was starting to be a bit irritated, so Angie dropped it and locked herself in the shower.

When she got out, he jumped right in, without really saying a word to her.

During PFT they never had too much chance to talk, so it wasn't until after training that she realized he was most definitely upset with her. It was the second time already and she had a feeling she knew why.

"Sorry. I had forgotten about my promise to never bring _it_ up again." She shrugged, now walking by his side to the sidelines, where their gym bags were. They were both in desperate need of water.

"You didn't bring _it_ up." He shrugged.

"Well, not _that_, but I hit a nerve and for that I am sorry." She said, watching him take a sip of his water bottle while she just held hers in her hands.

"Look, we're friends and I respect you a lot, but I just don't want to talk about it. Ever. Okay?" He said with a weird timber in his voice, one that Angie had never heard before.

He didn't specify what _'it'_ was, but she knew. The profiler in her knew enough about him already.

"Can we drop the frown and go face Dan now?" She suggested.

He smiled at her. "Of course. This doesn't change the way I feel about you."

He held his hand out for her to hold, like a true gentleman, and they walked over to the main building, both still sweaty and panting from all the exercise.

* * *

"Just in time. Please, take a seat." Dan pointed at the only two empty chairs around the table in his office. The other three were occupied by Amanda, Jack and himself.

"Hey guys." Both Angie and Bryan greeted them warmly, already having discussed that they would be giving them a chance to explain before they form an opinion on the _real_ Amanda and Jack.

"Now, before you start hating on them, you should know that everything was my idea and they had little-to-no say in what went down." Dan started off.

"We know. We're not judging. In fact, we wanted to hear their side of it." Bryan said politely, showing that they held no grudge.

"I was the Wild Card of the Academy last year. Amanda was my best friend through all of it and we made it, graduating together and moving on to build a career in different Units, but we stayed friends after that." Jack spoke hesitantly. He had been very rude to both Angie and Bryan and he felt so guilty about it.

"Jack graduated top of the class, followed by Amanda, down by just three points." Dan pointed out, since Jack was too humble to give himself the praise he deserved.

"The Wild Card?" Bryan then asked.

"Every year, the Academy Mentor chooses one person who does not show potential at first sight, to be the Wild Card. He then puts them through Hell and back, breaks them down both physically and mentally…" Amanda started to explain.

"Puts poison in their water?" Angie raised an eyebrow and her addition to Amanda's words finally made sense to Bryan. That was why she hadn't yet taken a sip of water after training that morning.

"Yes. I was asked to do that and I might have accidentally put double the doze this last time, for which I am extremely sorry." Jack shrugged. It had never been his intention to put her in a hospital.

"Why would you do that to me anyway?" Angie asked, but facing Dan, since he was the mastermind.

"Because, Trainee Hunter, I believe you have immense potential hiding somewhere between your big mouth and your colorful bow. I believe you haven't bloomed yet, but when you do, everyone would be sorry for calling you Cheerleader in class. Because, I believe that you are way smarter, way stronger and way more capable than what you show." Dan's words were making her feel something.

Anger? No. She was calm.

Doubt? No. She believed him.

Pride? No. She was humble.

"Last year I put a lot of work and time into Jack and he is now an amazing Agent. Same goes for Amanda. As soon as I realized her potential and I figured out the field she would best fit in, it was obvious that she was a valuable one for the Bureau. I have mentored them both in class and separately, giving them assignments with different divisions, making sure they had the best opportunities they could have. All I asked in return was hard work, sweat and sometimes, tears." Dan spoke.

"We spent endless nights in the ER, went in the field with broken bones in our bodies, suffered the most traumatic nightmares for months…" Amanda added. "But it was all worth it when we finally graduated and walked in our assigned Unit offices, holding that badge, with the gun safely holstered to the side of our non-khaki pants." Amanda laughed, she hated the Academy clothes so much.

"What we're trying to say here is that, if Dan chose to toy with you, this is nothing but a compliment and you must be proud. He never wasted time on weaklings. He only trains the best of the best and we, much like you, were being tested mercilessly. But now, looking back at it, we know that we've been lucky to be chosen." Jack said, adding to Amanda's words.

"Well, last year I focused on Jack. I only had Amanda on my radar by the end of the Academy training. Plus, I only get the budget allowance to focus on _one_ Trainee each year. And with the budget cuts this year, I can't even afford one…" Dan sighed. "And yet, I found myself wanting to mentor two."

Angie raised an eyebrow. Two? Her and Bryan, clearly. But, why?

"I did not plan on telling you all of this so quickly. But you two have proved worthy of my time and my limited budget. And I clearly feel really bad about the stunt with Angie's water…" He trailed off.

"Yeah, what was the point of that?" Angie said, a bit irritated.

She was parched and she was now scared to reach for a drink, no matter where she was, afraid that it might be poisoned.

"The point was for me to see if you will crack and crumble into a ball, like a scared little girl, the moment your body did not feel prepared to meet our expectations. And you fought that nausea, like it was nothing! You dragged a bin to the training area, just in case you were going to be sick, but you did not allow yourself to slack in any of the training. And you kept your head held high in class, sucking the pain in and focusing on your lectures. You smashed your goals and then you smashed our expectations, placing yourself on top of almost every teacher's list." Dan's words only made that weird feeling in Angie's stomach grow stronger.

What was it?

"And through it all, you had the strength to carry Bryan with you, helping him out when he needed. You cracked the Amanda case, you smashed your profiling classes and don't you think for a second I haven't asked individual feedback on you, from every single person who ever trained you. In fact, I begged all of them to treat you with disrespect, only to have you prove to me how much you want to be here and how much you deserve to be it…" Dan smirked.

"It?" She raised an eyebrow.

"My Wild Card this year." Dan then came out and stated the obvious.

Oops, there is was. That feeling, again.

Satisfaction. Yes. Because Angie was completely satisfied with all she had done so far and was now proud to hear her actual unfiltered feedback.

"Well, that's good to know. So, may I be free to assume that people will stop terrorizing me from now on? I'm not keen on bullies." She sighed.

"Usually, Dan's testing period extends to the first five weeks of training. But given the crash-course he's put you through, it is safe to say that you will only experience what you deserve from now on. No biased bad feedback from teachers." Amanda pointed out.

"Except from that dude at Tactical Driving. God, he hates my guts." Angie laughed, completely unmoved by the conversation.

It was as if she had accepted it and moved on, all in the matter of seconds. Yes, she felt good about it all, but she wasn't one to waste time on dwelling on the past, nor basking in her glory.

"Yeah, you might want to put a little more effort into that class." Dan laughed. This was, by far, the worst feedback he had received on her.

"I plan on doing that, Sir." Angie once again replied in an educated, polite way. Besides her occasional Diva moments, she was really well-behaved.

"Now, you'll have to excuse me, but I have a meeting with my Superior, who hates the fact that I am now requesting extra funds for the mentoring of _two_ Trainees. So, it should be obvious by now that I need you to do your best and to make me proud. Because, guys, I am betting big time, on both of you." Dan looked at Bryan first and then he stared at Angie for a bit longer, since _she_ was his original chosen one from the start.

They both nodded, understanding what he meant.

"Drinks tonight?" Jack offered as they all walked out of Dan's office.

"We can't leave the Academy yet." Angie looked at him challengingly. "Plus, I wouldn't want to give you yet another chance to spike my drink."

"Then it's a good thing you have friends who are fully accredited Agents and can bring the party to you." Amanda smirked, mentally preparing a checklist of all the things she had to buy.

"Look, I didn't mean to harm you…" Jack started, but Angie just laughed.

"Dude, I'm just messing with you. But hey, if I can guilt-trick you into getting us both pizzas from anywhere outside Campus, then I'm going to milk the scenario where I play the victim and you feel obliged to make up for what you did to me." Angie said innocently.

"You do know that there is something _way_ chilling about the way you speak, right? Like, you could tell me three different ways you might want to export my organs by, and I'd freaking laugh every single time, because you are just too cute when you speak, even if you are the Devil…" Amanda did not finish her sentence.

She had noticed Angie's manner of speaking and of saying things, masking them under different feelings and emotions, a long time ago. And Amanda was an expert on pretense. She was, after all, a skilled undercover agent.

"Uh, thanks…" Angie was not sure if it was meant as a compliment, but she took it as one anyway.

"You'll have a bright future in Undercover. If that's anything that might interest you, well I'm here to talk to you about it." Amanda offered.

"Ah, no. I'm not interested in pretending to be anyone else but Angela Hunter." She smirked.

If they only knew how she went by _Danielle_, just a month ago.

"Plus, it is so weird to see you have a soul." Angie added, making Amanda confused. "I mean, just because I was so used to your snappy comments when you were my roommate."

"Oh, trust me, she is snappy and she is snarky and she is bitchy and she is awesome!" Jack commented, earning himself a small slap on the shoulder, much like Angie liked to slap Bryan sometimes.

"We have to go for our SWAT training now." Angie hated it, but they had to separate yet one more time.

"SWAT? I heard they were short out of a training officer." Jack commented.

"I dunno. It's what our schedule says." Angie's shoulders rose a bit before they said their goodbyes. Temporary ones, this time.

They made plans to hang out that evening and Amanda and Jack went back to their Units, while Angie and Bryan went to the field where SWAT training was held at.

"I'm so excited for this." Bryan commented, as this was one of his favorite trainings at the Academy.

Angie was only just about to add that to her top favorites.


	57. That's How Many Times You Just Died

** CHAPTER 57**

_**THAT'S HOW MANY TIMES YOU JUST DIED**_

"Dibs on that window seat!" JJ yelled out, the moment she stepped on the plane.

"Oh, come on!" Tara protested.

There were five window seats on the plane, yet the girls always found themselves arguing over one of them.

"Don't make me pull the Temporary Unit Chief card!" JJ threatened as she walked over to the desired seat.

"Temporary Unit Chief's _Assistant_." Emily smirked, correcting JJ while slyly taking the seat, right from underneath her nose.

"Oh, you will pay for this, Prentiss!" JJ hissed. "You will pay!"

"Mhm." Emily croaked with a smile before opening her laptop and going over the case details one more time.

For the rest of the plane ride, everyone kept quiet, unless they had something to share, connected to the case. Normally, the plane was safe ground for them, a place where they would act silly and take videos of each other, singing, dancing, sleeping in weird positions. Not to mention the prank wars that took place on board.

However, with all that was on stakes for them, as a team, and for the poor girl who had been kidnapped after three other girls her age had already been found dead in the area, they just did not have it in them to waste any time by being silly.

* * *

"Good morning, Trainees. And you better believe it's the last good one you'll have!" A deep, masculine voice resonated in the air around the Trainees, as they stepped onto the SWAT training field.

"Great, another bully!" Bryan rolled his eyes.

They had literally _just_ been promised no more teacher negativity and hostile environment.

Angie had frozen in place, as soon as she had heard the voice that came from behind her. She barely registered Bryan's words to her.

"I am your new training Agent and you can call me DeMo, for now. And you punks better believe I'll bust your asses in training!" He said sternly.

Angie turned around very slowly.

"Wow!" She exclaimed, as soon as her eyes laid on the person who had been speaking.

The man locked his eyes with hers for just a second. He looked so intimidating, his stare could melt anyone. But not her.

Angie smiled, unable to control her reaction.

"Dude, this is going to be awesome!" She almost squealed, now tugging on the side of Bryan's pants from all the excitement she felt.

"Scratch anything you think you may know about SWAT now. From this point on, what I say, goes. What I command, you do. What I do, you analyze and study, and then repeat. Clear?" DeMo said loud and clear.

"I did not hear you, Trainees. Am I clear?" He yelled louder and everyone felt obliged to reply to him, as if this was the Marine Corps.

"Good. Now I need five teams of ten people." He said, calculating a rough estimate of about fifty Trainees in front of him.

He then gave each team different instructions for their first training. After that, he let each team enter the training field, with the aim of not getting spotted.

Each Trainee was asked to wear an all-white apron, on top of their Academy uniform.

He entered with them, checking the way they moved and how well they knew the protocol when breaching a complex field with multiple doors.

For the purpose of the training, he used colorful paintball-based guns. Each time a member of the team screwed up, he shot them.

At the end of the training he asked everyone to stand in line and to look around.

"You?" He pointed at a random girl. "How many paint shots do you have?"

"Uh, six, I think." She replied.

"Seven!" DeMo pointed out. "That's how many times you just died during this mission."

Everyone gasped and started counting their own shots.

"Each shot could have been that one, fatal shot. Now, I want you to sit on your butts for the next fifteen minutes and to talk to each other. Try to figure out what you did wrong and why you deserved those shots. And may I point out, not all the shots came from me. Some of you put yourselves in the line of friendly fire, and got shot by your teammates. This is just…absurd!" The guy waved his hands in the air, illustrating the severity of the situation.

They all took that quarter of an hour to do as instructed. After that, they were asked to put a fresh white apron on and re-enter the training field, still in the same groups.

When the second wave of training missions finished, the trainer rounded them up once more.

"Counted your shots this time?" He asked and people nodded. "Noticed anything different?"

"I got three shots less." A guy commented.

"I got four less than last time." A girl added.

"Congratulations. This is three or four times less chances for you to die. And do you want to know why?" DeMo challenged them.

"Because speaking to your team before a case is not only mandatory, but also crucial, for the wellbeing of all team members. A good team strategy and a strong bond between the teammates decreases the chances of anyone getting hurt. Also, on psychological level, entering the field, knowing that you have people who are surely watching your back, helps tremendously during a mission." Angie stated, missing out the memo that he had asked a rhetorical question.

"Uh, Sir." She added, trying to make up for overstepping and taking over his mellow, enlightening speech.

"Exactly." The man said, pointing at her. "Who on Earth are you, now?"

"Trainee Angela Hunter, Sir DeMo!" She said with a smile.

"Trainee Angela Hunter, I like you." The man smirked. "Don't get bigheaded now."

She giggled. It felt so good to hear someone be so openly nice to her in class.

"Being bigheaded will kill you, out on the field, Sir. So no, I most definitely do not have any intention of being that." She said, fully confident in her words.

"That is all for today. I went easy on ya'll. You better believe next time you see me, you'll be bawling your eyes out and sweating like a…" He stopped himself from speaking before he'd say some reference that would sound a bit too informal, according to the Academy standards.

"Get out of here now." He dismissed them all and spotted Dan walking over towards him.

"So?" Dan asked once they were the only two people left around.

"So, I am loving this." He smirked. "Bossing kids around…are you kidding me? This is awesome! I never knew I've missed teaching at the Academy. It's been years now. This is awesome!"

"Come on, man. I know you'd rather be out there on the field, battling monsters with your own team." Dan pushed it.

"Well, I'm not going to deny that." He shrugged.

"And…?" Dan asked further.

"And yes, I saw who you were telling me about. She's bright and she's good on the field. She's got game, that lil' one." He swept a drop of sweat from his forehead. "And her sidekick, he was impressive out there."

"He comes from years on SWAT." Dan pointed out.

"I can tell. He's got moves and he entered the field with caution, yet sure of himself. I spotted him out before I had even figured _he_ was her friend." He said before taking a sip of water.

"Alright. Then I guess I did well with your recruitment here, Morgan." Dan stood up and held his hand out.

Morgan shook his hand willingly, mouthing a 'thank you' to the man who had given him a chance to work in the FBI again, even if it was just as a training officer. It was a start.

* * *

"Hello, I'm looking for someone. Maybe you've seen him around…" Victor approached a bartender, showing the girl a photo of Richard in plain clothes.

"Uh, no." She replied shortly.

"Are you sure? He would have been around, every evening, ordering a glass of wine. I just need to know which table he sat on, or maybe he was at the bar?"

"No, he hasn't been here. Never seen this dude. He's hot, though." The bartender chuckled and Victor tried not to cringe.

He wasn't one to judge, but this girl was showing way too much cleavage and was way too young to even work at a bar, handlng alcohol. She looked sixteen, at best.

"Well, is there anyone else I could talk to? Maybe you weren't on shift when he was around."

"I'm covering for this dude that just got fired. Real douchebag, he'd always roll up to work drunk and high, so the owner gave him the boot and now I'm working five nights a week, stuck in this nasty bar with those nasty assholes asking me for my phone number." She rolled her eyes.

Well, at least she sounded like she hated her job. There was some sort of hope that one day she'd get out of there and do something productive with her life.

But she was the least of Victor's worries. He hadn't seen, nor heard of Richard for three days now and he was starting to get worried.

Richard was the only one who knew all the specifics of this new job and he had refused to tell anyone more than just the outcome, if the job went smoothly. What happened before the final outcome, was strictly Richard's job and was kept a secret.

He had arranged a way of communicating with Victor - he had to go to this bar every night and, based on where he sat, he'd be saying something different to Victor.

Sitting at the bar would mean that everything was okay, but only if he was at the corner, near the rest rooms, whereas the side of the bar, near the entrance door, would communicate trouble that Richard was able to overcome on his own, so there was no need to worry.

Sitting on a table near a window would mean that something unexpected has happened and that Richard was gaining information, while choosing an inner table would mean that he was in immediate danger and in need of back-up, in which case Victor or whoever would be at the bar that night – each night, someone different, never the same person; would need to find a way to introduce themselves to Richard and to go sit with him, under the pretense of having a drink with a stranger.

And then, Richard had never even stepped foot at the bar. He was a big man, very hard not to notice or remember. So, if the bartender said she had never seen him, he surely never was there at all.

"Yo, you came here, snooping, and you won't even grab a drink? Hey? Come on, I can make it fun…" The bartender called out after Victor when he was directed towards the exit.

He turned around slowly, shaking his head. This girl could be his daughter.

"Take care of yourself." He said to her before leaving.

* * *

"Hey, daddy's home!" Morgan felt a sense of relief when he opened the door and his son threw himself in his arms, as if he hadn't seen him in months.

"Hey, how was your first day at the Academy?" Savannah welcomed him with a kiss, followed by another one and one more, in addition to that.

"Ugh…" Morgan groaned, crashing on top of the couch.

"That bad, huh?" She sat next to him and let her hand trail up and down the side of his arm.

"It wasn't bad. I enjoyed teaching. It's just…"

"Not the same?" She was quick enough to finish his sentence.

"Yeah. I miss my team. I miss the action. I thought that being there would change things, and it did…for the worse. I kept staring over at Headquarters and mentally cursing the day I took that dumb decision to leave!"

Savannah gave him a look when she heard those words.

"No, okay, that came out wrong. What I mean is, yeah the decision to leave was the right one, at the time. I left, for the sake of this family. Everything that happened to us right before we left…I couldn't risk your life again. So I left, alright, I gotta own that. But…"

Her hand kept on encouraging him, brushing softly against his skin, as she listened to everything he had to say.

"And this house…don't get me started on this house. I hate every corner of it. I can't believe I had four properties before we left and now we don't even have a home. This short term rental thing is not really my thing. Come on, a lease for three months? I mean, that's three months more than what I'm willing to spend in this ruined piece of real estate anyway, but come on…three months? Like the landlords just know how crappy this place is and that they will never find anyone to rent it for longer. Makes me feel like a dumb ass punk for being here, under this damn roof!" He said grumpily, looking around the almost empty living room, with its crooked walls and non-matching furniture.

Savannah chuckled. She knew where this was coming from.

"Derek, you still _own_ four properties here. It's just that there are people, living in them right now. You can't kick them out. The lease on our original home expires in five months and after that we can move back in." She reminded him.

"Six months! Six months of Hell. Plus, where are we going to live if we are only welcome to stay here three months, tops?" He was almost panicking and she could not deny the fact that she liked a worked up Derek.

"We'll figure it out. We always do. In the meantime, we are together, all of us are healthy, our son is starting a new school and we just need to give this time. Everything will go back to normal, sooner or later." She reassured him, giving him more kisses, since just words had never been enough for him.

"You are the best decision I ever made in my life!" He said in between those kisses.

"May I point out another bad decision you've made just recently?" She knew how to break bad news to him - some small talk, some kissing and then boom, the bad news. And then some more kissing, to soften up the blow.

"Please don't." He sighed, knowing perfectly well what she would say next.

"Baby, they love you and they will support you. Not to mention how happy they will be to have you back. You can't isolate yourself at home and go by DeMo at the Academy, hoping that no one would utter your full name, so that no one would figure out you never boarded that plane back home. Or whatever that place was, because I'm not entirely sure it ever felt like 'home' anyway." She shrugged.

They had been living in a new house, by the beach. Their son loved it, but neither of his parents was crazy about that place. It felt bland, at best. It lacked soul. It lacked the voices of eight people that Morgan would have loved to invite over for drinks. He felt dead, living there. That was exactly what he had felt like.

"I can't…" He shook his head. "I've asked around and the BAU has been hit hard lately. I don't want to mess up their dynamics and to get them into trouble by letting them beg for me to come back on the team. I know they'd do that for me. Hell, I _want_ them to do that for me, egoistically, I really do. But I just can't do this. I saw them, they're a complete team now, they have their own inside jokes and…yeah, maybe coming back here was a mistake…"

"Oh, no, baby. Don't you dare second-guess the only good decision you've made for the past few years!" Savannah stopped him right away. "Ok, that came out wrong, but you know what I'm saying."

"I know. It just feels right and yet, so wrong. I don't know how I feel about it. I want my team back, but I also cannot invade their space. Not right now. It's better if I watch from the sidelines." He grabbed the remote, intending on playing whatever channel, just so that he'd look interested and invested, so that she would shut up and leave him alone. He was confused enough and, even though he loved her, he didn't want her opinion on this, mostly because it served to confuse him even more. And also – because he knew she was right.

"Fine. Hide in denial all you want. Just know that they would be heartbroken when they inevitably find out the truth. And everything good that you just did for Emily, will come back to bite you in the ass. She would never forgive you for this stunt, mark my words." Savannah then let him watch cartoons with their son as she went to the kitchen to prepare something for dinner.

* * *

"Dude, pick up!" Victor was now pacing up and down the street where Richard lived, calling his phone over and over again.

A quick trip to his home had confirmed that he hadn't been there in a few days. His safe was emptied out and his gun was nowhere to be found. That was hardly good news.

"Pick up!" He muttered to himself, noticing one of Richard's cars parked outside.

He never parked outside. He had a garage, for each vehicle he owned and used. He even had a full sized garage for his motorbike. Why would he leave a car out on the street?

The window of his bedroom was cracked open and Victor knew that Richard would never leave it like this if he was not at home for more than a day.

"Come ooooooon, pick up!" He was getting impatient.

The phone was ringing…until it wasn't anymore.

At some point, Richard's phone went off.

Victor's heart sunk, the second he lost the last hope he had, hope of getting in touch with his best friend and his boss.

He went back to the office and knew that for the next few days he could do nothing, to help Richard out. His hands were tied. All he could do was to step up and be the boss, now that Richard was not there. He needed to trust his best friend and also, he needed to pray for his wellbeing. The little information he had on this job made it sound like a very complicated and risky one.

"Sir, I need to run something by you…oh?" Someone walked in Richard's office, talking to the back of his chair and gasping when that chair turned around, with Victor sitting in it, instead.

"I'm on temporary duty here until Richard comes back. You can run it by me. Come on, show me?" He urged the person to walk in and talk to him.

The person pitched something and Victor hated the idea. It was equally as risky, as what Richard had just gotten himself into.

But he had to keep one thing in mind – he was Richard's temporary substitute for those times when Richard could not be in the office. That meant that Victor had to do things the 'Richard' way, not the 'Victor' way.

"Sounds promising." He stated after the pitch. "I will give this some thought and I'll let Richard sign your permissions, as soon as he gets back. Hopefully soon…"

"Thank you, Sir." The other person said before exiting the office.

"If you die on me one more time, I swear I'll be the one to find you and to put that final bullet to your head, this time!" He groaned, holding a photo of him and Richard, from years ago, in his hands.

Of course Richard would keep framed photos in his office. He was the most amazing person Victor had ever met – loyal, funny, outgoing, a bit weird, and so incredibly devoted to his friendship with Victor.


	58. Rub My Bottle Gently, Baby

** CHAPTER 58**

_**RUB MY BOTTLE GENTLY, BABY**_

"Welcome to Bellevue, Agents!" The Chief Officer personally accompanied the BAU team inside the police station.

"Oh, good. They have coffee!" Reid stated as soon as they walked in and he spotted a big coffee machine hanging around in the main hall. After that, he was ready to face the world.

"Thank you. I am SSA Prentiss…" Emily introduced herself and then so did everyone else on her team.

"Wow, that is a lot of names to remember. Pardon me if I get confused." The Police Chief blushed a little bit.

"Yeah, too many people for just one team, huh?" Matt waked by him, commenting cheerfully.

"And yet, not enough…" Emily muttered to herself.

"Huh?" JJ asked her, now glued to her side ever since the announcement that she was supposed to be Emily's assistant.

"Nothing." Emily smiled weakly. There was something on her mind.

They were given their own room where they could work in private. Reid and Luke set up the whiteboard while JJ went out to print photos of the victims.

Emily divided the team into groups and gave them their tasks. JJ and her would go see the family of the girl who just got kidnapped two days ago, while the others had to go visit the dump sites and talk to the medical examiner who had examined all three bodies so far.

"Uhm, excuse me, Agent Prentiss?" The Police Chief knocked on the door right when they were all about to split up and go their separate ways.

"We have just been informed that a body has been found…" The man said with sadness in his voice.

Emily tensed up, but before she could freak out, JJ's hand rested on her back. Nobody saw that gesture. Emily _felt_ it.

"Her purse was right beside her and we found her ID inside. She's the girl that got kidnapped recently." He informed them.

"Oh…" Emily sighed, mentally freaking out over the news that yet another young female life had been taken away.

"I'm right here." JJ whispered to her, making sure nobody else would overhear.

Emily nodded.

The Police Chief left the room and everyone was now looking at Emily, waiting for a new plan of action, since these news changed just about everything.

Emily opened her mouth, but no sound came out of it.

"Rossi and I are going to inform the parents." JJ stepped in, overshadowing Emily, without a hint of regret.

"Tara and Luke, you can still go check the dumpsites. Emily and Reid, I need you working on victimology here. Matt, you're going to talk to the medical examiner and see if you can find anything interesting that can help us out. After that, you're working on victimology with Emily and Reid. We'll see you in a couple of hours, tops." JJ spoke, sure of herself, like a true leader.

But on the inside, she was screaming, just like Emily.

"Can't believe you benched Prentiss like that." Rossi said to JJ when they got in the car.

"Well, she knew it was coming when she made me her shadow. I am not about to sit around and watch yet another case destroy her mentally." JJ said, still acting tough and decisive.

"And _you_?" Rossi had all the right questions. "What about _you_?"

JJ breathed in sharply, keeping her eyes on the road, now behind the steering wheel.

"I'll be fine…" She double checked her mirrors before starting the engine, which was not something she had ever done before. It was a sign of doubt, in Rossi's eyes.

"Only after _she_ gets back to being fine." She then added, her voice slightly cracking before she pulled out of the parking lot and drove off.

* * *

"How did it go?" Emily asked, as soon as Rossi and JJ joined them back at the police station.

"As expected – the parents are in shock. They kept denying it, they just couldn't wrap their heads around it." Rossi replied.

"Anything new on victimology?" JJ then asked, noticing new things written on the whiteboard.

"Uh, yes. We figured out that all four girls had good grades in school. They were different ages – the first one was sixteen, second one was seventeen, the third one was eighteen and this latest one was a freshman in college, so eighteen as well." Reid pointed out the first obvious thing about the victims.

"If he added one year to each victim, why did the last two have the same age? So age is not how he selects his victims. And neither is social status. We already knew that the first three victims were living a normal life, but this fourth one had a lavish home, two cars and a butler." Rossi added.

"Yeah, none of them share any particular visible similarity either – they all have different body types, hair color, facial structure…" Tara commented while looking at the photos.

Emily had spaced out, but in the chaos of pitching in, nobody had noticed that until the moment she walked over to the board and snatched the fourth girl's photo from it, where it had been put as a kidnapped victim.

Everyone's eyes turned to Emily.

She licked her lips, studying the girl's smile on the photo before she put it on the side of the board where the other deceased victims were placed.

For some reason, Emily could not take her eyes off of this girl's photo.

They all knew the reason.

JJ walked over to her, physically rotating her shoulders until Emily was now facing the team and away from the board.

"The UnSub has no idea we are in town, so let's keep a low profile." JJ spoke.

"No. Keeping it quiet would only give him the chance to grab another girl…" Emily disagreed vocally.

The team shrugged, most of them were looking at JJ, as if they were now siding with her.

Emily sighed. She had brought that upon herself.

"Fine. Low profile it is." Emily put her hands in the air in mock surrender.

"But don't let the possible future fifth girl's face haunt you in your dreams." She added, sending chills down everyone's spine.

"Well, if we stay quiet, we have more time to strategize. But that only means that there will be another kidnapping…and that one would be on us." JJ commented.

"Yeah, but what if it is a necessary means to an end?" Reid hated to admit it, but it wasn't such a bad idea. "If the UnSub knows we're here, he might stop altogether. And then when we leave, he will keep doing what he was doing. Now, if we play this smart, we can give him the chance to grab another girl, we can learn from his behavior, as we will be watching this time, and we can get the girl _and_ the UnSub."

"And if we fail, I'll simply make space for another photo up here." Emily pointed to the corner of the board, with the four victims.

JJ gave her a stern look.

"I'm sorry." Emily apologized immediately. "I hate to say this, but I have to agree. Our best chance now is letting him hunt." She finally agreed with JJ's plan.

"It is risky, though…" Rossi pointed out. "Are we all sure that we can handle the negative blowback of having gambled with a young girl's life?"

Not a single soul dared to give him an answer.

"We are looking at it from the wrong angle. We can keep this idea, as a backup plan. But for now we have five more days." Reid grabbed a pen and started working on a timeline.

"Four victims in four weeks. Each girl got kidnapped on a Tuesday night and ended up being tossed in a remote area six days later. On the seventh day, Tuesday night, another girl got kidnapped. This cycle repeated perfectly for the first three victims. But something changed with the fourth one. Why? She only got kidnapped this last Tuesday and now, Monday afternoon, she has already been found and she has been dead for a while. What's the urge to kill earlier now? Why not stick to the original timeline?" Reid commented while typing out his theory and making it more visual and understandable.

"Actually, the examiner who did her autopsy placed the time of death at around Saturday morning, which means she was already dead way before we even got called in…" He shot a glance at Emily, hoping that this piece of news, as distressing as it was, would help with her conscious a little bit.

And it did help.

"So, why kill her almost immediately? What is so different about her, then the other three girls?" Rossi said while staring at the board and not seeing anything that connected the first three, a thing that this fourth girl was missing.

"What if it isn't something she was missing? What if it was something she had in addition?" Emily pointed out. "You guys said she had a lavish home. What if the Unsub only needs middle-class girls to fulfill his fantasy, whatever it might be? What if this girl was superior than what he needed, hence he felt dominated, in a way?"

"That is a very good observation." Rossi declared. "But the urge to inflict pain is the only thing that gets him off. There are no reports on sexual abuse on any of the four victims, yet this last girl had been beaten up worse than the previous three. So, something about her made him tick. My guess is that the previous three were his experiments and now he is slowly building the confidence to go after his original target. He might intentionally be grabbing older girls, with each abduction. He probably feels insecure of his ability to take on his one true target, so he's gradually gaining more confidence by upping the age and the social status of his victims."

"We need Garcia on this." Emily pointed out and JJ was already putting on the loudspeaker.

"I'm here and I am ready and able and willing, my Kitty-Cats. Hit me with it!" Garcia's voice lightened the room up a bit.

"Garcia, I need you to check for any social media overlap between the girls. Were they friends? Did they have a friend in common? Did they have lunch at the same place? Have they dated the same boy? Anything that can connect them to one another or to someone else." Emily requested.

"Oh…" Garcia could be heard taking a loud sip of tea. "Uhm, I cherish your immense trust and ungrounded belief in me, but I am, sadly, not a magician. I cannot find a needle in a hay stack and this is bringing it to a whole new level. Whole lotta hay to search…"

"_Now_, Garcia!" Emily said before cutting the call short.

Yes, of course Garcia was a magician. If she could have Unit Chief Emily Prentiss rolling in the mud and laughing like a crazy person, right before an official disciplinary Hearing that could strip her from her gun and badge, then she could do just about _anything_ in life.

Ten minutes later, Garcia was calling them back.

"I found something!" She stated, not really surprising anyone.

They all knew that when Garcia had to come through, Garcia _always_ came through for the team.

"Listen to that. Victim number one went to some sort of a field trip with her school, a couple of months ago. Victim number three was there as well, but I have no data pointing to them knowing each other. Now, victim number two was a volunteer at a rescue mission for the woods around the city, while victim number four did the same, but for the river, at right about the same time." Garcia spoke quickly.

"This is giving me nothing to work with, Garcia." Emily claimed.

"No, I know. Which is why I dug deeper before daring to call you back, my Master." Garcia smirked.

Emily cringed. The last person who had called her his _Master_, had ended up blindfolded, gagged and handcuffed against the bed in a shady hotel, somewhere in Vegas, while Emily was on the first flight back home, not feeling the weekend, at all.

"All of these activities were supervised by the Mayor of the city." Garcia added, finally giving them a link between all four victims.

"I'm gonna need a name and an add-…" Emily started off, but Garcia was quicker.

"Name and address, license plate, make and model of his car, his wife's car and his elder son's car, along with the cat food he keeps buying every Wednesday at the local shop, has already been transferred to your accounts, three minutes and forty-five seconds ago. You are welcome. And if you shall need anything else, just rub my bottle gently, baby!" Garcia blew a kiss on the phone.

"Awh, it was so much more fun when Morgan was around to laugh at it!" She whined when nobody questioned her choice of words. And then she simply hung up.

"JJ, you and I are following up on the Mayor. Everyone else, I need you to keep an eye out for any new abductions. If we rub this guy the wrong way and if he is our UnSub, the power given to him as a city Mayor may give him the courage to strike one more time before being caught. Round up the police officers and instruct them to stay vigilant on the streets. Our victimology is now any girl between 19 and 20 years of age. Possibly one with higher social standing, if we follow Rossi's logic that he is upgrading slowly." Emily's suggestion met everyone's approval and this time JJ had nothing to say against it.

JJ then found herself in the car for the second time, but now she was in the passenger's seat. Emily had insisted on driving.

"Why would the Mayor of a city kill four people in cold blood?" JJ shook her head. This did not sit right with her.

"For the same reason he became Mayor – power, dominance." Emily commented, hitting the speed pedal like it was a feather.

"Woah, slow down!" JJ said, nearly freaking out.

Emily had always been a very stable driver. She would choose a pace and then stay with it along the journey. Sadly, it was only true when she was behind the wheel of a car and not of her own life. In life, Emily Prentiss was a rollercoaster of surprises. That was why JJ loved her so much.

"I just want to get this case over and done with." Emily said, still going hard on the gas pedal.

"Well, it won't get closed when you kill both of us, so would you, please, just freaking slow down!?" JJ's heart was racing, as this scene took her back in her memories, to a moment of her life that she was not too keen on remembering.

Emily eased down a little bit.

"Thank you!" JJ said, feeling all sweaty now "I remind you I have two young kids to go back home to!"

JJ quickly realized how hurtful her words could be, if taken out of context. And she was right – she noticed Emily's jaw clench.

"Em, I didn't mean to…" She offered half of an apology, knowing that kids were a touchy topic with Emily.

"It's okay." Emily said, acting absolutely calm. "I have nobody to go back home to. And it is my own fault." She added, sounding oddly pessimistic. It scared JJ a little bit, but then she decided to think of it as a repercussion of that case from last month.

* * *

"He's not our guy." Emily affirmed when her and JJ came back from the Mayor's office.

"Just like that? He's off the hook?" Reid challenged her.

"He had a solid alibi for two of the murders. He was on a business trip with plenty of people able to corroborate that. He admitted to being at all four events, where Garcia pointed his connection to the girls, but we have nothing other than that. He's a busy man, we took a glimpse of his schedule and it is safe to say he has been everywhere and can be linked to just about anyone in this city. But that doesn't make him a murderer." JJ clarified.

"Although, if looks could kill, poor Prentiss over here." JJ nudged Emily, who was still sporting that black dress and her curls were just as gorgeous as this morning, even though they were now a bit more natural and less defined.

"Oh? Do tell!" Tara jumped in quickly.

"Well, Mr. Mayor here was quite the fan of Miss Prentiss." JJ chuckled.

"Stop…" Emily rolled her eyes.

"He offered her a private tour of the city…how romantic." JJ smiled innocently.

"No, come on. He offered the BAU a tour around the city." Emily pointed out, since JJ was now making a huge deal out of this.

"And then he offered _you_ a drink when the case is closed." JJ raised an eyebrow challengingly. Emily wouldn't be able to deny that simple fact.

"Well…yeah." Emily laughed. "It figures, the only time when a guy seems interested in me is when I'm investigating hiss ass for murder."

"I miss working in an all-male environment…" Rossi muttered to himself, although he knew those words were not even true. He cherished every woman he had ever worked with. Well, most of them, anyway. But these specific women in his life right now, they had a special place in his heart.

"Back on topic. We got nothing from him. He was openly willing to assist in any way he can and he even offered to fund the investigation." Emily told them.

"Oh, can he actually do that?" Reid squirmed happily at the idea of being able to sleep in a single room for the duration of the trip.

"No. I remind you that we are FBI Agents, so we cannot take any financial aid from anyone outside the Bureau or that shall be considered a bribe. And we are not in the position to be investigated again…" Emily reminded him and he just retreated off to a corner of the room where he would stay quiet for the rest of the day, awaiting his inevitable final destiny – sleeping in a room with three other people.

Two hours later, Emily realized they were going nowhere. Victimology was still all over the place and their only link between the girls was as clean as Garcia's conscious…on most days.

"We should go get some rest. Tomorrow we can look at it with fresh eyes and clean heads." Emily suggested, rubbing her temples as this day was giving her a headache.

The case had first been handled by the local police as single, non-connected kidnappings, until bodies started to pop up. The only thing linking the bodies was the MO, the extremely sadistic way they were all killed. The case had then been offered to a different FBI field office, closer to Bellevue, but it got bounced between Units that did not want to sign up on it, before it ended up on Emily's desk.

It was dark, it was twisted, it seemed impossible to crack and obviously nobody would want to put their name on what was set to be a failure from the get go. But Emily would not back down. This was the first case she was handed after a certain other one she believed she had handled very carelessly, and she would be damned if she turned it down. Whatever the odds.


	59. Dibs On Cuddling With Prentiss Tonight

** CHAPTER 59**

_**DIBS ON CUDDLING WITH PRENTISS TONIGHT**_

"Okay, I'm out." Reid cringed the moment the door to the boys' room opened and he saw his worst nightmare staring back at him from the other side of the room.

"Oh, cool, man!" Luke and Matt fist bumped, already happy with their room.

Rossi chose not to react.

Luke had to run after Reid, in order to drag him back, as he was now walking down the hallway.

"Dude, come on. It's like high-school all over again! Four dudes, one room, some minor drinking may be going on, eh?" Luke said, reminiscing of his past.

"I was done with high-school by the age of fourteen, so I don't know about _your_ experiences, but mine were a bit different. Also, it is prohibited by law to drink under the age of twenty-one, at least in America, so it would have definitely _not_ been ok to do so in high-school." Reid shifted uncomfortably, standing in the middle of the room.

"What's bugging you, my man?" Luke asked, this time being a little more serious.

"That's…" Reid stuttered.

"Those are bunk beds!" He said, pointing at the beds.

"Yup." Luke nodded.

"They are dangerous!" Reid protested, like a child.

"Reid, you can run after a serial killer, armed with nothing but your brain, but you cannot sleep in a bunk bed? Come on, now!" Luke tried to argue, but it was a lost cause.

Reid moved towards the bed and examined it from all sides.

"Every bunk bed must have a warning label that advises against placing children under six years of age in the upper bunk. If the bunk bed is taller than thirty inches, it must have a continuous guardrail on the wall side of bed. This one does not!" He asseverated.

"You are also not six, Reid." Rossi came by to try and knock some sense into this boy.

"I know. But what if I was? If the factory that produced this piece of furniture does not care about a six-year old's safety, how can I be sure they care about mine? Also, what if it caves in under the weight of grown men?" Reid stated and Rossi hated to admit it, but he was not keen on the bunk beds, for the same two reasons.

"Well, if it helps in any way, I can assure you grown men have slept on these beds and nothing bad has happened…other than a few kids being conceived…" Matt said, coming to the sad conclusion that could be applied to pretty much every hotel room in the world.

"Eww!" Reid squealed like a little girl, regretting having touched the surface of the bed during his little prior investigation.

"Come on. Don't be silly. May I remind you that we have a serial killer to catch?" Rossi reminded them the more severe question on hand.

Matt and Luke tossed a coin and Matt was upset that Luke once again won the top bunk.

Rossi and Reid just looked at each other before they dragged the mattresses out of their bunk bed and placed them on the floor.

Reid contained himself from pointing out that he was now going to be closer to germs. He was just happy to not be sleeping while levitating, which is what bunk beds represented to him, in his own messed up mind.

* * *

"Ladies…" JJ said, walking in the triple girls' room.

"Yes, Madam Jareau!" Tara walked in after her, already pulling a glittery throw blanket out of her carry on.

"Mood?" JJ turned to face Emily, who had a beautiful candle in one hand and a small loudspeaker in the other.

"Glam?" Tara asked and JJ set her bag down, so she can comfortably pull things out of it.

Three nourishing face masks; three pairs of disposable home slippers that she had once stolen from a fancier hotel, back in the days when the BAU could afford one; a pair of tweezers, because – brows; lip-scrub and lip balm; three Christmas-themed travel mugs, because that was all she could find the night when she had prepared her Go Bag, a month ago; battery-operated led lights in the shape of a gun, because JJ was a girly girl, but with a tough side to her…also because Will had found it to be cute to get her those for one of their Saturday dinner dates recently; and then randomly – one of Mickey's soft toys that had ended up in her bag, by mistake. JJ smiled, holding it to her chest.

"Alright, Mary Poppins…is that all?" Tara said with eyes wide opened.

"No." JJ grinned. "I also have a spare underwear set, but I'm surely not showing you that."

"Oh, is it the one Will got you recently?" Emily asked curiously.

JJ nodded, now blushing.

"Out!" Tara commanded.

"Now!" Emily reinforced that command.

JJ shrugged, pulling out a two piece set of underwear. Black lace with red and white lining.

"Wow, you got yourself a man with some taste!" Emily smirked. She was borderline obsessed with that set of underwear.

"This is possibly the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. And I've been through my phase of obsessive collecting of sexy underwear." Tara shared.

"Been?" Emily looked at her and started laughing. "What do you mean _been_?"

Tara looked at her, a bit confused.

"Yeah, Emily has always had a thing for sexy lingerie. She judged everyone who ever gave up on it. So, you're on her bad side right now…" JJ smirked.

"Which is great, because I call dibs on cuddling with Prentiss tonight." JJ then added, sticking her tongue at Tara and placing her bag on one side of the double bed in the room, forcing Tara to now take the single bed.

"Ugh." Tara pretended to be upset, just to play along with JJ's game, but truth was – she did not care where or who she slept with, as long as she was able to sleep well.

"Face mask, Ladies?" Emily said, being the referee between both of her friends.

"Ah! Not before…" JJ then pulled out their favorite robes.

"Oh, yes, my Pink Ladies…we shall commence!" Emily said, laughing out loud as she put her pink robe on and turned around, flashing the 'Prentiss' name, written on the back of it with white rhinestones.

"I feel a bit guilty for doing this without Garcia…" JJ frowned for a second.

Garcia had bought the girls tickets to go see Grease, the Musical, a year ago. Ever since that night the girls had been obsessed with being the Pink Ladies when they were on their own, so much that Garcia had then gone out of her way to find the perfect light robes, in pink, and then customize them with rhinestones, writing everyone's name on the back. The girls always wore the robes when they were having their occasional girls' night out, or rather _in_, just drinking, watching a movie and having a good time.

"We should send her a selfie." Emily suggested, seemingly in a much better mood than before.

They posed for about seventy-four photos before they ended up taking one last picture, the one they ended up actually sending to Garcia.

_"__Aww, you geeks!"_ Garcia texted back, with all the heart-shaped emoticons she could find.

She then sent them a photo of herself and her cat and Emily did most definitely catch that male blazer, just randomly hanging on the back of a chair, in the far left end of the photo. She smirked, knowing that Garcia was having a good time, as well.

They put on their face masks and started discussing everything, nothing and just about anything that had nothing to do with their job. Work was a taboo topic during their girly evenings, even when they were currently active on a case. They had all made a promise to each other to unwind, to leave it all behind and to hide under a face mask and their pink glittery robes, for as long as they could, just to gain more energy to face the daemons the day that was to come. And they had always made good on that promise.

The best thing about it was – the boys had no idea!

"So, Prentiss…" JJ started off, holding her mug full of peach juice and sipping on it as if it was expensive champagne.

"Are you taking the Mayor up on his offer?" JJ asked with an innocent smile.

"Oh, God no!" Emily cringed.

"Why not? Was he not cute?" Tara asked, but she was looking at JJ, because she wanted to hear the truth and Emily was definitely not going to give her that.

"Mmh, yeah…" JJ recalled. "No. Not really." She then laughed.

"Really, he was not my type, at all." Emily shrugged, taking a sip of her own mug, suddenly feeling her lips very dry.

"Oh yeah?" Tara winked at JJ and it was about to get complicated for Emily.

"What's your type then?" JJ asked, immediately understanding what Tara was communicating to her with that wink.

"And since when do you even have a type?" Tara added, clinking JJ's glass victoriously. Watching Emily squirm uncomfortably was the best source of entertainment they could possibly imagine.

Emily shrugged and looked down to the carpet.

"Oh, so you can discuss the lingerie that my husband bought me, but you can't dish it when it comes to _your_ private business? Come on, Prentiiiiiissssss…" JJ trailed off in her sing-songy voice.

"I have nothing to say." Emily sighed.

"We just want to know your type. I bet it's someone with curls. Blonde, curly hair, piercing deep blue eyes…" Tara suggested.

"Hey, that's basically my son!" JJ cringed so badly.

Emily took another sip, wishing it was wine. Or pure alcohol. Either way, she'd be okay with it.

"I see her type as tall, dark, mysterious, well-built, a man with authority, someone with deep, manly voice, someone possibly with an accent that would make her forget her own name…" JJ commented and with each personalization she made to what she believed would be Emily's type, Emily felt a new dagger thrown right into her heart, twisted around and then taken out, only to be thrown right back in. That was basically Richard!

She chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

Oh, Emily had found someone who made her want to forget all about Emily Prentiss, alright.

"Aww, don't pout. You are amazing and I am sure that one day you will find your Mysterious Prince, the one who will sweep you off your feet and make you forget who you are." JJ added, all in good humor.

In fact, she was the one who rooted for Emily's happiness the most. Emily had always felt a bit more comfortable talking to Morgan, about guys, but it had always been JJ who had spent every waking moment of her life, wishing Emily the same happiness and family that she went back home to every single night.

"Mhm." Emily grunted, more ironically than approvingly.

"Until then, I'm going to continue setting you up with just about anyone I want to." JJ chuckled, pouring herself a second mug full of juice and really starting to believe that it was champagne. The power of suggestion and self-belief!

"Well, history remembers that one incident when you set me up with a guy who then flirted with _you_, in front of your own husband, so…" Emily had been waiting for the best time to rub this failure in JJ's face and the time was now.

"Oh, that was embarrassing." JJ laughed out loud and quickly told the story to Tara, who started laughing along with her.

"You are out of your mind!" Tara said, unsure if she was speaking about JJ or Emily. Or rather – both.

"Eh, it did serve a good purpose, though." JJ shot a glance at Emily who was now smirking and trying to hide it.

"Alright. Yes, ultimately it did." Emily gave in and told Tara the ending of the story, where she had met the bouncer and ended up having a fast-paced relationship with him.

"But that only lasted a couple of weeks!" Tara shook her head disapprovingly.

"Darling, trust me – every second of it was worth it." Emily was now beaming.

"Ugh, ya'll just making me want to get right back into dating again." Tara sat on the side of the bed, crossing her arms defensively.

"Why not?" JJ smiled at her.

"Yes, please do, so that _this_ one would stop bugging me about my own intimate life details." Emily sighed, shooting a glance at JJ. "Or the lack there of." She added, with an even bigger sigh.

"Who? Me?" JJ pointed at herself dramatically. "Never!"

That addition made Emily want to hide under the covers, moreover because she knew it was true. JJ would keep on pushing it. She would also be extremely happy to hear what Emily did during that week off…which was exactly why Emily intended to never speak a word about it in front of JJ. Or anyone else. Morgan knew, but he had now safely taken their little secret back to…well, wherever his new identity lived.

* * *

"Hey there, sexy."

"I could be your father!" Victor replied with a cringe.

"I could call you Daddy…" The waitress, the same girl he had spoken to two days ago, was now all over him from the second she saw him entering the bar again.

"Ok, two things: I am not interested!" He said defensively, keeping his distance.

"That's one thing. What's the other?" She tried to place her hand on his chest, but he blocked it out.

"Second one is that I will _never_ be interested in a girl who looks like she is underage."

"Oh, you are such a buzzkill. I figured, with all the nasty guys who come here because of me, I might as well take _you_ up on it, I mean, you do look damn good yourself…"

"Please stop! And there is nothing to take me up on. I haven't suggested anything and I won't do so. Snap out of it, young girl."

He was getting irritated. Maybe returning to that bar was a mistake. She had been more than clear the first time – Richard had never stepped foot there.

Victor turned around, intending to leave, but that was when he heard her voice again.

"Damn, I regret not hitting on _him_ earlier! Why did I have to wait around, hoping _you'd_ show up?" She said cheekily.

"Him?" In two seconds, Victor was sitting on a stool by the bar, eager to hear what she had to say.

"Yea, your hot friend from the photo you showed me before."

"He was here? When? Where did he sit?" He shot his best questions at her.

"Ah, not so fast. First, you have to give me something…"

"Fine, how much do you want?" His right hand reached for his pocket, to grab his wallet.

This time it was her who blocked him out and blatantly invited herself to sit right next to him.

Her hand inevitably trailed down his chest and he shivered. This was so not fair. Why wasn't she like all the rest of them, wanting just the money?

"I'm married." He stated, flashing his ring finger at her.

"I'm discrete." She whispered, now leaning way too much.

If he could feel her breath on him, this was wrong. And if he could see everything that her tiny little top was failing to hide, this was most definitely wrong, too.

"You do a bit more than just mixing drinks around here, don't you?"

"Who's asking? Are you a cop?" The girl giggled.

"Do I look like a cop?" He smirked at her.

"Honestly? You look like a drug dealer. Or a millionaire. Either way…" Her hand went just a little further down as she added to her statement. "I'd do you."

Victor was awfully careful not to break her hand with what he did next. With one swift motion, the girl was now facing the nearby wall, on her feet, with her hand twisted behind her back and with Richard hovering on top of her.

"Listen carefully. I need to know where he sat and what he drank. And then I need you to go take a cold shower and maybe go to church someday. Throwing yourself at middle aged men is not what you should be doing with your life." He said silently, trying not to make a scene. After all, he had to go unnoticed.

"Where did he sit and what did he drink?" He asked one more time.

"Over there and he had red wine." This time, she replied.

"Where? Near the window?" Victor shot a glance to where she was pointing.

Sitting near the window would mean that something unexpected had happened and that Richard was gaining information.

"No, no. That table, where those two guys are now." She pointed out two guys who looked like they rode a Harley and drank vodka like it was water.

"Crap!" Victor groaned.

Choosing an inner table meant that Richard was in immediate danger and in need of back-up. In that case, whoever was at the bar that night, would have to make contact and pretend to be forming a friendship with Richard, over drinks.

However, Richard was no longer there, so that plan was no longer eligible.

Moreover, he had ordered a red wine – red, an obvious symbolism for blood. It was like Richard knew the danger he was in, but there was nobody there to help him out when he needed them to.

"When did he leave?"

"Like, an hour ago, when those three guys came in."

"What guys?"

"I don't know who they are, but I've seen them around. One of them gave me a huge tip once, for when I gave him a lap dan-…"

Richard put his hand over her mouth. He did not want to hear the details.

"Did he seem like he knew them?"

"Not really. I mean, maybe, but those guys just barged in and dragged his fine sugar daddy ass out of here in seconds."

"Was there a fight?"

"Is it a fight if three men jump a guy who does not even throw a punch back? Or did they simply beat his ass up?"

That girl had nerve. If only she knew who she was talking to, but most importantly – whom she was talking _about_.

"He didn't fight back?" Victor asked in disbelief.

"No, not at all. He just let them beat him up and drag him outside. He's probably somewhere along the road, dead or something." She said casually.

"And you didn't call the police!?" Victor lost it and yelled at her.

"Not exactly legal here, hello?" She pointed out, confirming his suspicion that she was, indeed, underage.

"You better pray that he's alive, or else _you'd_ end up on the side of the road. Dead!"

The girl gasped loudly. This did not sound like a threat. It sounded a lot like a promise.

"Call me if anything new happens around here." He put a card inside the pocket of her shorts.

"Also, tell _anyone_ you've spoken to me and you're dead before I even get to you." He added before he left the bar.

The girl was now shivering. She walked back behind the bar and after serving a few new customers their drinks, she finally allowed herself to check out what was written on that business card.

The second she laid eyes on it, she knew she was in trouble.

"Oh my God!" She said out loud after reading his name, his job title and his work place. "What have I gotten myself into!?"


	60. You're Holding Back

** CHAPTER 60**

_**YOU'RE HOLDING BACK**_

"And I am officially jobless now." Angie announced as she found Bryan in the crowd, sitting outside for lunch break.

"Why? What did you do?" Bryan asked, super casually.

"Why would you assume I must have done something?" Angie raised an eyebrow. It was like Bryan automatically knew she had screwed up and gotten fired because of that.

He mirrored her raised brow and she backed off. "Yeah, I get your point." She chuckled while sitting by his side.

"Right, so the guy I work for, at the Ballistics division, he told me they just switched to magnetic cards instead of paper coupons. And, obviously, the cards have a name and a photo on them. So, moral of the story is – dude can't keep on giving me his food tickets anymore. God, I hate technology!" She allowed herself to whine since food was a big deal.

"Oh…" A frown appeared on Bryan's face.

"Before you say it – I don't want your help. Thanks." She said, a bit snappy.

Her words made him roll his eyes. She was way too proud to be helped.

"Well, you have fifty coupons, you should be good until you find a new job." He suggested.

"I _had_ fifty, more than a week ago. I don't know if you've noticed, but I eat. Like, twice a day, if I'm lucky. So…yeah…" Her head leaned back, allowing the sun to hit her face. She'd milk those last rays of sunshine before the Autumn would hit Quantico hard.

Bryan chose not to reply. Wise choice.

* * *

"I feel like we're in an alternate universe all of a sudden…" Angie commented during their next training session.

It was combat and she had been excited to start it, but something was holding her back.

"Come on, Trainee. You're slacking." The guy – a huge guy with lots of muscle mass, yelled at her when she spaced out.

Her hands swung in the air, but then ultimately she was sick and done with it, so she let him sprawl her on the floor.

"Dude, you gave up so fast!" Bryan was surprised, and not in a good way.

"Guess I'm just not a fighter." Angie shrugged, sitting on a bench, on the side of the training range.

"You kind of _have_ to be one, if you want to stay." He informed her of the obvious.

"Whatever…" Something about this class was rubbing her the wrong way.

Bryan decided that _this_, along with tactical driving, was Angie's weak point, so he didn't want to tease her any further.

Training went on and Angie kept to the side, not volunteering for a single thing, just quietly observing.

The guy who trained them noticed that, now that there were fewer people left in the Academy. Dan was right – they had double the attention on them now.

"Hey!" The guy called out after Angie when the class was done.

At first, she did not even know he was calling _her_, out of everyone, so she paid no attention to him.

It was only after he called her 'bow-chick' that she realized he had been trying to get _her_ attention.

And yet, she gave him none.

"Yo-…" He started to speak as soon as he walked up to her, making a colossal mistake.

She felt his hand on her shoulder and something struck a nerve. Without even thinking about her actions, she grabbed his hand and two seconds later he was on the floor.

"Angela? More like Devila!" Bryan scoffed, watching her own that instructor.

"Shoot…" She muttered to herself, realizing she had crossed the line between Angela and Insanity one more time.

"Right…" The instructor said, picking himself up.

He was a huge man, yes. But he never thought she might react _this_ way to his simple attempt to go talk to her after class, so he wasn't in the mental state to defend himself. And that was where she got him good.

"If only you had done that in class." He added, not sure how he felt about the youngest Trainee owning him in front of everyone.

"I'm sorry, I guess…" Angie shrugged, offering her hand, to help him stand up.

He did not even touch that hand.

"Class dismissed." He called out.

"A word?" He then turned to face her again.

Oh, he seemed pissed.

Angie made a sign to Bryan, to wait for her outside.

"You're holding back." He called her out immediately, as soon as everyone else left.

"All due respect, Sir, but we are here to learn. We are not supposed to already know everything." She smiled, only to fool him.

"No, no." Shaking his head, he was not fooled by her. "You are holding back on what you have. I just have to figure out why and then build you up from there."

"Why not just build me up from scratch?" She suggested.

"Because you are way above that scratch by now." Something about the arrogance in his voice, the way he was owning her now, with words, made her extremely irritated.

"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just here to try and learn how to fight, if I ever need to use that skill."

"This might be it. You prefer using a gun, don't you?" He kept trying to figure out why she was acting dumb.

"Well, if I was on the field, surrounded by huge men like you and an option between fighting them with my bare hands or blowing their brains out with a shotgun, I'd surely choose the latter." She stated, her hand nervously fidgeting by her side, playing with the hem of her workout top.

"You surely didn't have a problem taking _me_ down and, like you said, I am a big guy." She hated him, she hated the way he was testing her and she hated that he was trying to read her like an open book.

"That's only because you took-…" She started off, but he finished that thought for her.

"Took you off guard?" He smirked.

She nodded, being more than busted. This man was smart.

"Why do you put on that show?" He continued with his questions and, God, she just wanted to punch him.

"I like acting." A smile appeared on her face.

Usually it helped fool people. This time, it did not.

He swung at her so hard and so fast that, if she were the airhead that she pretended to be, she'd be on her way to the ER immediately.

Her hand blocked his punch with the speed of a lightning, counter-attacking him and with two swift motions he landed on the floor once more.

"Impressive." He smirked, this time happy to be laying on his back. First time had been a surprise. Second time had been a reassurance for him. "Krav Maga?"

She shrugged, unable to give him an answer.

"Who taught you how to fight?" He raised an eyebrow, analyzing the technique that she had used to overpower him. This was something he had scheduled to teach in the Academy, a few weeks later.

"Life." She continued her little show and by now he knew that he wasn't getting words out of her.

It was okay. All he wanted to get out of her was anger, emotion, the kind of feelings and technique that would make her an even better fighter.

"You better watch out, Trainee." He smirked, getting up on his own, one more time. "I'm coming after you." He added.

"Oh, I can't wait." She smirked as well, her innocent smile now gone and all that she showed before leaving the training field was confidence. If he had figured her out, then she might as well own up to it and make a cool exit.

* * *

"I can't believe we have two more classes by the end of the day. Is it still Monday?" Angie groaned in annoyance once she joined Bryan on their way to the next class.

None of them had taken a shower since the morning and this was pissing them off.

"I'm not sure." He laughed.

That day was longer than expected, now that their schedule had a million things on it.

"What's next?" She opened her schedule and finally had some good news. "Oh, cool! Seger's class!"

"That hot one who teaches us about dead bodies?" Bryan suddenly felt a little better about his day, as well.

"Can you, please, stop drooling over every female teacher?" She sighed and walked over to the Auditorium. "Well, on the bright side, we finally get to sit on our butts for the next few hours. No sweating involved. I'm down with that."

On their way there, they stopped by the bathrooms for a third outfit change of the day. Angie sprayed herself with deodorant, wanting nothing more than to be able to take a quick 5-minute shower. She always liked being fresh, it made her feel good. And at that moment, she felt sweaty and disgusting.

"Hello class." SSA Clara Seger walked in, waving at everyone.

She looked even more beautiful now, compared to their first class. Angie kept checking out her make-up, wondering if it were even realistic to think that, once an Agent, one could maintain a look _so_ on-point. And that lipgloss that she had asked about... Angie did not stop staring at it, as creepy as that might have looked.

Agent Seger carried out a very informative lecture, one filled with details and techniques. She only had little time to explain everything, so she came prepared this time.

"Now, remember how I told you when we first met, that I had spaced out and forgotten to prepare your reading list?" She said at the end of the class.

"Well, this is it now." Her finger pointed to the last slide of her presentation, where two books were illustrated.

"It's only two books, but they are quite big, so I'm sure most of you will hate me anyway." She said in a sweet, innocent tone, making it hard for anyone to believe that they were about to hate her. Which, they were about to. Those books were hard to read and even harder to understand. And the exam she had prepared for them was impossible to pass, unless one would have given 150% of themselves during class.

Clara called a few people to come join her for a discussion after class and Angie was not mad about not being one of them. She needed a shower and nothing was going to stand between her and the running hot water now, before their last class would start.

As Agent Seger waited for her chosen Trainees to gather their stuff and to join her at her teacher's desk in the Auditorium, she briefly walked by Angie's desk.

"You are welcome." She smirked, her left hand allowing an object to slide down Angie's desk, before ending up right in front of the girl.

"Holy shit!" Angie squealed, grabbing the thing like a kid on Christmas morning.

Clara then walked off, as if nothing had happened.

"Can't you do that on our way to the dorm?" Bryan hurried her, when he saw her taking her sweet time at her desk.

"Yo, you can't hurry beauty!" Angie announced while allowing the soft lipgloss brush slide across her lips. It tasted like cherry and it had a faint red color to it, but other than that, it was shiny and moisturizing and it was everything her lips had ever dreamed of.

She shot a glance at Agent Seger, now sporting her new lipgloss, one that she would not stop using for the next few weeks, mouthing a silent _'thank you'_ to the woman before she ran after Bryan, who was in no mood to sit and wait for Angie to get her glow on.


	61. It's Tuesday, That's What It Is

** CHAPTER 61**

_**IT'S TUESDAY, THAT'S WHAT IT IS!**_

"Good morning, team." Emily greeted everyone when they gathered for breakfast in a small café, right across the street from their hotel.

"The morning would be good when we finish the case and go back home, so we can sleep in our own beds." Rossi commented, feeling all of his bones ache from sleeping on the floor. The mattress had helped a bit, but it was still hard and uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry…" Emily trailed off. There was nothing she could do about it.

"On the bright side, there are no news since last night. And, right now, no news is good news for us." She added, opening a file folder and reading the case info one more time.

Every victim had gone missing on a Tuesday night and had been found dead, by the next Monday. So if the UnSub stuck to his usual routine, a girl would go missing anywhere between lunch time and midnight, that day. And since the previous victim had been dead way before she was found, that only meant that his next victim had very slim chances of survival, hours, if not minutes; unless the BAU found her immediately, which at this point sounded naïve to even think of, as they had basically no information to work with, when individualizing the killer.

It was obvious to anyone that Emily had a tremendous dark cloud of pressure, hovering inches above her head, threatening to pour down on her, if the case went badly. And she was now, more than obviously, stressing out over every little detail.

"Aah, coffee!" Reid muttered awkwardly, allowing at least one thing to make him happy – the taste of his favorite drink.

They sat there for about an hour, working, because even when they were recharging, their minds were still at work – analyzing, scheming, thinking. Emily asked to hear everyone's theory on the UnSub's motive, even if it was too early to tell. She then constructed an idea of her own, using a few of the things her colleagues have said. It was against procedure to come up with an idea and then start looking for clues to support your idea, but she was willing to let go of her initial deduction, if additional information came their way. For now, she needed to have the security blanket of an idea, in the back of her head.

* * *

"Welcome back, Agents." The Chief of Police greeted them when they walked in the police station.

He let them know that his officers were going through old case files, trying to find a link between those and this new case. Reid offered his help, being able to read quickly and to analyze words and situations better than anyone.

JJ found herself going back to her media liaison days – mentally debating whether they should go public about the case, or wait a little longer. It was Tuesday now and someone was bound to be kidnapped, if the killer stuck to his routine.

"Talk to me, JJ." Emily pulled her away for a second, noticing her odd behavior.

"Okay, don't cut my head for this, but I think we might be making a mistake by not going public. And yes, I know it was my idea and I went against your idea as a Chief and now that you backed me up, I'm backing out and-…" JJ spoke quickly.

"You're hyperventilating!" Emily put her hand on JJ's, making her stop. "Breathe!" She reminded her.

"I still believe it is better to stay quiet about the FBI being in town, but I think the general public should be notified on what is going on." JJ shrugged.

"We can't tell all women to stay at home, JJ. Coming out with a statement now would only cause massive panic. We have nothing to warn them about." Emily disagreed passionately.

"Something about this case is off…" JJ whispered.

"It's our first case after, you know…" Emily sat beside her. "And it's a huge case. A complicated one. It's normal to panic."

"Just remember that when we're out there and you freeze." JJ reminded her.

"I won't freeze…" Emily trailed off.

After a second of thinking, she realized that she was bound to freeze. It was inevitable. Everybody knew that she was going to freeze during their first case. Or maybe the second? The third? Subconsciously she knew it, too. Wasn't that why she made JJ her Assistant for the case? She trusted her on the field and she knew JJ would make the right call, when the team needs someone who is not, well, frozen.

* * *

"Uhm, guys?" Matt called out for everyone.

He had stepped out to grab himself yet another coffee from the main room, when he heard something on TV.

Everyone walked out of their own lair, listening carefully.

Somehow, the news stations have figured out that the FBI was in town and now everybody knew.

"Conference?" JJ suggested, shooting a glance at Emily.

"No." Emily said firmly. "Until we have something, our only response to this is 'No Comment'. Am I clear?"

Everyone nodded, even JJ, although hers was a very insecure nod.

An hour later, it was impossible to hold out any longer. People were now circling around the police station, screaming and demanding answers.

Assessing the situation and realizing they were now unable to do their job, since they couldn't even crack a window open, let alone go out and explore, Emily finally gave up, giving JJ the Go.

JJ then walked out and stood up at the front steps of the police station, surrounded by only policemen. She had insisted on only showing _her_ face, while the rest of her team could still have their identity protected. It was the best compromise between both options.

She made an announcement that the FBI was in town to help investigate two recent kidnappings, saying nothing about the four victims that had already turned up, dead; thus intentionally undermining the UnSub and his actions.

"Are we sure this is the best way to handle this?" Rossi raised an eyebrow skeptically, watching JJ on Live TV, from the comfort of their little room in the police station.

"One way to find out…" Emily was holding up like a champion.

She was scared, yes, but deep down inside she had immense trust in JJ and she would not go against her decisions.

JJ mostly listened to everyone's concerns, and only spoke when asked a direct question. Even then, she aimed at turning the story into what _she_ wanted to communicate, not what people wanted to hear.

"We do not have cause to believe that both kidnappings are connected, but just in case, we are here to assist the Bellevue police. There is no need to panic, everything is under our control." JJ ended off her speech and wanted nothing more than to get back inside and breathe.

* * *

"Agent Jareau, we would like to-…" The Police Chief spoke as he entered the FBI lair, but he did not spot JJ there.

"She's not back yet." Reid informed him while doing a crossword puzzle.

"Really?" The Police Chief questioned. "We wrapped up ten minutes ago."

"She must have stayed for some extra coverage. She does that. Or she tries to individuate the parents of the victims and then goes to talk to them. _So_ JJ." Matt explained.

"No, no. She was very clear about this – once the press conference was over, she wanted to go back inside and not answer any more questions, not by the media, not by the people and surely not by my police officers. This was her request." The Police Chief said.

Emily sighed. Had she put a bit too much pressure on JJ by making her head of this operation?

"Well, she's not here." Tara shrugged, her eyes darting up from the victim board just for a second.

"And she's not out there either…" The Police Chief added.

"Wait, did anyone escort Agent Jareau back inside the building?" Emily asked, remembering the end of the conference.

It had been chaos. People were right in JJ's face, standing inches away. Cameras were rolling and everyone was screaming, with their hands in the air. It looked like a hard rock concert to her.

"No." The man replied.

He hadn't really thought of the fact that, despite being an FBI Agent, this woman needed an escort anyway.

Emily's heart skipped a beat. And then another one. And another one.

She turned to face the whiteboard, a tantalizing realization hitting her all of a sudden, as her eyes laid on the timeline.

When she turned to face everyone, a few seconds later, her face was pale and her lips dry.

"Wow, Emily…?" Rossi noticed that first and he took the extra few steps to go stand by her side. "What is it?"

"It's Tuesday, that's what it is!" Emily's lower lip quivered and her chest went up and down, in rhythm of her attempts to breathe.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Reid jumped out of his seat. "No, this can't be happening. No, no, no! Not JJ!" He said, his eyes about to burst.

* * *

"Who the Hell are you?"

"Why were you so interested in our operation?"

"Why were you spying on us?"

"Who do you work for?"

"Are you a damn cop?"

Those and so many other questions were being directed to a man, chained to a huge industrial pipe, in a basement, who-knows-where.

After each question, he had five seconds to reply and when he ultimately failed to do so, for all the questions, he received a punishment.

A few minutes into his interrogation, his face was purple and his lips busted. But that couldn't even compare to the hits the rest of his body had received.

And yet – he simply did not seem to care. He sat there, holding his chin up to the best of his abilities, and he'd give those bastards an evil grin after each punch.

"Narc?" Someone suggested, but he just smirked one more time.

"Oh, we love narcs around here. Last guy is still out there…" He pointed at a large water reservoir that could be seen from the tiny little window in that basement.

"Wanna go keep him company?" He laughed, pointing a gun at his hostage's forehead.

"Bet his dead ass would be much more intellectually challenging than you, bunch of low lives." The hostage finally spoke and made the three men who held him there, take turns to punish him for being so brave.

"Who do you work for?"

He did not reply. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, as if he was saying he worked for a Higher power.

"What, you a Priest or something?"

He smirked one more time. By now it was getting harder to form any shape with his busted lips, but he'd push through the pain and he'd smirk because he knew this was, ultimately, his best weapon against those men.

"Better!" He replied, this time choking a little, his gag reflex making him spit out a whole bunch of blood.

"Search him!" One of the three men commanded.

They checked his clothes. He didn't carry a phone with him and he had no personal objects, not even a wallet with a card inside. Nothing.

"Stand up!" The other man commanded and he complied, after battling some more pain in his lower abdomen.

Damn, those men knew how to punch.

"Got something!" The third man said victoriously, snatching a card from this guy's back pocket.

"Holy freaking shit, bro…"

All three men froze when they read the card.

The kidnapped guy could see the regret on their faces and he just kept on smirking like the Bad Ass Boss that he was. Oh, this was about to be very entertaining.

"Dude, what the f-…" One of them muttered again.

"No, man…this must be a mistake…"

"Shiiit…"

They were still taking turns, yet this time it wasn't about hurting the man standing before them, but regretting life and all of their recent decisions.

"What the Hell are you still smirking about!?"

"Oh, nothing. Just…enjoying this. Why? Is it forbidden for a man to enjoy another man's failure? Times three, at that." The victim said coyly.

"Man, we're dead. Should we split and just let him rot in here?"

"Don't be dumb! They'd come get him. We can't leave him here alive."

"Yeah, he's already seen our faces."

"So, we finish him off and let him have his intellectual conversation with the dude in the water?"

"Oh, you see, based on my predictions on the temperature of that water outside, it wouldn't take longer than 24, maximum 26 hours, for my body to float to the surface. And then you're really screwed, because by that time my guys will have a full on search party for me and it would be a matter of a simple laboratory analysis, before they get you and dump you right in that water, skulls smashed and all that. But my people would be smart enough to put weights on you, so that you won't float. Hey, I'm just saying…" The kidnapped guy spoke so damn calmly, as if this was an everyday thing for him.

"What kind of analysis could possibly tell people who we are?"

"DNA analysis. Your friend over there…" The kidnapped one pointed at the dumbest guy from their little crew. "He really should not have bit me earlier. His saliva is deep within that bit wound now and there is nothing you can do about it. The cold water will make my skin shrink, thus the wound would close itself and the saliva would be well preserved and ready for DNA testing when they find me. And since this is not your first criminal offence, all three of you would surely already have a record, with DNA and fingerprints, back in the National Criminal Records. It's only a matter of minutes until your ugly ass photo pops up on the screen of some low life cop." He then whistled. Out of all things he could have done, minutes before his death, this guy had the nerve to whistle to a song that he really liked.

It threw the three men off guard.

"Shit, we can't leave him here."

"We can't bring him with us! What if someone recognizes him?"

"He's right. And also wrong. I mean, people know my name, but not many have seen my face. And you three doofuses certainly did not know who you were dealing with. Are you scared yet?" The kidnapped man asked, giving them scary looks.

"No!" The guy who seemed to be in charge, replied.

"That's too bad. You really _should_ be scared. My men like to skin our victims before they trash them. It's like…call it our ritual, our signature, if you may." The kidnapped one was surely a freak.

The three men would not confess, but they were scared out of their minds.

"How about we hit him in the head, like really hard, and leave him here and hope he'd have amnesia when he wakes up?"

"Plausible suggestion, dumb ass. However, it could really work in your favor if _you_ were the ones faking amnesia. A very thorough study has found that 29% of dudes sentenced to life in jail had claimed memory loss and out of those only 31,4% were convicted of homicide. So, your chances at survival here are as good as your acting skills, really. Although, it is quite an old study, so I guess the percentage must have changed by now. Oh well, either way, you're screwed." The man sighed, trying to shrug but feeling a certain sharp pain.

"Who do you think you are, like, better than us?"

"Oh, I know for a fact that I am way better than you. It would have sucked to die at the hands of someone smarter. I mean, I'd be pissed. And right now…I am so not pissed at you three, idiots." The man continued speaking slowly and surely.

With every second spent in his presence, the three guys were growing more and more confused and scared.

"Alright, smart ass. We'll figure you out later. We have somewhere to be right now." The ring leader said after checking what time it was.

"Consuelo will be with you shortly. She made pasta for you." The dumb one added.

"I'm not a fan of Italy. Consuelo, however, sounds like a lady I'd love to meet." He nodded. Those guys really had no idea how stupid they were being.

After they left, he was on his own for more than half an hour. He kept glancing over to the small window on the top of the wall, wondering if there really was a body in the water, and if so – whose body was it?

After a while, he heard heavy footsteps nearing the door.

An elderly woman walked in and brought him a tray of food. There was a plate full of pasta, some orange juice and a small chocolate bar.

He took a moment to assess the situation. She was nice, she seemed nurturing. She also refused to make eye contact with him and she dared to utter no word. It all pointed to her being kept there against her own will, as well. Yet, she wasn't handcuffed, so the three men must be holding something against her.

"Hello Consuelo." He smiled at her, but she busied herself by pushing the small table closer to him and placing the tray on it, so he'd be comfortable to eat.

"Oh, so you have a grandson?" He assumed.

Everything about her actions spoke about her, taking care of a child – the way she set the table and the food choice, especially that orange juice, would surely be something she'd prepare for a toddler.

"No words." The woman said in thick Latina accent.

"They told you not to talk to me? Okay. But they never told me I cannot talk to you…" He smiled again and this time she looked at him, very briefly.

He had the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen and a very comforting smile, too. His face, even bruised, was pleasant to look at.

"What's your grandson's name?" He asked, surely hoping he'd make her speak now that he had hit a soft spot.

"Pedro."

"Beautiful name. I once knew a guy named Pedro…but you really don't want to know what happened to him…" He sighed, remembering one of his colleagues that had been killed in a very colorful manner, years ago.

"Does he have your cute dimples?" He asked and he saw a tiny smile on her face.

Oh, he was good with words and he was good with women.

"I bet he's a beautiful child. Is it your daughter's son? Or your son's son?" He asked curiously.

"My daughter, the older one. Pedro only three years old…" She said, clearly not fluent with the language they were speaking.

"I want to have a daughter too. I've always wanted that. I mean, a son would be fine too, but I've always wanted a girl. Daddy's girl, you know, I would spoil her so much. I just never really got a shot at fatherhood, with my job, my life, and yeah the fact that my wife died…it just wasn't possible for me to start a family."

His words made Consuelo tear up. Being a Latina grandma, family was everything to her.

"I have five children, two grandchildren. My husband dead too. I know pain is big." She looked down at her hands and he saw she still wore her wedding ring.

"Must have been a great man. And it must have been a great love story. I stopped wearing my wedding ring after…you know. It was a constant reminder and it was just too painful. I obviously still keep it, but I just never put it on anymore. You know, after her, I never wanted to even think of a possibility of falling in love again. And yet, life had other plans for me…"

"You love beautiful woman?" She asked.

"Wait, do you mean that in general?" He smirked, but she did not understand what his question suggested.

Even right before his death, he'd be a smug ass, a woman lover, a master schemer.

"Okay, fine. Yes, there is this one woman I've recently been out with. She's beautiful and smart, mysterious and God damn it, she's just so sexy, with that…uhhh, and those…maann she was hot…" He spoke, mentally picturing all of her assets that he left unnamed in direct speech.

"Oh, sorry." He added when he saw Consuelo blush. Apparently the woman was not used to such kind of open and honest conversations.

"Anyway. Point is, whenever we think that something in life is impossible, we just have to look at things differently. Nothing is impossible. Here, let me give you an example – Do you think you'd ever get to see Pedro again?"

"No. Three men say they kill me and Pedro's family if I no cook and care for house…"

There it was – her confession. She was clearly acting under duress. Now it was only a matter of time to win her over.

"Well, I think you have to look at it differently. What can you do to change that?" He challenged her.

"Nothing. I stay here and they not hurt my family. They have pictures of Pedro in pre-school. They go watch my daughter at work, they know where she live…"

He frowned, seeing the pain in this woman's eyes. She was innocent, she did not deserve this. There was no chance in Hell he'd be using her and then he'd dump her there. No. He'd help her out and he'd make sure those three men wouldn't even get the chance to go grab her family.

"Eat. Food getting cold." She pointed at the table and he grabbed the fork hesitantly.

"No poison. I good person. I promise." She smiled and he found it adorable how she tried so hard to form a correct sentence. Yes, she mostly failed at it, but he appreciated the effort she was putting in.

"Listen, Consuelo…what if I told you there was a way to save your family?"

"No. I am old woman, they three men with guns. They kill me if I try anything."

"You don't have to go against them. You simply have to side with me, okay?"

"But what if you bad man too?"

"I'm not a bad man. You can be sure of that. And why do women keep thinking I'm a terrorist!?" He rolled his eyes. This just kept on happening to him recently.

"Something on floor…" Consuelo grabbed the small piece of paper and seconds later it dropped back to the floor.

"Ay, Dios mio!" She yelled, in her overly dramatic way.

"No, no, no…" The man groaned. This was going so smoothly. Why did she have to notice that dumb paper?

"You bad man. Here says Louis Andrè Renard…It say Mob Boss…you a bad man like them!"

At this point, Consuelo was freaking out. She already knew the names of all three men, so this Louis guy _had_ to be the chained dude.

"No, wait!" He called out desperately, when he saw the woman walk to the door.

"That's not my name! Come on, please, give me a chance to explain…Consuelo!?" He begged, wondering if that would be the same exact outcome if a certain other woman in his life suddenly realized who the Hell he really was. Would she let him explain? Or would she walk away?

"Consuelo!? I'm not a bad guy! Come back! Ugh, damn it." He had the advantage of Consuelo being extremely slow as she walked towards the door. That gave him a few extra seconds to regroup and to find a new strategy.

"Consuelo? I'm not a bad guy! Now, your only option is to trust me, if you ever want to see your kids and grandkids again. Okay? Please, trust me!"

"No! You Mob Boss. Card say so!"

"Ugh, I knew this stupid crap would come back and bite me in the ass one day!" He mentally cursed the day when he had those printed out. He thought he was being all tough and cool.

"Ok, hate me all you want. But before you go, will you do one thing for me?"

Consuelo stopped and turned around.

"Come back here and look me in the eyes for a whole minute. I won't talk. I'll be quiet. I promise. And I can't hurt you, I am handcuffed, see?"

He showed her the cuffs and it helped ease her down.

She was old, but her desire to keep her family safe was stronger than anything, so she walked back and sat down in front of him.

As promised, he did not speak. He just looked her in the eyes.

A minute had sounded like a very short time. But being there, looking back in his eyes, she realized how long a minute could be.

After just five seconds, she felt uncomfortable. Inevitably, she started remembering things he had told her just moments ago. And then she started to see the truth, in his eyes.

She saw the pain of a man who had lost his wife, but she also saw the love that a man felt for a new woman in his life. She saw regret, maybe for not having had children earlier in life. And then she allowed herself to imagine what a hypothetical child of his would look like – tall, slim, with a beautiful smile, amazing skin, long hair, subtle dimples when she'd smile, but most importantly – beautiful, piercing, expressive eyes. She'd be a strong girl, she would argue her way out of trouble, just like her daddy.

And then she pictured him, as a father. He'd truly spoil this girl, but she knew he would have given her amazing education in life, too. He looked like a very smart man. Also, looking at him for over forty seconds now, he did not look like a Mob Boss.

He now only had twenty seconds left, to win her over. He stood immobile and let her look into his eyes, but really, he knew she could see his soul in them, too. And this was his best weapon.

"You no bad man, Mr. Louis…" Consuelo spoke, way before the minute was over.

"You good man. You have good, pure heart. You not deserve this…" She pointed at his chains and at the visible wounds on his body.

"Consuelo, my name is Richard and I can assure you I'm not a bad man. I cannot prove it, though, unless you trust me and you play on _my_ team, okay? I need to know that you are on my side."

The woman nodded and he exhaled with relief.

"Alright, now I need you to do something for me…" He smiled at her and she could feel that it was a genuine smile.

He then told her a few things while she sat there and kept him company as he ate his food.

"Do you remember it?" He asked later, when she was walking to the door, holding the empty tray in her hands.

"Yes!" She said proudly, reciting a whole bunch of numbers.

"Good girl. Now remember what I told you to do. And be careful."

"What if I fail?" She asked nervously.

"You won't fail. Pedro's grandma is amazing. She is his superhero, remember you told me that earlier? Well, right now I need you to be _my_ superhero, okay? Now go out there, beautiful mamacita, and work your superhero magic for me!" He smiled and the more he did so, the more she liked him.

She nodded one more time and walked out of the basement.


	62. Not The Only One Good At Keeping Secrets

** CHAPTER 62**

_**NOT THE ONLY ONE GOOD AT KEEPING SECRETS**_

"I hope you know that, after the stunts you pulled on us, we won't be paying for any of this!" Angie pointed to the table that Amanda and Jack had laid out for them, at the end of a long and very tiring first day of the week.

"Please, it's the least we could do." Amanda smiled brightly.

"So, you're not a bitch?" Angie asked openly, making Jack gasp.

"Seriously? You're still amazed by anything she does or says?" Bryan laughed, standing by Jack's side.

"I can be one." Amanda started off while opening a bottle. "But for the most part, I'm nice to my friends."

"So, we're _friends_ now?" Angie commented, watching Amanda struggle with the bottle.

"Haven't we always been?" Amanda was too smart to give Angie the satisfaction of being upset over her words. She knew they were just a test.

"Good God gracious, woman! Don't you have bottles in Boston?" Angie couldn't stand this any longer, so she grabbed the bottle from Amanda's hands and worked her way with the corkscrew.

"Hey, you've only been legal to drink for two years now. Why are you so good at this?" Jack was impressed.

"Point one person in America that actually waits for their 21st birthday in order to have a drink?" Angie challenged him while pouring the wine in four plastic cups. This felt a lot like a scene from the sports camp dorm room.

"Word." Bryan laughed, remembering his own first drink, back in high-school.

"Was it easy, you know, transitioning from the Academy into the real world of a working Agent?" Angie asked curiously.

"Yeah, what is the world of an Agent like?" Bryan added to her question.

"Well, it wasn't easy, but it wasn't hard either. We were lucky to have Dan's support even after the Academy. He turned from Mentor to Friend and he still is just that, for us. We hang out after work sometimes and when we need advice, we always go to him. But when we graduated, we both moved on to different Units. That kind of sucked, because we thought we wouldn't see each other at all, but that was not the case." Amanda smiled at Jack.

"We were also lucky to be assigned to the Units we wanted. Well, I got my first wish, but Amanda got her second. And she turned out to be fine with her placement. We are both stationed here at Quantico, but since she's an undercover Agent, she travels a lot…" Jack ended off with sadness in his voice.

"How long have you guys been together?" Angie, once again, shot yet another awkward question.

Jack looked at Amanda, as if to get her permission.

"We don't really tell people about that…" Amanda said shyly.

"I'm not _people_." Angie argued.

"I can see how you will make one excellent behavioral analyst." Amanda smirked, it was _her_ time to toy with Angie.

"I never said what I want to master in." Angie couldn't help but sound a little defensive.

"Come on! I've known this about you since day one. You wouldn't go to bed if you weren't clutching on to that Profiling Violent Crimes book. And you kept reading the behavior chapters over and over again. I wish I could have seen you in those classes later on…" Amanda took a big sip of her wine, loving the taste.

"She crushed it." Jack told her.

"I bet she did." Amanda was fully enjoying both the conversation and the wine.

"Damn, this is an expensive one!" Angie subtly changed the topic when she finally took her first sip.

"Bureau salary, baby!" Amanda smirked. "That's one of the many great things about working for the Government."

"Not with the current budget cuts, I imagine…" Bryan sat back, munching on a few pretzels.

"Yeah, that is unfortunate for some of the Units. We heard that selected ones got huge cuts recently." Jack was cringing, unsure if he would have taken the news well if his own team was among the unfortunate ones.

"Can anything be done about it?" Angie asked curiously.

"Not really. At first, they said it would be temporary. But it's something to do with the government, blah blah politics. I don't know. I just know that we have a lot of amazing Agents out there, suffering the consequences of those cuts." Amanda spoke, while scanning the room with her eyes.

They were all gathered in Angie and Amanda's original dorm, now Angie and Bryan's room.

"Oh, is that…?" Amanda moved a few inches, noticing a huge piece of white paper, rolled by Bryan's bed.

She unrolled it and started to analyze it, with Jack by her side.

"How cute! They even figured out the timing of the flashlights." Amanda squealed a little bit.

It felt just a tiny bit weird to be holding the investigation of her own pseudo-death in her hands, but she was curious to see how much they had figured out on their own.

"Yeah, that was a dumb move." Jack rolled his eyes.

"The bike couldn't be set up in the pitch black. I wasn't even able to figure out where the Hell they had put it, let alone get on it and get the Hell out of there!" Amanda argued.

"Oh, so it was flashlights, not lightnings that we saw?" Bryan asked. "And yes, we figured your escape route was something quick and noiseless. Mountain bike is our best guess."

"Exactly. You guys have no idea the speed with which this whole thing got set up. It had to happen at the end of week two, but my Unit got assigned to a case and they urgently needed my help, which meant that I had to leave the Academy. And since Dan was hellbound on _me_ being the one they use for this stunt, he pulled me out immediately. Like, I got assigned to the case on Sunday morning and this happened that same night. We had zero preparation and no idea what we would be doing. At first, Dan had wanted to take everyone out and have a shooting at some bar. But then we had to be quick, so when I saw the weather forecast for that night, I suggested that hike in the mountains. We basically set it all up right then and there, under your noses. While we were talking and trying to figure out our way through the woods, Dan and one other Agent were pouring the blood down the steep hill and securing my bike. Then you, Angie, had the brilliant idea to go straight in their direction and I knew they weren't done setting it all up, because I haven't had the signal yet, so Jack had to jump in and fake this fight with me, to buy the other guys some time for the set up before I disappeared." Amanda kept laughing as she recalled what had happened that night.

"First of all, you could have used human blood, you know." Angie pointed out. "It was too easy for us to figure out that it came from an animal. Well, not too easy. We only figured that out on the second try, but still."

"I spoke to your DNA analysis teacher. He said you were relentless and that you kept bugging some other guy, who by the way is an actual working lab analyst, to help you out with the analysis. Then you just dropped it and did it yourself. Like, how the heck do you even know how to analyze DNA?" Amanda sounded impressed.

"I'm a nerd. I've read a lot of books. And then you see the machine and you're like "Oh, let's press this and that and then poof, it's done'." Angie shrugged casually. "Plus, I've watched a thousand video tutorials online, as well."

Amanda looked at Angie who was now standing, on her way to crack a window open.

Angela stood tall. She had great posture, her chin was always held high and she carried herself with the poise of a fifty year old Socialite with years of practice in being mature and elegant. And she was only twenty-three. Something wasn't adding up. That bow on her hair was surely there, just to wrap up a whole bunch of qualities that this girl possessed.

Amanda smiled politely, letting Angie think this was just a random glare.

It was not.

"She's a tough cookie." Jack said to Bryan while the girls were not listening.

"Tell me about it." Bryan was now reaching for another handful of pretzels. He loved those so much.

"You know, you're quite the tough guy yourself, bro." Jack added.

He had been watching Bryan since day one. Bryan came in, wrapped in a shell of something that Jack could not figure out. And then there was this cheerful bubbly girl, wrapped in a bow, who kept on cracking little pieces of Bryan's shell. It was hard and at times it did not budge at all, but she did not give in. She kept on hitting that shell and more of Bryan's real personality kept poking through the tiny little holes that she had managed to make. It was progress. And she was stubborn enough to keep going.

"I saw that photo…" Jack mentioned and Bryan tensed up immediately.

While other people had their wall, covered in photos of friends and family, Bryan had only brought one tiny photo to the Academy and he had kept it under key this whole time. Except the first few minutes when he checked in his dorm, before he figured out they had a safety deposit box available.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you, man." Jack pat Bryan's shoulder and watched him re-build some of that shell, the same one that Angela had worked so damn hard to break down so far.

Bryan gulped and looked away. Angela was not the only one good at keeping secrets.


	63. Don't Emily Me!

** CHAPTER 63**

_**DON'T EMILY ME!**_

"How could you let someone kidnap a freaking FBI agent from right under your nose!? With cameras rolling!?" Emily yelled, making a huge scene in the common room at the police station.

"You and I…" Rossi grabbed her hand and forced her towards the back door of the station.

"We are going to have a wonderful walk, get some fresh air and clear out our heads. And lungs. Please?" He said slowly, softly. There was no denying him.

"Emily…" He started off as soon as they managed to get outside.

Lucky for them, the chaos after the media announcement was now much more calm and was only concentrated at the front door of the building.

"Don't _Emily_ me!" She groaned. "I can't believe he has JJ…"

Emily was starting to freak out again. And the last time she had freaked out, someone had wound up dead.

"She's not _her_!" Rossi physically shook Emily's body. It was the only way to knock some sense into her.

Emily then finally took a normal breath, not one of those short, quick-paced ones that made her sound like she was having a panic attack. Or, was she?

"What if we can't save her? God, I promised JJ I would never leave her. And I did. I left her side. I should have been up there, next to her as she spoke. I should have never let her go on her own and show only _her_ face. I made her a victim. I'm the reason why she's been kidnapped. Oh God, ChayChay…" It took another firm shook from Rossi, to stop her from venting.

"Prentiss, I love you and I respect you too damn much in order to do what I really think you need to have done to you right now." Rossi said sternly.

"But at the same time, I really just want to slap you across the face!" He then added.

It was obviously a bluff, but she needed to hear him say something as harsh as that.

"For the last time – stop blaming yourself for everything. Get over yourself and pull yourself together! We need a Unit Chief right now, not a train-wreck!"

Emily breathed in one more time and from that moment on, her breathing slowed down and turned back to normal.

Then they spent the next thirty minutes, walking around aimlessly. Emily, walking in a somewhat of a straight line, and Rossi, following her every curve down the street, with her hand tucked underneath his, holding her by his side like the true gentleman that he was.

In silence.

"Thank you." She finally whispered, feeling ready to go back to work with a clear mind.

"Always." He smiled, his right hand tapping against the back of her hand, the one that was still holding him.

* * *

"We have asked several TV stations to provide us the raw unedited footage from earlier and they have kindly agreed to do so…" Reid informed Prentiss and Rossi as they walked back in, showing them that they hadn't stayed empty-handed this whole time.

"Kindly?" Tara laughed. "Reid threatened to smash their heads with a first edition of…what was that book again?"

Emily could not help but laugh and feel proud of Reid.

"Anything?" Emily sat by Matt's side, looking at the footage he was currently viewing.

"No. Nothing." Matt informed her. "Unfortunately, all the videos are facing the door of the police station. And, right after JJ finished speaking, they all zoomed in on the Police Chief for his finishing words and JJ was out of frame for the rest of it all."

"Can something be heard? I bet JJ wouldn't let herself go down without even attempting to give us a notice. A sign? Or maybe she screamed something in the crowd." Emily suggested, grabbing a laptop and starting to play another one of the files they got sent.

An hour later, they had already seen each file, five times. Nothing could be heard, nor seen.

"A grown up human being does not just disappear in thin air!" Emily concluded, not ready to let go of those tapes.

She kept on staring at the screen, rewinding the video from time to time.

Everyone else had already moved on to study different aspects of the crime.

But not Emily.

"I'm glad that, for once, _I'm_ not the mere definition of insanity." Reid said to Tara, watching Emily repeat that video over and over again and watch it each time as if it was her first time.

Emily closed her eyes for just a second, wondering how did they go from playing the Pink Ladies, to being a lady short, just the next day. And then something stood out to her. She rewound the tape one more time, this time listening for something specific.

"Right there!" Emily nearly screamed out, pausing the video.

"Emily, it's a zoomed shot of the Police Chief and the door. JJ was already gone by that time." Rossi pointed out, looking at the screen.

Emily went back five seconds and instructed everyone to listen carefully as she played it on loudspeaker.

"I heard someone mentioning children…" Reid commented.

"A man was yelling at the police for being incompetent." Matt added.

"A whole lot of colorful words…" Rossi was not about to repeat any of them.

Emily kept shaking her head. All of her faith was in Tara when she looked over to her.

"Oh my God!" Tara exclaimed after a second of silence, thinking about the different things she could make out.

"What? Did we miss something?" Rossi questioned, since it seemed that now Tara was suddenly on the same page with Emily, while everyone else was reading a different book.

"Someone said _'You're the one I need'_." Tara pointed out, making them listen to the tape again.

"And then JJ yelled _'Oh, yes, indeed'_." Emily's big revelation was kind of lost on the boys.

"Grease!" Tara suggested.

No wonder, neither of the boys connected those words to the lyrics of that Musical's theme song right away.

"We have this thing where us girls…" Emily started off, but she had no time, nor intention, of letting them in on their little secret.

"Never mind. It's just something we say to each other. And JJ quoted the lyrics of that one song. That was her hint to us. She knew we would be listening to those tapes when we realized she had gotten kidnapped." Emily felt good, having taken the first little step towards helping JJ out.

"Yeah, but what does that even mean?" Luke came out of his shell of silence.

They were then surprised by a loud banging on the door of the police station.

"My son! My child. My son…" A very freaked out man crawled to his knees once a policeman opened the door for him.

"It's the same man I heard on the tape. The one who was screaming about the child…" Reid recognized the voice immediately.

"I was here…my child…" The man was making no sense at all.

"Sir, calm down." Emily went over to his side, helping him stand up.

"Are you hurt?" She asked, noticing a small scratch on his left cheek, with some fresh blood on it.

"No, no. But my child…my son…he's my only son!" He kept on repeating.

Emily brought him a chair and then grabbed herself one, too, setting it right in front of his.

"Sir, calm down. Breathe. Here, have some water. I need you to relax and then we can talk, okay?" Emily spoke calmly, her voice soothing and even.

Rossi took a moment to study her behavior, while she was doing the same for the man who was now sitting in front of her.

She had been a mess, just over an hour ago. He had had to threaten to hit her, in order for her to calm down. How was she so calm and collected now? It was as if there were two Emily's there – Emily Prentiss, the Unit Chief; and Emily, just Emily, the mess.

"Okay, now I need you to look at me. Just _me_, okay?" Emily asked the man a few seconds later.

She noticed he was being distracted and maybe even intimidated by all these men in uniform, now circling around them, so she asked for some privacy. Her team stayed, but they sat behind the man, being out of his eye sight, as to not make him feel uncomfortable.

"My son Wallace, I had just taken him from school and we were on our way back when we heard about the kidnappings, on the radio. I stopped by the police station to ask what's going on and people were being loud and I freaked out. I stayed a little bit, to learn the news. We were told someone would come talk to us." The man spoke.

"Yes, one of my colleagues. We are with the FBI." Emily informed him, unsure if she had mentioned it while scraping him off the floor two minutes ago.

"FBI? For a couple of kidnappings?" He asked skeptically.

"Sir, this is a little bit darker than just two kidnappings. But we cannot give out any information on an ongoing investigation." Emily said honestly, yet very vaguely.

"Are you saying my son is now with a man whom the FBI is searching for?" The man started to freak out once more.

"All due respect Sir, but I have to first understand what _you_ are saying, in order to say something myself." She spoke sternly, looking at him with that _'I ain't playin'_ stare in her eyes. "Also, if your son has been taken by this person we are looking for, you should take some comfort in knowing that a fully trained FBI Agent is right there, with him. She would never let anything happen to a child, she is a mother!"

"Wallace kept begging me to leave. He had to use the rest room and I told him when everyone was gone, we could use the one at the police station, so then he dropped his whining and just waited with me. It must have been at least fifteen minutes before the woman came out. Blonde, beautiful, kind of tiny." He continued.

Emily nodded. "Agent Jareau." She said her name, so that he could have a reference later.

"Yes. And then she started speaking and we just wanted answers. Everyone was pushing us around and…I didn't think much of it, at the time. It's just another riot in front of a police station, I thought this was all normal." He stopped, allowing himself to finish the glass of water that Emily had offered him earlier.

"It _is_ normal. There should be nothing weird about it." Emily had an agenda. "Unless you think you might have seen or heard something suspicious…"

"No. No…" He repeated, the second time unsure of his own statement.

"Let's start from the beginning…" Emily breathed in and, subconsciously, the man did so as well.

"Uh-oh. Unstable Prentiss giving a cognitive? Great idea!" Reid said sarcastically.

"Where do you see an unstable Prentiss?" Rossi smirked, his eyes admiring the strength that the woman in front of him was showing now, in comparison to the one he had to take on a walk out earlier.

Emily made the man start talking and, from what she could understand, he had been standing in the crowd, despite his son begging him to leave, for about fifteen minutes, before JJ even walked out. Then it had taken her about five minutes to wrap up her statement and to answer, or avoid answering questions. Then there was a whole minute left out blank, since she had stopped talking until when her voice was heard on the tape.

Where had she been?

Why did nobody see her?

What was she doing?

The man was confused, by the end of his own statement.

"Relax, it is normal to mix up the order in which things happened." Emily reassured him, being expert in eye witness testimony after years of work and study in that field.

"I think I heard…" He then stopped for a second. "No, that's not right. I think…yeah, the woman stopped talking and I remember I told my son to shut up and let me listen to her last words. He wanted to tell me something and I ignored him. I was quite harsh, too. But I needed to know everything. I heard women were being abducted and so I was afraid for his mother. She works late night shifts and she always comes home on her own. I had to inform myself, in order to protect her."

"You are a brave man, Sir." Emily offered him a tiny smile.

"Then I just…I remember the woman and then she was not there. And my son…" He inhaled sharply, as if he had just realized something. "My son was not there either. I uh, I started shouting that a child had been lost in the crowd, but nobody was listening. Everyone was discussing the kidnappings. Then the shouting eased down and I could hear people talking, but I couldn't hear my son's voice. He wasn't near me and I couldn't find him."

"Did you see him walk off? Did he let go of your hand?" Emily asked, just to get him to keep talking.

"No. Yes, yes, he was holding my hand. He started tugging on my hand right when the woman announced she would be answering the last question. That's when I yelled at him to stay put and wait a little longer and that's when I felt his hand slip away, but I never would have thought he'd walk away in such a big crowd. He's a very good boy." The man exhaled, feeling like a fool.

Reid had an idea and he waved at Emily, as if he was urging her to join the team.

"Sir, you've been very helpful. Just one last question – how did you get hurt?" She asked in the end.

"I don't know. I must have spaced out I was so worried about my son and I guess I must have tripped and…I don't know. I only just opened my eyes now. I was laying on the grass, between those trees over there, in front of the police station." He said.

"You just woke up, _now_?" Emily was surprised.

"Yes and I ran to the station right away to ask if anyone has maybe seen my son. He's a smart kid, he knows to look for police officers if he ever gets lost." He stated, his heart now racing.

"Sir, would you be okay if I assign two police officers to take you to a nearby hospital for just a standard check before you go home? We will be in touch if we have any news, but right now you need to be with your son's mother and you need to be strong, for both of you. Okay?" Emily kept on smiling, trying not to freak the man out.

He agreed and got escorted to the hospital by a policeman and Matt. Emily had whispered to him what she needed and he left in a hurry.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

**"Nichole"** Don't worry :) I can _**ASSURE**_ (and **re-assure!**) you that the pairing you raised concerns about is _**NEVER**_ going to happen!

If you've read the "inappropriate relationship" comment, it was meant in a strictly **PLATONIC** way. (Inappropriate because of the things she says to tease the other person).

Angie will form strictly _**PLATONIC**_ relationships (**friendships!**) with several characters. At most, she might become **friends** with the character you mentioned, but that's **SURELY** where it ends!

She is NOT being set up for a _love_ relationship, anytime soon. This is NOT a main arc for the story.

As for her knowing a lot and being good - it's not because she's a fairy with supernatural powers. She's been **busting her ass**, day and night, for years, to be who she is now. And there is another reason why she's so good...it will be explained later on :)

Angie fails miserably at MANY things. She just does not do them, or talk about the things she doesn't know much about, so she seems good at "everything", but really, she just knows how to avoid being called out on the lack of skills in other departments. You will soon start seeing her soft side, her struggles, her past, her insecurities. I need to build her as a strong character first.

_**ANYONE**_ can be as good as Angie. Just find the thing you're passionate about and be fiercely consistent in your attempts to always improve in that field :)!

PS: I really like the spelling of your name, Nichole :)!


	64. Girl, Those Eyes Of Yours…

** CHAPTER 64**

_**GIRL, THOSE EYES OF YOURS...**_

Tuesday morning was kind of rough for Bryan. Waking up was a real pain after all the wine and beer he had consumed the night before. Also, because he only went to bed at about 3 am and was unable to shut Angie up for the next half an hour or so.

Angie, on the other hand was as fresh as a cucumber. She hopped out of bed at 6 am, as if she had been to the SPA last night.

"I hate you, Hunter!" Bryan muttered, fighting her for the bathroom.

It used to be set – Bryan showers first, then Angie. Then, somewhere along the way, it was always Angie first, for whatever reason. He had to step up his game.

"I love you too, Bry-Bry!" She blew him a kiss before she closed the bathroom door in his face.

* * *

"Uuuuuugh!" Angie groaned, running from one class to another for the third time that day.

They barely had any time for lunch and it was already 4 pm.

"What's your favorite class?" Bryan asked, walking fast, just a step behind Angie.

"Dude, I am all sorts of jagged up and also - late to class right now; and all you can do is initiate small talk? Like, seriously?" Angie hated being late and, so far, they were going to be at least two minutes late for class, if they didn't pick up that pace.

"It's SWAT procedure. It's something we did when we were under pressure. Trust me, it takes your mind off of things." It kind of made sense, now that he explained it better.

"Fine. I clearly liked the profiling classes. Sadly, those were just substitutes and we don't have anything like that on our schedule yet. So, that sucks." Angie started walking a little bit faster.

"I really like Agent Seger's class now." She then added.

"What, the one that speaks about dead bodies?" Bryan laughed at her. Such an Angie-like thing to say.

"Yeah, it is important to be able to figure out the time of death. And it's not about bodies, it's about bones and ancestry. It's different." She corrected him in her sweet, nerdy way.

"I'm not a fan of her class. She is really cool, though, as a person. I mean, she's always smiling and so different than anyone else who teaches us." Bryan scanned their surroundings, noticing a small water fountain, tucked away between the trees. This would come in handy when they need to re-fill their bottles, but have no time to go around, searching for a vending machine to buy it from. Neither of them enjoyed tap water, this was their last resort, usually during PFT training when they were too far from the vending machines.

"Tell me about it! I still hate the tactical driving dude, like, so badly!" Angie rolled her eyes.

This man had been pushing her last nerve since the moment he met her. Yes, Dan had initially asked him to push her, but once Dan's scheme was revealed, she thought things would cool off. They did not. The guy still hated her guts and considered her to be a complete failure, during his classes.

"What's _your_ favorite?" She asked him, now completely forgetting about the time and the schedule. Apparently, his idea of small talk was working.

"Oh man, I really liked that DeMo dude's class yesterday." Bryan grinned.

"I thought you would. He's a tough cookie." Angie looked at him with a smile. "He's pretty easy on the eye, too."

"Oh, look at who is checking teachers out now, Missy!" Teasing her was what he lived for.

"I just said he's good looking. And those muscles…yum!" She said dreamily. "But I'm not attracted to him, not like that. He's not my type. I do, however, really like the way he held that class. Let's hope he keeps on kicking our asses. I have a feeling there is tons we can learn from that guy."

"What's your type then?" He just _had_ to jump at the chance to ask her that, since she practically never spoke about guys. All she did was tease others, but when it came to herself, she hadn't uttered a word.

"You'll see. Someday…" She trailed off.

"Whenever the heck that might be." She added, rolling her eyes.

"Don't tell me my Tough Missy is a helpless romantic who is waiting for her Prince Charming?" Bryan burst out laughing.

"Oh, you don't know nothing about me, bro! My favorite movie is The Wedding Planner. I've seen it about 150 times already. Even though I don't really believe in love…and I really, _really_ dislike watching movies…" She shrugged, now opening the door of the training building.

"Haha, for real? Yo, I gotta admit – Jennifer Lopez was smoking hot in that movie." Bryan licked his lips subconsciously.

"She always is!" Angie stated.

"So, now I know your favorite actress and possibly singer, too." He deducted.

"Mhm." Angie admitted shyly.

"You know, you kind of look like her. The hair, the lips…" He stared at Angie's face for a second.

"Oh, staaahp!" She chuckled.

"The only thing that's completely different is the eyes. Don't read this wrong, but girl, those eyes of yours…" He then whistled, out of appreciation.

Angie bat her eyelashes sweetly. All her life she had received compliments for those emerald eyes of hers. She liked emphasizing on them, putting on more mascara, so that people would be drawn to her eyes, but she didn't know they were already naturally drawn to them anyways. It was impossible not to notice them. They were big, always sparkling, full of life…and so damn green.

"Can you, please, continue with the compliments even after class?" She asked innocently, as he opened the auditorium door for them to enter.

"Oh, I will never stop, Missy." He smirked, allowing her to enter first.

"Ugh, why is _Missy_ back?" Angie sighed, pretending that him calling her Missy was not the cutest thing.

* * *

"One more class to go!" Bryan sighed when they were on their way to the laboratory later that day.

"And people think college is hard. Ha!" Angie said sarcastically.

"Where did you go to college?" Bryan had this plan in his head, where he would jump at any chance to ask Angie questions about her. He was genuinely curious.

"On the internet." She laughed.

"You did online college?" That somehow surprised him.

"Yup. What's with the quizzical face?" She nodded.

"You just don't seem like the homeschooled type of girl. I'd say you had a wild college experience, you were in a Sorority and you went to all the parties." He deducted.

"Please, don't ever consider profiling as a career…" Her words were more a suggestion, than a joke.

"Nah, that's _your_ thing." He felt his stomach growling. They had only grabbed a burger on the way to one of their classes, five hours ago. Both of them were starving.

"I like a lot of things." She said defensively.

So far, Angie had never admitted her true desire when it came to FBI placement, after graduation.

"Do you also like the fact that Sunday after lunch we have this blank spot of two hours on our schedules?" He said as his eyes laid on the paper that was in his hands.

"Ugh. I hate cuts." She smirked.

"Let me guess – because you feel bad that so many other people would get cut, while you and me will stay here and smoke the competition out, to the last second in the Academy?" Bryan smirked as well.

By now, he knew how to read Angie's thoughts. But, only sometimes.

"Exactly." She put her hand up and got a fist bump from him before they made their way to the last class.

Two hours in the laboratory followed and Angie was seeing stars each time she blinked. If she didn't get food immediately after class, she knew she would pass out.

Bryan offered to go get pizza and she had nothing against it, even if it wasn't exactly healthy. They added some wings, some French fries and some cheese starters to the order and they finished every last bit of it.

An early night followed, as they had a busy day to re-charge for.

* * *

"Today is your lucky day, granny. We're taking you out shopping." One of Richard's kidnappers said to Consuelo.

The poor woman looked so scared. This was the best time to do what Richard had asked her to do and she was very worried. If she failed, both of their lives would be at risk.

She was then dragged to a car, by two of the three kidnappers. They took her to a local grocery store and let her go around, picking out fruit and vegetables, choosing the best meat that she would later have to cook for them. The men kept an eye on her from a far.

Consuelo hurried between the aisles and she looked around nervously. When she reached the counter, she made a small piece of paper fall, right in front of the cashier.

"Call number, say Louis and a woman kidnapped. Big house close here, blue bird. They know what to do next." She whispered to the cashier before the two kidnappers joined her, to pay the bill.

"Everything okay, granny?" The alpha one asked, grabbing Consuelo's arm tight enough to make the woman wince.

The cashier was a tiny young girl who was scared out of her right mind at that moment. She had kicked the small paper underneath the booth where she was sitting, and she greeted the two men with a smile after she noticed a metal piece of something, poking from under the taller man's jacket. It sure could have been a gun.

She played it cool, as if the elder woman hadn't even spoken to her, just seconds ago.

As soon as the men dragged Consuelo out, the girl informed her boss that she needed to use the restroom and she walked away after grabbing the piece of paper from underneath the booth.

"He-hello?" She stuttered when she heard a deep male voice answer the phone.

"Hello, who is this?" The man asked.

"Who are _you_?" She asked, sounding scared out of her right mind.

The man then realized what this call must be. He sighed and told the girl his name and where he worked.

"Oh my God! What is going on? So, she wasn't joking?" The girl gasped, absolutely terrified now.

"Relax, breathe slowly and tell me what you know." He said calmly.

"Ok, so I work in a grocery store and an old woman just came here and gave me this number. She told me to call you and say that Louis and one more person are kidnapped. And then she mentioned a big house and some blue bird. She said it was close to the store. She said you'll know what to do next." The girl was hyperventilating, trying really hard to remember all of the words correctly.

"So, Louis and one more hostage, in a big house near your grocery store…and a blue bird. Is that correct?" The man asked for confirmation on what he had just typed down on a piece of paper.

"Yes, that's all she said before the men dragged her out. I think one of them had a gun."

"How many men were with her?" He asked.

"Two. One of them grabbed her hand and the poor woman seemed so scared. Please help them!"

"Don't worry. You did the right thing to call this number, I'll take it from here. Now go back to work, see if you can take the rest of the day off, try to relax. Don't think about this anymore and don't tell anyone. Do _not_ call the police, do you understand me?"

"Yes. Wait, no. Why not call the police? They have to know!"

"Because the moment the police gets involved, the two hostages get murdered and the men you saw would be on a plane to Miami. Do you understand? No police! Promise me not to call the authorities!"

"Oh my God. Okay, no police, I promise. Please, help them!" She spoke frantically and he could tell she was out of it. That was not an everyday thing.

"I need you to repeat the address of your store and your name, please?" The man asked.

She gave him all the information willingly, before they hung up and she asked her boss if she could go home. Luckily for her, she only had an hour left from her shift, so her boss told her she could go.

* * *

"Victor, what's the emergency?" A young female asked, raising her eyebrows when she entered a meeting room that Victor had invited her to, just minutes ago on the phone.

Looking around, she saw some of the most influential people that she could find in the building.

"Richard just made contact. He used his alias, Louis. He's been held hostage, I have an approximate location. It's an hour away from here. I need two teams on this and I need a whole bunch of permissions that I don't have the time to e-mail all of you about…" Victor explained briefly before giving a look at a few of the suited up guys in that room.

"Anything you need." One of them nodded and soon enough, everyone else did the same.

"Good. We need to be careful, the second hostage is an elderly woman, the one who made contact with the person who called me. So, whatever happens, whoever gets to them first, eyes on the lady, okay? I want her safe and unharmed." Victor commanded.

"Alright, let's go get our Boss back, guys!" He said, trying to pump them up.

Everyone seemed a bit nervous. This was pretty much an everyday thing for all of them, but when the big Boss was involved, they knew they had to be on top of their game.

"No police will be involved, which means you are authorized to shoot, whenever and whoever you find necessary. No questions asked. You know how we roll. Eyes on our main goal, everything else is fair play. Okay? Come on, people. Let's go have some fun, alright?"

"You sound just like Richard…" Someone told Victor and he smirked.

This was a compliment and he'd gladly take it in, letting it sink in for a moment.


	65. Unstable Prentiss, Where?

** CHAPTER 65**

_**UNSTABLE PRENTISS, WHERE?**_

"Standard medical check…on an eye witness?" Tara questioned Emily's tactics.

"You heard the man – he only just woke up and it has been God knows how long since the kidnapping." Emily replied.

"Forty-three minutes and thirty-seven seconds." Reid stated. "Thirty-eight…"

"Reid!" Luke shut him up by just pronouncing his name.

"The man had been knocked out cold. And he was a big man, so this is our first clue on our UnSub – he is someone who was not afraid to blitz attack the dad, after grabbing both JJ and the kid. Supposedly." Emily shrugged, not even knowing how great she was doing so far.

"Unstable Prentiss, where?" Rossi smirked, rubbing Reid's previous words in his face. It felt good to prove a genius wrong.

"Also, that whole minute in which JJ was gone…" Emily spoke slowly, allowing Reid to interrupt her.

"Yeah, about that. It's why I called you back here. You see, he mentioned that JJ announced she would only be replying to one more question…but then she rushed through it…" Reid announced.

"Yes, it's what JJ has always done as a liaison. Nothing new." Rossi commented.

"No, but this time it was different. Luke, can you get me that first video they sent us?" Reid asked.

Luke just pushed the computer in front of Reid, forcing him to search for it himself.

"I hate electronics…" Reid muttered to himself, now fighting with all the e-mails that the BAU had in their inbox.

"Here!" Reid skipped through everything and went straight to the end, where the camera was zooming in on JJ's face, right after she announced she only had time for one more question.

"Her eyes…" Emily couldn't believe she hadn't been able to catch that herself.

"Not liaison eyes." Rossi agreed.

JJ had a certain stare that she used, a poker face, that only came out during press conferences and especially when she was avoiding questions from the public. The screenshot they had currently paused the video on, was not that stare.

"Not FBI Agent eyes…" Luke commented after studying the image for a few seconds.

"Motherly eyes." Emily said, crushing it.

"But she never thinks about Henry and Michael during work. Ever! It's what keeps her grounded and focused – completely differentiating her two worlds." Reid was the only one to disagree with Emily.

"Reid, when a woman looks at a child with those eyes, it does not matter if the child came out of her own womb or someone else's." Emily schooled him quickly.

"A child is a child and a mother instinct does not require a mother to be a…mother…" Emily trailed off. Her words made no sense to anyone…but her.

And Rossi.

He gave Emily a strange look, analyzing a few pieces of information in his head. He then said nothing at all.

"So, are you saying there is a possibility that JJ was with the child for a part of, if not the whole minute that she was off air?" Reid asked, wanting her to clear it all up.

"Yes, exactly. I think JJ got distracted by the suffering child – she saw him tugging on his father's hand, then the father shooed him away rudely and something just clicked inside of her and she let that motherly instinct kick in." Emily added to what Reid had already figured out.

"In the middle of a job assignment?" Rossi said skeptically. "JJ has never done that before."

"Exactly! That's why this hit her so hard now, it being the first time she ever let herself to think and act like a mother, during work. She didn't know how to recover from that, UnSub saw her vulnerable and attacked her." Emily's suggestion was somewhat weak. It was a good one, but missing out more details.

"The way I see this, the UnSub planned his attack. He must have been at home when the conference started and something JJ said at the beginning made him tick. He then decided to grab her, and he is bold to have even tried to do that at a place, full of cameras, policemen and FBI Agents." Tara suggested.

"That would only mean that the UnSub lives in immediate vicinity to the police station, as JJ's appearance took only about five minutes." Luke spoke up again.

"And that he is mobile, he has a car, big enough to put two kidnapped people in, yet small enough to not attract too much attention." Rossi pointed out.

All of this would help Garcia narrow her search as soon as they would call her.

"Wait, no…something is off." Emily stopped for a moment, re-gaining her perfect posture as she stood up and paced around for a bit.

"You mean, why would JJ cut a conference short, for a boy who seems to be treated badly by his father?" Rossi asked her, but her mind was elsewhere, and she did not even register that question as such.

Emily then sat back on the computer that she had been using and she re-played just the audio, not looking at the video footage from the end of the conference.

"He's one of the reporters and he was already here, in one of those large TV vans. That's where JJ and the kid disappeared off to and that's why nobody can recall seeing them after she stopped talking. Our brains tend to remember only instances that differ from the ordinary and JJ talking to a reporter, after a press conference, would not have raised any suspicion in the people around them, hence why nobody, not even the police officers, recall even seeing a thing. That's how she disappeared – she never did disappear. She was always right there, in front of everyone's eyes. Until she wasn't…" Emily spoke quickly, as if she was trying to race against time.

"It's called _inattentional blindness_ – that's the failure to notice a fully-visible, but unexpected object because attention was engaged on another task, event, or object." Emily then continued.

"Okay, Dr. Reid…" Tara put her hand on Emily's back, trying to make her slow down. She was not acting like herself.

"Let her be." Rossi whispered to Tara and she quickly moved away from Emily, letting her release her full potential.

"Garcia?" Emily said as soon as Garcia picked up the phone.

"I need you to run a search for me…" She then continued pouring all the specific information that she had already profiled about the UnSub.

Garcia could be heard, typing and panting, on the other side of the line.

"Are you now going to tell me his name and social security number too, or do you want me to do that?" Garcia asked.

She hadn't even had the time to ask about the recent kidnapping, before Emily had poured everything on her.

"Okay, small city, not too many reporters. Add football practice for anyone who has kids on the field right now, and we're down the men who are daddies. Oh, yeah I see here that the kids football team practices on Tuesday after school, so…" Garcia explained her ideas a bit further.

"Now, out of all TV stations, only one had no representative on the scene. Two had women covering the event…" She kept speaking, but Emily interrupted her.

"Garcia, stop wasting time! We're looking for a male!" Emily snapped at her.

"Jeesh, relax. You sound like someone from our team has been kidnapped, Mama Bear." Garcia chuckled, but when she heard the stone-cold silence on the other side of the line, she felt like she was about to pass out.

The team had intentionally left out a 'small' detail about the case. Truthfully, most of them hadn't even thought about calling Garcia, while they were busy analyzing the videos they had received.

"Oh my God, what have you guys gotten yourselves into?" Garcia was now freaking out and that was rarely a good sign.

"He has JJ." Everyone's eyes turned to Emily when she just came out and said that.

"JJ? No!" Garcia instantly removed the first tear from her cheek. "I am going to give you a name faster than-…"

She then shut up and typed away.

"Two names. James Rollins, 25, fresh out of college, works for Star News Channel since May." Garcia suggested.

"No!" Emily said, sure of herself. "Next?"

"Uh, okay. Carlton Webber, 46, been with Channel Fresh Daily for 19 years now. This is…oh…" Garcia kept on reading his file.

"What?" Emily spit out her question, unsure of what she would do to Garcia if she put any more suspense over Emily's shoulders…or any more time between Emily and her reunion with her best friend and colleague.

"Check this out. He was about to receive some sort of an award, for his 20 years at the channel. But something happened and he…" Garcia had the damned habit of trailing off and reading the information to herself first, before she would break it to the team.

"Speak!" Emily was not sure if she even _had_ a heartbeat anymore, inside of that body of hers, but on the outside, she was a coyote. Oh, she was a hyena. Or whatever other wild animal that had poise and that oozed confidence. A gazelle – beautiful, lean, skin like silk, yet fierce like the predator that she really was.

A chameleon – changing its color, but never its heart.

"There's something about a party. Okay, so his channel had a party for the end of Summer and apparently each group of people had to come up with a funny sketch. Uh, guys, check out the file I'm sending to you right now…" Garcia announced, just wanting a moment to herself, where she didn't need to talk. A moment when she could process the information that JJ had been kidnapped.

Luke played the video that had been uploaded to a popular video sharing channel and had quite an impressive view count already.

In the video, three people were playing a sketch. One of the characters was a billionaire, another one was his secretary and the third one was a homeless man – scruffy, dirty, a bit weird.

"What are we looking at?" Emily asked, considering this to be a waste of time.

The video went on with the homeless man asking money from the millionaire and begging him for mercy. The man then said to him that he could walk out of his office with as much money as he could count.

The video cut to the scene where the homeless man started to struggle with numbers.

"Sixteen…" He said, grabbing one more dollar form the table, while the billionaire and his secretary laughed at his inability to count.

"Uh, seventeen…" The man urged himself to keep going, because he needed as much as he could get.

"Eighteen…" He then took one more dollar.

"Eighteen." He repeated, unable to recount the number that came after that.

That's when the billionaire made a scene, telling him that eighteen dollars was as much as he would get out of life.

The homeless man was then kicked out of the office and the video cut off.

The team of three reporters then came out in plain clothes, explaining the importance of bullying on society, not just on kids. The point of the video had been to shock people, initially, about the rudeness of the rich man, only to then teach them a lesson with the last clip that revealed the moral of it all.

"Heartwarming." Emily said coldly. "Why is this relevant?"

"I present to you Mr. Carlton Webber…" Garcia said while hitting the Send button to a photo.

"Holy crap!" Emily exclaimed.

The man was the inspiration behind the character of the homeless man. Mr. Webber was scruffy, he looked older than his age and he looked like he had a problem with drinking, judged by the expression in his eyes.

"Guys, the numbers…" Reid pointed out.

"Oh, yeah. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen and then eighteen again. That's our link in victimology! That's how the UnSub chose his victims. He didn't care about anything else, as long as they were of _that_ age. He probably didn't even know any of those girls previously." Emily pointed out.

Tara was about to open her mouth and add one more observation, but then Rossi shushed her for the second time that day. Everyone had already caught up to what was happening, but it was Emily who needed to run the game now.

"How does JJ fit in? Well, she rubbed him the wrong way. This video from over a month ago must have been our UnSub's trigger. The first kidnapping happened two days after this was uploaded. And judging by the comments, everyone figured out who the inspiration behind this character was, so I bet this kind of humiliation rubbed him the wrong way. If I'm right and he has a drinking problem, he must be messed up enough to continue his killing spree even after eighteen. Because, wasn't there only four numbers on the video? He already killed his eighteen. Why continue? Something must have given him the satisfaction that his job was not giving him…" Emily was now rambling out loud, mostly speaking to herself, ignoring everyone else's existence.

"Yeah, one more thing. He started attacking people on that same video website, in the comments section, which lead to his boss suspending that big reward for his 20 years of service. He was supposed to receive the award next month. I guess that sketch really did him a trick…" Garcia added shyly.

"Makes sense. People make fun of me, I go online and go after them, maybe I've had a few drinks, it makes me feel good. Then my boss takes away the one thing I've worked so hard for and I snap. Drinking just doesn't do it for me anymore and I am now afraid to lose my job if I keep going after people online. Plus, it doesn't satisfy me anymore. So, I go after them in real life. I create a story in my head, where I get my revenge by killing those girls, each one representing the coins that a character, based on me, had to beg for, in front of a man of authority, such as the billionaire, or in my case - my boss." Emily had now dived deeply into thoughts.

"Ok, call me when she's not cuckoo anymore." Garcia hung up quickly.

"We have a name and an address. Why are you not gearing up?" Emily asked, seeing none of her teammates get ready.

"Perhaps we should tone it down a notch." Rossi suggested.

"Want to say that to JJ?" Emily said, sarcastically.

"It's just too easy to be true." Reid had to agree with Rossi's plea to hold up on the arrest.

"No, I know what I know and right now I know JJ's in the hands of this lunatic and I know I'm going to get her, whether you want to join me or not. I have enough probably cause, to go search that house." Emily spoke while keeping her right hand firmly pressed against her gun, hanging at the side of her pants.

"But-…" Luke tried to knock some sense into her, but there was no budging on her side.

"No. Don't you dare question my judgment. I am the Unit Chief and I am responsible for JJ's life. I'm also damn confident in my final decision and since JJ is not here to overthrow my orders, then I order you all to gear up and get in that car outside, so we can go get JJ and this little boy back!" She stated firmly, leaving no more open doors for discussion.

Emily drove one of the cars, with Rossi in the passenger's seat and Tara in the back. Luke drove the other car, with Matt to keep him company. Emily knew that as soon as she got her hands on JJ, Tara would be kicked out to Luke and Matt's car very quickly, so that JJ could rest in the back seat, with the kidnapped child.

"What if you are wrong?" Rossi tried to speak up in the car, but it would go nowhere.

"I am not!" Emily kept her eyes on the road, praying that they would get there in time.

"If my theory is correct, the UnSub already had his significant kills. He completed his four numbers and he does not care what happens to him from now on. If we hadn't showed up, maybe he would have even stopped killing. But then we let JJ face them…face _him_, all alone. And we gave him the perfect opportunity to strike and that is just…" Emily trailed off, as she was getting too worked up to formulate an actual phrase, with JJ's name in it.

"If you are correct, that would mean that the UnSub got aggravated by JJ when she completely diminished his accomplishments in the media. Maybe his end-game was to be famous for something other than a comedy skit? What if he wanted to go down as one of the chilling serial killers, the ones people like me write books about? He is a reporter, he is used to being in the public eye. Right before going into pension, why wouldn't he want to be recognized for something big, even if it is gruesome? What does he have to lose? If you are right and he is an alcoholic with a bruised ego, there is no pretty end to this game, for him. Also, if you are right, JJ and the kid never made it out of that car alive." Rossi made some really good points, making Emily feel goosebumps all over her body.

"So, pardon me when I meet your idea with skepticism, but I just really don't want you to be right, Prentiss!" He then added, allowing her to see _his_ point of view.

And he was right. If Emily's profile was right, that was very bad news for JJ and the child.

Emily pulled up in front of the house first, followed by Luke's car.

"Emily, the profile says-…" Reid called out after her when he saw her sprint out of the car.

"I don't give a damn about the profile!" If she had a mirror in front of her, she'd see her eyes sparkle when she spat out those words.

Not breaking protocol, she arrived at the fence first, but then waited for the rest of her team to back her up before she made her move.

* * *

"What are you even doing?" Bryan eyed Angie who was stretching while reading something.

"Multitasking." She answered quickly.

"It's literally the only gap between training and classes this week and all you do is train and read some more? Come on. You need to let loose a bit, go out, have fun, do something silly." He urged her.

The Trainees were not yet allowed to have days off, or weekends off to go see their families. They were all required to stay on Campus, even when they were not training, which was a rare thing to even happen.

So far, everyone had figured out their outlet – some liked to sleep, some had formed teams for different outdoors sports, some enjoyed those art therapy coloring books for adults, some liked to lay out and get some fresh air, maybe have a nap and soak in some sun while they still could.

Angie, however, liked to train. Her only way of relaxing was when she stretched, before and after training, and even then she'd do that with a book in hand. She was curious. About everything. She was like a five year old with a sugar rush, she just had so many questions about everything. This was all she had ever known in life – working on perfecting herself.

She sure had hobbies, but she couldn't do any of them on Campus, and she didn't want to go searching for new hobbies either.

She was well aware of her weak points. There were way too many things she was terrible at, so she avoided them at all costs. She wouldn't do or discuss something that she was not good at, and it wasn't so that she could look more intelligent when she would inevitably speak about something she was familiar with. She just felt self-conscious when she lacked skills or information.

For instance, she could hold a gun and make a pretty good shot from a distance and yet, she was terrible with her hands, in other skills. She had never been able to wrap a present properly. She had always struggled in art class at school, her drawing skills were worse than the ones of a newborn child. She could not draw a damn straight line, even using a ruler. And yet, she was precise, when it came to doing things on the field. She was kind of good at calculating distance between objects, she was very resourceful and if she was stranded on an island with someone, they wouldn't need to worry, because she'd be the first one to figure out a way to build a boat and get them out of there. But then again, if given clay and asked to give pottery a try, she'd fail more than miserably.

Having had to take care of herself for so many years, she had learned how to point out her strong assets, while hiding the weak ones. It might have been a subconscious way for her to keep herself safe – don't show your enemies your weakness. Or it might have been a question of pride. But that was how it was and it was working for her.

If someone spoke about subjects she had read about and if she felt confident that she remembered enough information, she'd speak up. She would often be the youngest person in the room, but she would make herself look smart. And yet, when the topic was something she lacked information on, she'd smile politely and stay quiet. Or she'd change the subject altogether. She wouldn't show them that she was not in the know.

She had been doing the same thing at the Academy – volunteering to answer the things she was confident about and also volunteering when it came to things that she knew she could work on. She had received bad feedback about her upper body strength and she knew this could be improved, so she had asked Bryan to guide her with pull ups until she started to see the results. And yet, she knew she sucked at tactical driving. She had tried to volunteer, but it just wasn't working for her, so she kept quiet and did her best to learn, but other than that, she just tried to survive those classes and go on to the next type of training.

Angie was extremely good with her communication skills. She could inspire and get to someone in ways that other people might not be able to. And yet, she was really bad with connecting to people, on a personal level. She'd ask questions about others and she'd genuinely want to know more about them, but the moment tables were turned, she'd close herself off and she'd lose her confidence. She wanted to make friends, but she didn't want to open up. She wanted to hear out people's problems and she wanted to help them, but she was absolutely terrified of the idea that someone might want to hear _her_ story, and try to help _her_ out.

She had loved acting, since she was a child. It had allowed her to act like different characters, to switch between moods, but most importantly – to conceal her true feelings. She'd act calm, even when a volcano was erupting inside of her. She'd smile through pain and she'd laugh so that tears wouldn't come out to embarrass her. She'd keep her chin up, always, she'd have her poker face on and she would deal with the emotional damage later, on her own, possibly on the bathroom floor, eating chocolate. But she would never let anyone see her like that.

In a way, her outlet in the Academy was jogging. She had started to wake up about half an hour early sometimes and she'd go out for a quick run before PFT. It was good both for her mental strength and for her muscles, before training. It gave her time to be all alone, to go as quickly or as slowly as she pleased, to feel the wind against her face, to feel in control.

"Bry-Bry, I'm not here to do silly, fun things. I'm here to learn how to save people's lives. I'm here because I _chose_ to be here. And in a weird way, I find the studying process fun. I don't care if people would call me a nerd, but I like learning new things. I like training and I like the challenge. So, please stop looking at me like I'm wasting my precious free time by doing useless stuff. Okay? I chose this life for myself. I want this. And I don't regret anything I've ever done in life, so I could get here." Angie replied to him after a long moment of self-reflection.

"You know, I really admire your mental strength through all of this. If anyone deserves this job, it's you." He offered a tiny smile before he let her do her thing.

He had planned on spending his free time playing soccer with the other guys, but after hearing her words, he went to the training field instead. A little extra muscle work-out wouldn't hurt him. Much like Angela, he knew exactly what he wanted from the Academy and he knew he needed to improve constantly.

If they ever became Agents, they would be risking their lives on a daily basis, throwing themselves in the line of fire, just to save others. And this wasn't a fun thing, like in the movies where everyone was a hero. Nope. In their story, they had to be prepared, both mentally and physically. They had to back each other up, to inspire each other and to protect each other. And they would only be able to do so after months of hardcore training and constant devotion to the learning process.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Bryan, the Playboy...married? Hmm, that could be a twist! Oh Richard as a Secret Services Agent!? I might be jealous now, lucky Emily if that would be the case. Damn! :P And no, Emily's heart does NOT deserve a heartbreak. It deserves something real and pure, that would last forever... (Unrelated: Doyle was kinda hot, color me weird, but I kinda liked the whole 'forbidden love' going on between Lauren and Ian. Also, Lauren was **SAVAGE** when with Ian and I like me a worked up fired out Emily/Lauren). Hmm, I don't think DeMo's identity would be shocking to Angie, I think this secret might hit other people harder, the longer it stays hidden. And thank you, I appreciate your kind words :)!

**"rmpcmfan"** Thank you :)! I love this two-way feedback thing, I really enjoy talking to my reviewers. Angie is about to get a whole lot more interested in SWAT soon. (NO, NOT hinting on **ANY** 'romantic' relationship between her and Morgan!) SWAT gives her the field to run, kick doors, yell at the top of her lungs, be wild and point a gun left and right. Ain't that what she needs, to blow off some steam? LOL! Oh, Angie SUCKS at many things, but like I've said before - she avoids them at all costs. You will see some, in the future. She concentrates on what she can do well and what she knows she can improve in (such as the pull ups, once Bryan trained her on the side). So far, tactical driving is her worst nightmare in the Academy, but it won't be her only weak point. OMG Consuelo, speak about a brave, strong Latina woman! Richard as a French SPY? That's like, better than chocolate cake :P I can only say that his job is 'hard to explain' and it won't be any easier, explaining it to Emily, one day...if she ever gives him the chance to.

**"Nichole"** Angie went out to a bar only 2 times: First night of Academy, which in no way compromised her studies and literally everyone was celebrating, as per tradition. And then after the BAU Hearing, when they all got invited by Emily. She goes to dinner to eat, not to have fun and waste time. The Amanda Project was done FOR educational purposes, integrating everything she had recently studied, so it was hardly any distraction. It also was her case project for the presentation. She lives, breathes and dreams of this, going to bed and waking up to a book. As for figuring her out - NOBODY can successfully do so yet. I'm not yet giving ANY major clues about her, so it's impossible to know who she is just yet. It is also unclear WHO Angie has a connection to, IF ANY. :) Maybe the connection is yet to be formed? And the most important part: There is a **MAJOR** reason why Angie is so good. I keep saying it, but I CANNOT say more. I don't want to spoil anything. If you keep reading until the revelation happens, the Academy days will make much more sense and so will her behavior and confidence.


	66. Speaking Of Being Naughty

**WARNING:** Mentions of guns, knife and violence. Not very graphic, but in case...

* * *

**CHAPTER 66**

_**SPEAKING OF BEING NAUGHTY…**_

"What's the first thing you'd do when we can finally get to go out and explore the city?" Angie asked, hanging upside down from the pull-up bars.

"What the-…" Bryan groaned unhappily.

He had screwed up during PFT that morning and he was now in punishment, having to do extra pull ups. Angie's form of support had been to stick around and to sway on the bars, next to him, upside down, like a monkey, while she watched him sweat.

"Small talk, remember? It helps you, I don't know, de-stress? Get your mind off things?" She said, referring to what he had told her just 24 hours ago.

"Ah, yeah." He remembered. "Well, the very first thing would be to go get completely smashed."

"Disgusting." Angie cringed. She didn't like getting too drunk or people who were drunk.

"What about you?" He asked, in turn.

"I'd love to go to a supermarket and buy snacks and some juice, maybe some fruit and veggies, to keep in the dorm." She chuckled, seeing everyone upside down was quite cool.

"God, that is such a grown up thing to say. I wish I had thought of it." He teased her.

Angie thought for a second. She was all work, no play, in the Academy. However, it was not healthy. She knew that she needed a good distraction every now and then. She couldn't just work out and study all the time or she'd flip out, it would be the recipe for a disaster.

"Don't get me wrong – I'd go drinking and dancing, too. I also really want to go see the shops. I'm obviously not going to buy anything, but I like trying on clothes and shoes and pretending in my head that I live in a magical world where I could actually afford to buy them."

"I wouldn't mind seeing you all dolled up, actually." Bryan looked at her, all sweaty, with her hair sticking to her forehead as she swayed like a monkey. She was beautiful. She did not need fancy clothes, or make-up, to make her look any better.

However, Bryan wanted to treat her to a little shopping spree. He just had to tread lightly when he proposed that.

"Look, you dragged me to that Finish line, twice. Now I'm dragging you to the shops! Well, not right now. I mean, whenever we can get out of here and go explore. And don't you even try to argue with me, Missy! I had no say when I crossed the finish line, so now you have no say when I swipe my card to get you some new stuff."

Bribing! He was a genius. This was the _only_ way one could ever make Angie do something she otherwise would not do.

"Ugh, fine!" She rolled her eyes, just to appear annoyed on the outside. But on the inside she was screaming like a little girl, making a mental check list of all the things she wanted to buy.

A sparkly dress.

New fairy lights.

Hair bows.

Elastics. God, she had gone through a pack of twenty, all of which had broken on her during training and now her hair was just everywhere.

Nail polish remover. And maybe a new color nail polish, too.

A jumbo pack of whatever type of sweets.

Chewing gum.

She was not one of those high-maintenance girls. At all.

* * *

"How the Hell did you make that work?" Bryan groaned, watching Angie's computer do a check that his computer refused to start, no matter what he typed in that command box.

"I dunno. I just clicked, like…_everything_." She shrugged.

If she had to be honest, she had gotten lucky after her third attempt to recreate what a guy sitting near her was doing. He clicked stuff, she tried to click the same. And it had worked. Did that count as cheating?

Their teacher was walking across the room, checking on everyone's progress and giving them little bits of advice.

"It's okay. Not everyone is cut out to be a tech analyst." He said when he stopped behind Bryan, seeing the initial screen and no progress at all.

"Sir, no disrespect, but I don't really even want to be a tech analyst anyway." Bryan laughed.

He could not see himself, stuck in a dark room, surrounded by electronics, using nothing but his fingers, to do all the work. Bryan was an action guy – he had to use every bone in his body, when at work. He had to run, he had to fight, he had to duck and avoid bullets. He had to scream at the top of his lungs. He had to kick down doors. He had to lead his team into dangerous situations, but also – away from danger. It was all he had ever known and all he ever wanted to be.

"Why are you narrowing your search?" The teacher raised an eyebrow, now standing behind Angie.

"Because, Sir, the practice case you gave us makes no sense. If we're looking for the fictional UnSub who did this, we must narrow it down. Can't just look for a 30-year old white male in Texas, or we might have the computer explode. Now, looking at victimology, I was able to profile the killer and narrow it down to-…" Angie started explaining, and while it was all legitimately good work, it was not what the assignment was asking of her.

The teacher made a sign and she stopped talking immediately.

"30 year old white male in Texas is what you need to search for." He pointed out and started walking towards the next person.

Angie shot out a very specific number, just seconds after the man had left her side.

He turned around, once again looking at her computer. It was the right number – that was how many people fit that incomplete profile, in Texas. He just had to groan, because he hated how confident she was now, looking back at him with that tiny smirk on her face.

"Have you ever worked in data analysis, Trainee Hunter?" He asked.

"Nope. I just have very basic knowledge of things. And then I sometimes get lucky and I amaze people, like you, with my findings. Although, sometimes I completely suck and it's quite embarrassing, if I say so myself." She chuckled.

"Are you interested in following a path as tech analyst here in the FBI?" He asked, because according to him – she might have some potential.

"Oh, not at all!" She rolled her eyes.

This was the most boring thing she could ever think of. Even being stuck in a lab, doing DNA analysis all day long, sounded way more exciting than doing that – typing stuff on a computer and sitting on your butt for hours.

The man sighed and chose to ignore her for the rest of the class. She was weird and he could not figure her out.

* * *

"Lookin' good, Hunter!" One of the male Trainees called out for her, when everyone gathered up at the Auditorium after lunch break.

She was wearing a pair of simple black leggings, a hot pink sports bra and a sheer light pink sports shirt, with one sleeve falling down her shoulder casually.

"Dude, we all look good in anything other than khaki!" Angie laughed out loud.

Literally no one in the Academy was fond of the color of their pants. The shirts, though, were quite well liked by most Trainees.

"Hello, everyone." Dan announced his arrival in the Auditorium. "Wow, it feels so weird to see all of you in plain clothes." He laughed, checking out the room, full of colors and so many different personalities.

"As you already know, we have asked you to come here and submit your uniforms. On each chair, you will find a bag. Please, fold everything and place it in the bag and don't forget to put your name on the tag. We will take care of printing your names on the uniforms and they will be given back to you tomorrow after PFT, so you can wear them to class. Also, you are getting two more pairs of uniform, each." He spoke, watching everyone do as he said.

"There is one more thing…" He added. "We have added a coffee corner in the common room, in the dorm rooms building. It will be free and available 24/7, to all Trainees."

Everyone cheered, because other than food, they have spent the majority of their money on buying coffee, in order to stay awake and alive during training recently.

"I'm starting to warm up to this new version of the Academy. Although, I miss people kicking my ass." Angie shrugged, walking next to Bryan, now on their way to one of the labs for their next class.

"What are you, a masochist?" He raised an eyebrow. Nobody in their right mind would ever come out with a statement like hers.

"Did you not see me with the whip?" Angie smirked, referring to that night when they had busted the ex-Section Chief's adult entertainment charade.

"Oh, I saw you with the whip, alright…" He sighed. It had taken him days to get the image of that, out of his mind. He did not appreciate her bringing it back up now.

"Speaking of being naughty…" Angie started off, looking all innocent.

"Nobody is speaking of being naughty!" Bryan groaned.

That girl was not afraid to run her mouth. She would literally say whatever the Hell was on her mind and would not give a crap how it would come out.

"Well, _I_ am!" She stated. "So, when are we risking getting into trouble again?"

"Seriously?" Bryan shrugged.

If he had to be honest, he hated being a goody-two-shoes in the Academy. He would much prefer doing something risky and fun.

Angie nodded. She was not kidding.

"Guess now that Amanda's mystery is all done and the whole whip-incident is behind us…we can focus our devilish energy on a new project." He replied.

"Hmm, speaking of devilish now, I kind of want to go back to Devil Child, you know, that bar. I quite like it." Angie said dreamily.

"You only like it because they agreed to play your filthy playlist to a whole bunch of FBI Agents and everyone was drunk enough to enjoy it." Bryan teased. "Plus, that bartender was cute, eh?" He winked at her.

"Didn't know you flock that way, Bry!" She teased him back.

"Oh, girl, you know exactly what I mean." He nudged her.

"Yeah, alright. He was kind of cute, yo." She chuckled.

"Oh, God…you're blushing. And while I know how to handle a pissed off Angela Hunter, I am utterly clueless as to how I can handle…_that_…" He pointed at her cheeks.

"Zip it or you'll be handling a pissed off Hunter in a matter of seconds!" She said threateningly.

"So, should we ditch the study session tonight and go dancing?" Bryan suggested.

"Nah, it's Tuesday night. None of the Agents will be there to see our awesomeness on the dancefloor. How about Saturday night? We can sit and watch grown ass people act a fool while we sippin' free cocktails. But the deal is off if we haven't managed to catch up with all our reading and extra training, am I clear?"

"Ah, right. Because your bartender boy-toy only works the weekends. How could I forget!" He smirked. "Fine, Saturday."

"It's a date!" She squealed, only to make him feel even more uncomfortable.

"I hate you, Angela Hunter!" Bryan stated, only half-joking.

* * *

"Check?" Victor called out, expecting two positive replies or he'd be a very pissed off man.

"In position, Sir."

"All good here, Sir."

He smirked, now standing in front of a house, just a few blocks down the road from the grocery store. After a very quick tour around the neighborhood, he was sure this was the place and the small statue of a blue bird statue that was sitting on the front porch was proof enough for him.

"Okay, people. Let's go have some fun. Ready…" Victor said, holding his watch close to his mouth, to give out the command to everyone who was scattered around the entrances of the house.

"Un…" He started his countdown.

"Deux…" Oh, he was enjoying this very much.

"Trouble!" He said, instead of 'trois' - the French word for the letter three.

On his command, doors got kicked down and windows were breaking from each side of the house.

The sudden commotion disrupted something that the three kidnappers were currently enjoying. They were in the basement, inflicting pain on Richard, in various ways. Weirdly, the fact that they had drugged him, worked in his favor and he barely even registered pain anymore. It had been bad, the first ten minutes, and then it had become a dragged out boring routine that he had been forced to be part of.

He'd surely feel the pain once he was off the high, though.

"Consuelo, debes correr rápido hacia la puerta principal! Pensar en Pedro!" Richard yelled out in Spanish for Consuelo, urging her to run quickly towards the front door, she had to do this for Pedro, her grandson.

The woman hesitated and Richard saw one of the men turning around, to go grab her.

"Estoy bien, por favor corre!" Richard reassured her that he was okay and asked her to run once again.

Consuelo had just brought a kettle of soup downstairs and it didn't sit well with her, leaving this man to suffer. The commotion on the upstairs floor meant trouble, but she had no idea that this was all arranged, in order to save both of them.

"You bad people!" Consuelo yelled at the three kidnappers.

In a moment of rage, emboldened by a sudden superpower when she saw Richard's body all bruised, with blood dropping from his mouth, she picked the kettle up and splashed the boiling soup in the men's faces. It was the best she could do, considering her age.

And then she ran for dear life.

It took the men by surprise, slowing them down and making it hard for them to see straight, with all the burning water and all the hot chilly the woman had used in the soup.

"Damn, that's the cops! Man, that's the cops. We gotta get out of here!" One of the kidnappers screamed, hearing multiple people's footsteps, now searching the ground floor, right above their heads.

"Haha, you wish it was the cops, you dumbass idiots!" Richard laughed. He really was enjoying this, even through the pain and the blood and despite being high as a kite.

"ON THE GROUND!" Victor yelled out when he descended the stairs and found everyone gathered in the basement.

Right after him, eight other people rushed in and surrounded everyone, pointing guns at them.

Victor was not a patient man. If he gave out an order, it had to be followed and none of the men was on the ground yet.

With a glimpse over to Richard, who pointed at the weakest link within the gang crew, Victor now had an aim.

"Told you I want you on the ground. One way or another." Victor yelled angrily after shooting the guy Richard had pointed at.

The other two men looked at each other and put their hands behind their backs, in surrender.

"Who do you think we are? The cops?" Victor laughed and made a gesture over to one of the females that was nearby.

The woman smiled, she was beautiful, and one second later she was punching the crap out of one of the kidnappers until he started spitting blood and ended up on the floor as well. At least he was alive…still.

The third kidnapper was still standing, scared out of his mind. He was outnumbered, outgunned and outsmarted. There was only one way this ended.

"Get the Boss!" Victor commanded and two men of his crew went over to unlock Richard from the web of chains and handcuffs he was now connected to.

If Richard had been graced with a few minutes on his own, he would have picked the locks. And yet, all the time he had spent in the basement, there was always someone with him. All he could have done was wait. _That_ and playing mind games with those bastards, which had given him enormous amounts of pleasure. He had wanted to screw those guys up for months now.

"I'm good." Richard slurred his words, once he was free.

His body felt heavy and it fell against one of his colleagues. He was weak and the drugs in his system were making everything worse.

"I got you, Boss." The man said, holding Richard close.

Who knew? Maybe the only kidnapper standing might go into a crazy shooting spree? He was already a dead man and he knew that, so he had nothing to lose and if he had to open gunfire, he'd surely go after the big boss, the one his gang really hated. And that was Richard.

"Who the Hell are you, people? Are you the rivals?" The kidnapper asked, hands still up in the air.

Nobody was approaching him yet. He just had about nine guns pointed at him, at all times.

Victor was a bit of a wild card. He liked to play with the guys before he'd take what he wanted from them…or kill them. He liked to torture them by being there, by being in control, by being the powerful one. He had learned all of that from his master – Richard.

And they had a method to their madness. They'd look people in the eyes, stare them down, make them forget their own name. Richard had the most chilling look in his eyes, when he played that game. He had even been able to give Victor the chills, on occasion. Mind games were their favorite and they exceled in those. Yes, guns were powerful and blah blah blah. But there was nothing that those two got off on more than a good old-fashioned mind game.

"Can someone please say something?" The kidnapper now got down on his knees, only because he felt them shake uncontrollably. He wasn't able to support his own body weight anymore. Some gang leader he was.

"Three little kitties…" Victor started off, in sing-songy voice, sounding like a complete psycho.

"…playing in the park…" He knelt down next to the first guy, the one he had shot.

"Oops, two little kitties…playing in the park…" He corrected himself, still singing the same song, but now walking towards the second one, who had gotten his ass kicked by the woman and who was now lying on the floor unconscious, but seemingly dead to everyone.

Victor checked for a pulse and decided to bluff.

"Ay ay ay…" He shook his head, looking at the third one, the alpha one, now on his knees like a good submissive player.

"One little kitty…" Victor moved towards him ever so slowly.

His eyes pierced through this man's skin, concentrating on the left side of his chest area. This would have given the man an idea, or two, as to what Victor had in store for him.

Victor put his hand up in the air and, as if on cue, someone from his team put a knife in it.

"…playing with my knife…" He continued his chilling song, whispering so that it would be audible only by the kidnapper.

Richard was pissed off. Why did he have to be drugged? It would have been so much fun to witness that scene, sober. He loved seeing Victor in action and he was on top of his game when Richard's well-being had been compromised, which was the current case.

"Meow meow, kitty…" Victor whispered to the other guy once again, letting the knife trail from the middle of his forehead, down to the side of his left cheek, down his neck, pressing just enough to make him feel pain, but not cut his skin.

"You mess with Louis Andrè Renard…" Victor continued, pointing at Richard.

He hadn't even bothered stripping this man of his gun. It was still visible, poking out of the belt of his jeans. Victor was not worried, not even the tiniest little bit. He knew exactly how to make him purr on all fours, even if he was armed still.

"You mess with _all_ the Family…" He continued his sentence, looking around at all the back-up he had.

"But worst of all…" The journey of his knife came to a stop once it was pressed against the man's chest.

He heard him suck in a breath. There was something so satisfying about those last moments, when someone knew what was going to happen to them.

"…You mess with _me_!" Finally, he ended his sentence.

His team was giving him all the time he needed. They were ready to roll, but they wanted Victor to enjoy this a little longer.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay?" The kidnapper decided that it would be a good idea to make a plea for his life.

"Look, I'm not even the boss here. I'm just the middle man. They told us to grab this guy, we didn't know it was…him. We're not crazy! We would have _never_ jumped Louis Andrè Renard! We had no idea what he looks like, man, come on, you know nobody in our world has ever seen this man's real face. Come on, man. I'm sorry!" He spoke frantically.

Victor sighed with relief when he heard the part of his statement that nobody had seen Louis' real face. That was good to know. The rest was useless crap.

"What did you want him for?" Victor asked, suddenly the knife pushing this man's chin upwards until their eyes leveled.

"I don't know. We saw him snooping around our territory right when we were getting ready for our big bust and our boss said he could be a cop or a narc or someone from the other mafia. They told us to grab him and to shake him up real good until he spilled the truth. Man, when we found out who he was…" He shook his head, looking like the mere definition of regret.

"Well, guess what?" Victor urged this man to stand up, still holding the knife against his neck.

"You are now property of 'the other mafia', as you so kindly call us. So, it's our turn to shake you up real good." He grinned.

"Fuck…so it's really you?" The man gulped, feeling the tip of the knife poke harder, as he did so.

"Who the Hell did you think we are? The Good Fairies!?" Victor looked at the floor. Two of this guy's men were down. He was the only one standing and he was fearing for his life, rightfully so. The obvious next move was to get him to cooperate.

"Wait, no. Where are you taking me?" The man asked, after Victor gave him a hard push towards the stairs.

"Like I said, you belong to us now. If you have a problem with that, please let us know right away. We have no problem with another body dropping to that floor." Victor replied chillingly cold, looking over to the other two kidnappers' bodies.

"N-no. Please. I'll do whatever you want!" The guy caved in almost too easily. It hadn't been the most satisfying scene Victor had participated in, but he'd enjoyed it nonetheless.

Victor tossed him over to one of his colleagues, to get dragged upstairs and outside, where a few cars were waiting for them, while he remained downstairs with a bunch of his other friends.

"Well played, Vic!" The woman who had jumped the second kidnapper, gave Victor a high five.

"Alright. I need Richard and Consuelo to be dropped at the hospital. I need this pathetic other one riding in a car, to our bunker. Throw him in there and leave him with no food, no water, for 24 hours. Let reality sink in before we have our fun with him. And we also need a body bag for this one…" He pointed at the first guy, the one he had shot himself, while walking down the stairs, as soon as he had entered the basement.

"And this one here…" He checked for pulse again, on the second guy. He was beaten up and unconscious, but still very much alive. "Take him to our medical room. Get him to gather some conscious and tell him his two gang pals are dead. We need to separate the two alive ones, make them believe each one of them is the only one that made it out alive. Let's see who cracks first."

"Oh and call our cleaner. We don't want this to get…messy." Victor added and two of the guys nodded. They knew exactly how to take care of this situation.

The guys hurried with what they needed to do, while Victor was finally able to pay Richard some attention.

"Hey, bro. Lookin' dapper!" He teased, checking Richard out.

"Shut up or we'll need one more body bag." Richard said through pain and gritted teeth. The drugs were starting to wear off.

"Good, he's alright when his humor is intact. Welcome back to the living…again!" Victor gave Richard's shoulder a tiny slap, which he instantly regretted, as he saw Richard wince. He hadn't meant to hurt him.

"Guys, be precise!" Richard commanded, now being helped up by both Victor and one other man.

"We don't do sloppy jobs and we don't want the police anywhere near this. Understood?" Richard continued speaking. Even all broken, he still oozed pride and respect. Victor was a little jealous of that.

"Yes, Boss. Don't worry!" The guy whom Richard had been leaning against until now, spoke.

"Also, Boss…" He spoke again. "It's so nice to have you back!"

Richard smiled back at the guy. He was much younger than him and he had been working for him for a while now. Richard loved the feedback he was getting from his people. He knew they worshipped him and he knew they would do just about anything for him. He wasn't the typical Boss, the one who'd be secretly hated by everyone. No. His employees loved and respected him and they sure treated him as a friend, unless they were in a work environment where they'd have to look all stern. Yes, they would always call him Sir, but they adored that man for everything he was, underneath that perfectly tailored, custom made suite of his.

Minutes later, everything had been taken care of. Everyone was in the cars, going in different directions.

"Mr. Richard!" Consuelo threw her arms around him as soon as he sat next to her, in one of the cars that was going towards the hospital.

"You told her your real name!?" Someone from his crew gasped.

"She's not an enemy. She had the right to know!" Richard hugged her back, almost feeling a few of his bones crack as he did so. But it was okay, both of them were okay.

"Consuelo, you are one brave Latina woman and I want you to know how proud I am of you and your courage!" He said to her, with one hand trailing up and down her back, calming her down as she was now crying uncontrollably.

Victor was in the passenger's seat and he caught a glimpse of it all, through the back view mirror. It warmed his heart. He knew Richard was an incredibly good guy, but each time he connected with an innocent victim, it just confirmed that over and over again.

They drove back to the city, so they could go to the usual hospital they attended after every...well, work-related outing.

"Oh, Richard…hello." A young, attractive, blonde and very eager doctor welcomed him with a huge smile.

"Hello, my favorite doctor." Richard winked at her.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time?" She asked, with something naughty in her eyes.

Victor rolled his eyes for a brief second. If only that woman could do so, she'd be naked, on top of Richard, as soon as she had laid eyes on him. She was _that_ obvious, and she always had been.

"Oh, a few wonderful bruises in a few…hidden places." Richard laughed, before introducing his guest. "This is Consuelo. I need you to check on her first. I believe she is unharmed, other than the psychological shock she's been through. So, get her to see a doctor and then I am all yours." He said gently.

The doctor walked away, eager to toss Consuelo to the first other doctor she saw, so she could have her hands all over Richard and his hidden bruises, as fast as she could.

"Dude, she's so into you." Victor smirked.

"Dude, she's desperate!" Richard could not help but cringe. He never liked desperate women.

"She's also blonde, a doctor and smoking hot." Victor pointed out.

"For the millionth time, Victor – I do _not_ like blonde women! And she's the furthest thing from hot, with those scrubs and that…what is that, a hat?" Richard eyed her, walking away.

"Well, she'd be hot without those scrubs, eh?" Victor tried to place a different image of her, in Richards head, but he failed. "And those hats, gloves and masks are for sanitary reasons, not for vanity."

"I don't care, I don't like her and I'm not sleeping with her. Now zip it." Richard grunted, watching as the woman was now walking back towards them.

"Then why are you all smiling and nice to her?"

"Because the last time I rejected her pathetic advances, I walked out of here with three more stitches than what I needed. She was ruthless. And the bitch didn't even give me the good meds, so I felt every poke of the damned needle, ugh!" Richard was now whispering, as she was getting closer to them.

"Well, have fun pretending to not be aroused by _those_…" Victor pointed at the doctor's chest before he walked away.

"_Lauren's were way nicer_…" Richard muttered to himself grumpily.


	67. Good Guys Dress In Black, Remember That

** CHAPTER 67**

_**GOOD GUYS DRESS IN BLACK, REMEMBER THAT**_

"What's the plan?" Reid asked, waiting by the fence, along with the rest of the team.

Everyone's eyes were now on Prentiss.

The last time she had taken a decision for the team, one extra person had suffered the consequences. Needless to say, Emily Prentiss had to be freaking out now, having to take another decision. Worst of all, it happened when her case assistant had turned into the UnSub's latest victim. Life kind of sucked for Emily Prentiss at the moment.

But…did it, really?

She kept her head held high and thought for a brief moment.

"We are breaching. If the UnSub already completed his fantasy and he now has two more victims on his hands, he no longer needs to wait. He would feel the urge to get rid of them. So, every second we spend out here, means a second less for JJ and that poor child." Emily said, with absolutely no hint of stress in her voice, or on her face.

"On three…" She added, making a sign in the air, for the team to follow her lead.

"I don't know what has gotten into her…" Reid leaned over Rossi's shoulder, whispering. "…But I like _this_ Prentiss. Like, a lot!"

Rossi nodded with a smirk. There had been _no_ doubt in his mind that Emily would step up her game, after last month's case. It took something as stressful as possibly losing someone from the team, for her to wake up and start thinking clearly. And she was killing it.

Rossi kept his eyes on Emily as they slowly made their way to the house. Matt, Tara and Alvez secured the back-door, while the rest of the team got into position on the veranda upfront.

_"__Yes, be the kick-ass Emily I know you are!"_ Rossi said in his mind, his unspoken encouraging words directed to a woman he deeply loved and respected for so many years now.

"Carlton Webber?" Emily called out, her first bumping against the front door once she received confirmation that everyone was in position.

"FBI, open up!" Her hand was now on the grip, realizing the door was cracked open. How convenient.

"Mhhhhh." A muffled sound of someone in pain, came from inside the house.

This was their official invite inside, now having a valid suspicion, thus a cause to search the house, and Emily wasted no time in kicking that door down, even if it was open. There was something so satisfying in watching an old rusty door hit the floor with a loud bang. She now understood why Morgan always did that, back in his glory days, when he was still with the team. It was all about dominance, power, being the one in control.

"Blood!" Emily pointed out, as soon as they walked in.

There were blood stains on the floor, as if someone had dragged a bleeding body from the living room to the exit door. They presumed that, given the direction of the stains, those could not have been from neither JJ nor the child.

"Must be from the previous victims." Reid commented.

"Guys…" Emily pointed to the living room, making her way there quickly.

She spotted a shoe, sticking out from behind a big rocking chair.

Last time she had seen this very same shoe, it had been on a mannequin, in quite the fancy shop, and she had been begging JJ to buy it for herself. If Emily Prentiss knew something in life, with certainty, it was shoes.

Now this shoe had blood on it and was abandoned by an old man's chair.

"Mmmmmh!" Another desperate moan came from the living room.

"Carlton, drop the metal bar, step away from the girl and slowly put your hands in the air." Emily commanded, walking in and assessing the situation.

JJ was bound and gagged, glued to a kitchen chair that the man had clearly been kind enough to drag into the living room, only for her.

The child was nowhere to be seen.

JJ's bare foot swung and with her tip toes she pointed in direction of the back-yard.

Emily got that hint and something dawned on her – Tara, Simmons and Alvez had not yet entered the house. They were the ones guarding the back door.

The UnSub had a metal bar in one hand, one of those sticks that people would use for the fireplace. It was held right above JJ's head, threateningly.

The man looked freaked out. Emily could read it on his face that he knew he was busted and he knew everything was over. She had no doubt he knew his end was coming and that he would not mind if that end was a bullet to the head. Therefore, he would be ready and willing to hurt one more person, even if it were a federal agent.

"The girl you are holding hostage, she is from the FBI. Now, Carlton, you don't want to do this…" Rossi started off, his tactics being negotiation.

"It won't work." Emily said out loud completely undermining Rossi's authority. It was not working on the UnSub anyway.

"He doesn't care. Do you, Carlton? To you she is just a number. What is it, nineteen? Twenty, if you have already killed the child? Wasn't that the plan? To kill twenty people, to finish those twenty years of god service at the station? You deserve the reward, the praise, the one that was roughly taken away from you by your boss, don't you?" Emily walked over to him, only after dropping her gun.

"Prentiss, what are you doing?" Reid squeaked from the corner, keeping his gun pointed at the man.

"No? You haven't killed the kid yet? I wonder why…" Emily spoke slowly, but with a very ironic undertone, one that a reporter would definitely catch.

"Maybe because you realized the child is not fair competition, huh? He's too small. It wouldn't give you any satisfaction. So I guess you dumped him somewhere and you're hoping we'd find and kill you, before you'd have to get rid of him, too. Isn't that right?" She said challengingly, now standing closer to him.

Carlton gulped, looking even more psyched out. His eyes were big, as if he had been drinking, his breath reeked of alcohol anyway, and his veins were about to burst, for whatever reason.

"That's right. Because you find a seventeen year old, helpless high-school kid more of a fair opponent. This is how you see yourself – a weak, pathetic man, who can only take on a weak, innocent girl. But the moment you saw this boy, abused by his father, you needed to save him…" Emily kept talking and with her last words she completely lost both Reid and Rossi.

"You heard me. You saw the abuse and you saw yourself in that child. No, you did not kidnap him to kill him. You are not capable of that. Instead, you wanted to save him, the same way you wish someone would have saved you when you were nine years old and your old pops came back from work, drink and messed up. Isn't that right, Carlton?"

Rossi finally caught up with her game. However, Garcia never told them any facts that would suggest this kind of abuse in Carlton's early years. And Emily seemed so damn sure in her words. So what was it? Was she bluffing? Or was she really a damn good profiler?

The UnSub started feeling ill-at-ease. Emily noticed his hand twitch, yet it was still above JJ's head, holding the metal bar.

JJ's foot kept on pointing towards the backyard. Emily could not ignore that fact any longer.

"Reid…" She muttered and he understood the command.

Leaving just Rossi with a gun pointed at the UnSub, Reid walked away, searching for the back door.

"I didn't want to save _him_." Carton said weakly. "I wanted to save his _soul_." He added, which freaked Emily out.

She had figured the motive for kidnapping the child was connected to the UnSub's childhood. However, she did not realize that he did not want to put an end to the child's presumed abuse, in a very conventional way.

A loud splash startled everyone. JJ started moving her head left and right, as if she was trying to get rid of the gag, so she could speak.

Carlton swayed the metal bar and Emily, being unarmed, could only do one thing – she jumped at him, tackling him to the floor and disarming him before he could even blink.

"Oh, yes, Emily!" Rossi muttered underneath his breath, loving every second of this fight for dominance.

He stood beside them, but he did not interfere. Emily could do this on her own. She _needed_ to do it on her own.

"Daddy? Where is my daddy?" A young voice was heard, screaming in the back yard.

When Emily placed the handcuffs on the man's hands, she passed him on to Rossi before she let JJ free.

"ChayChay, are you okay?" She whispered, holding her close and feeling her fastened heartbeat.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. He just hit me on the head, that's how he overpowered me. I'll be okay. But the kid, he's in the-…" JJ spoke frantically, still pointing to the back yard.

Instinctively, Emily helped JJ stand up after she released her from the ropes and they walked out to meet the rest of her team.

Luke and Matt were completely soaked in water, and so was the child, who was now sitting on the edge of a small swimming pool, spitting water, coughing and crying his heart out.

Emily noticed Matt and Luke started going around the back yard, searching for something. They came back with a pair of gardening scissors, cutting a rope that was attached to the kid's hands and feet. At the end of the rope, there was a large stone.

"Oh my God!" Emily exclaimed.

It now downed on her what the UnSub meant when he said he wanted to save the child's soul. His plan had been to drawn the poor kid.

The kid was freaking out. He could barely take a breath, but he kept asking for his daddy. Neither Luke nor Matt were able to get closer to him, without him screaming his water-filled lungs out. They were men, and a man had just tried to kill him, he was old enough to understand that. And he wouldn't let another man closer to him now. Emily could relate to this kind of emotional damage. She had suffered it, for years.

"Hey? Hey…" Emily said softly, already standing by the boy's side.

She sat down by the pool and held her hands out. The boy instinctively moved closer and let Emily hold him.

No matter how wet and cold her clothes got instantly, there was a certain feeling she was glad to be feeling at that moment.

Warmth.

The little boy's head rested against Emily's shoulder and he just stood there, in her arms, while crying uncontrollably.

"Shh, it's okay." She whispered, her hands rubbing his back, in desperate attempts to warm him up.

"It's okay, nothing bad is going to happen to you." She added, allowing her chin to now rest on top of his head, as she looked down at the innocent little creature that was in her arms.

His breath smelled like cotton candy and his clothes reeked of chlorine from the swimming pool.

"Why are you scared?" He looked up at her, his question startling her.

"What?" Emily shook her head. "I'm not."

"I can feel your heartbeat." The boy argued.

"It's…" Emily sighed. There was really no way she could explain to a child exactly _what_ was going on underneath the hard outer shell of Emily Prentiss – the Unit Chief.

"Old people business?" The boy suggested, having heard his parents use this phrase whenever he would ask uncomfortable questions.

Emily bit her lip, preventing herself from disliking him, now that he had called her _old_.

"Exactly." She nodded in agreement.

"Do I remind you of someone?" The boy was not about to give up his passion of asking all the random questions in the world.

Emily assessed the situation. She had been staring at his face since he had looked up. He must have noticed it and therefore, he must have assumed that he reminded her of someone and that was why her heart was beating so fast. Smart boy. He had a future as a profiler.

"Yes…" Emily gulped, suddenly looking away from him, as if she could not take the pain of admitting that fact.

"But _you_ are safe now." She added, stroking his wet hair with one hand and holding him close to her, with the other.

Tara and Matt had gone back inside the house to stay with JJ, who was perfectly able to stand up and walk on her own. She had been unharmed, so far. The blow to the head would give her some migraine, but overall she was okay.

Rossi had taken the UnSub to the car and Reid was now keeping him company, annoying the crap out of the man by talking about quantum physics.

That allowed Rossi to go back for the rest of the team. He had been standing behind Emily, watching the scene unravel, right in front of his eyes. He could hear the boy's words and he could see the side of Emily's face, as she cringed, as she bit her lips, as she masked pain, so she could only show bravery to this little boy. He saw how she responded to his questions and it broke his heart a little bit.

One time, years ago, Prentiss had shared a very personal piece of information with him and her words had stayed with him. To this day, Rossi remembered each word, each breath she took, each time she licked her lips, trying not to break down in front of him, as she had told him a painful memory from her teenage past.

Seeing her now, with the boy, reminded him of that day. He was smart enough to know that pain was not transferrable, and yet, he felt like he could feel each bit of pain, confusion and regret that Emily was feeling at that moment.

As usual, he kept quiet about it. He respected Emily way too much and he would never meddle with her personal life, unless it would be to _save_ her life. Then, he would definitely be getting involved.

"You know what? Your daddy is waiting for you at the police station." Emily tried to stand up, urging the kid to do the same, but he would not move.

"It's okay. We're the good guys." She extended her hand for him to hold, but he was still adamant.

"How do I know that's true?" The kid asked, remembering each time his parents had told him not to trust strangers.

"The good guys dress in black, remember that." Emily smirked and it worked on the kid.

"She did not just win a kid over, quoting Will Smith's _Men in Black_…did she?" Luke pointed out, somewhat proud of Emily's achievement. He loved that damn song a little bit too much, it was embarrassing.

"She once interviewed an UnSub, using mainly quotes from rap songs. It was hilarious, actually." Reid commented.

If he had to be honest, he only knew these were rap song lyrics because JJ and Garcia had been right by his side, translating everything. And he had never felt so embarrassed to hear such colorful things being said, so quickly and in such a complex way, all coded and just...completely new to him.

The little boy was now walking to the front yard, where the black SUV was parked and waiting for them. His hand was holding on to Emily's and he was looking up at her as they walked, as if to make sure she really was one of the good guys. What if she had cheated? She was, indeed, wearing a dark blue shirt…and that was not black. Was she half-good, half-bad then? That is what the kid's logic pointed to.

JJ walked right behind them, with Reid and Rossi on each side. She was a little shocked, but that was only because she had been scared out of her mind, because of the child. No harm had been done to her, in any kind of way. She had just been thrown on the chair, where she awaited the team to figure it all out. There was no doubt in her mind they would. She knew that Emily would figure it out on her own.

Apparently, as Emily had suspected, the UnSub had been done with his revenge, having completed all four numbers that came up in the comedy sketch. However, the way JJ had undermined him, on TV, had struck a nerve and he had gone there, passing as a reporter, just wanting to confront her. Then, he had seen a father who seemed to be abusive towards his son. The UnSub had no idea that the man had only shushed his son so rudely, because he was interested in hearing all the information, so he could go home and protect the mother of the child from this abductor that JJ was talking about during her press conference.

That was when the UnSub's rage had shifted, from JJ to the father. It had struck a nerve in him, reminding him of his own unfortunate upbringing and his own father who had never been there for him. At some point, the child had let go of his father's hand and he had walked over to the nearby trees, desperately needing to pee. JJ had noticed a child, wandering off to the woods, disappearing in the crowd of angry reporters, and her motherly instincts had kicked in. She had cut her conference short, rushing through her last question before following the child, intending on bringing him back to his father. However, walking to the more secluded area, she had been too focused on finding the child and she had not heard the UnSub, coming from behind her, hitting her in the head. And then she was unconscious. The man then had no other option but to grab both the child and this woman, whom he wasn't really fond of anyway. He figured, this last hit would be double the score for his sick little game. He could save the child's soul and he could get his revenge on the woman who dared undermine him, the same way his boss at the TV station had undermined his twenty years of loyal service.

His van had been parked nearby, giving him the best clean getaway possible. After dragging both of his victims to the van, he had seen the kid's father, going around and yelling for the child to come out of hiding. The UnSub then knew that the father would make a scene and they were surrounded by cops, so his getaway was now compromised, so he had hit the father and left him on the ground, unconscious as well. He was not an important piece to his puzzle anyway. The father had woken up more than half an hour later, before he had entered the police station, asking for help, giving the UnSub enough time to reach his house and put his plan in motion – tying JJ to the chair and then throwing the boy in the pool, just seconds before the BAU team had breached the house.

"You okay?" Emily turned around after helping the kid get in the back seat. She was now facing JJ.

"Mhm, yeah." JJ nodded.

"Where are you going?" The kid asked, watching Emily close the door and walk over to the other car.

The window was cracked open, so Emily could hear every bit of pain in this little boy's voice when he realized that she was walking away.

Without much thinking about it, she tossed her car keys to Rossi, who was now supposed to drive half of the team back to the police station, while Emily sat in the back of the other car, where the child was.

The police arrived at that moment, taking the UnSub into their custody, and the team made its way to the police station, following the officers' cars.

JJ was riding in the passenger's seat of the car where Emily and the kid were. She could not help but shoot a few curious glances over to the back seat while Luke was driving. There was something on her mind.

Emily, in turn, was focused solely on the child, after her brief interaction with JJ. The boy was leaning against her, his head falling heavily against her thigh, in attempts of getting comfortable in a somewhat laying down position. She made a great pillow, even if she was so slim and he could feel her bones, all firm and defined. She reminded him of his mother – also slim, petite, dark hair and a beautiful smile. Each time he looked up, Emily smiled down at him. One of his hands was squeezing her hand the entire ride back to the Police Station, and the thing that comforted him the most was the fact that Emily was squeezing it back. It wasn't a one sided plea for comfort. It was most definitely mutual.

* * *

"Abuelita!" A child yelled in Spanish, running down the hospital hallway and ending up in Consuelo's arms.

"Pedro, mi amor!" Consuelo said through tears.

She had just been checked by the doctors and there wasn't even a scratch on her body. She was completely unharmed, apart from the emotional damage the three kidnappers had left her to deal with.

Richard was waiting on his test results and he had insisted on keeping Consuelo company in the hallway, even if he was given a fancy room all to himself. He didn't want to invite her to the room, she must be scared of small rooms and strangers by now. So, they sat in the hallway, waiting for her family and also for the doctors to give her final permission to leave.

His eyes got glued to the child and the sparkles in Consuelo's eyes as she reunited with him just warmed Richard's heart.

"Pedro, this is man who save my life. He is policeman, big and strong!" Consuelo introduced them, so that the child would give her some privacy, to talk to the rest of her family who was waiting to hear the unfiltered truth about Consuelo's nightmare for the past few days. The child did not need to hear those awful things.

Richard took that as a sign to give them some privacy and he acted on it.

"Hi, I'm Richard. And I am most definitely not a cop." He cringed. He had nothing against cops, it was just…something he hated being called.

"I'm Pedro. I've always wanted to be a policeman!" The child said with a grin.

"Oh yeah? What if I told you I had a better offer, huh? How about…" Richard leaned in and whispered something to the kid.

"Shut up! No way. Really? That is so cool!" Pedro almost yelled from the excitement. "Can I try out for that?"

"Tell you what, you're a bit too young to be making that choice for yourself right now. Let a few years go by, maybe ten or so…and then if you still want it, come find me. Okay?" Richard smiled and handed the boy his business card. His _real_ business card.

He looked over to Consuelo who seemed like she was about to cry. Surely she wouldn't want her grandson to see her like this, so Richard nodded at the woman and when she smiled back, it was as if she gave him permission to do what was on his mind.

"You know, Pedro, they have the good candy here. I saw some cool vending machines two floors up from here. Wanna go check them out? Oh and they have the best hot chocolate, too." Richard grabbed the wallet that Victor had been nice enough to leave him before he went back to Richard's place to go grab him some clothes and essentials, for his stay at the hospital. Unfortunately, he'd have to be there for at least 48 hours, because of the physical torture and also, the drugs he had been given.

Pedro asked permission from his mother before leaving with Richard, who whispered to the woman that he would be back with the child in half an hour. He figured it would be enough time for a good family reunion.

They went upstairs and raided the vending machines before Pedro asked to go sit on the terrace, overlooking the hospital parking lot.

It was a bit windy, but it wasn't cold, so Richard agreed to hang out there for a bit. He pushed the door open and let the child walk out on the terrace, while he was juggling four packs of sweets and candy and two medium cups of hot chocolate.

"Sir, you dropped this when you and your son walked out." A man came up to Richard, handing him the wallet that must have slipped off from his back pocket while Richard was struggling with the door, just seconds ago.

"Thanks. He's not uh, not my son…" Richard frowned, feeling the tips of his fingers icy cold as he reached out to get the wallet from this unknown man's hands.

"Sorry, my bad. You just seemed…you seemed like a natural." The man said before excusing himself and walking back in.

"How old are your children?" Pedro sat by Richard's side, on a small chair, and he spoke casually while checking out the many cars, parked underneath them.

"I don't have any…children…of my own…" It was now his heart that felt cold. There was a certain pain that he could not get over.

"Why? You would be an awesome dad. Do you know how proud your kids would be, with a dad like you, with a job like yours? Wow." Pedro was young and so naïve. He liked the idea of Richard's job, however he had no clue what the job actually entailed.

"I never really had the chance to be a real father…" Richard kept trailing off. He only ever did that when he doubted himself or his words and that was practically _never_, in his life.

"Don't you want kids?" Pedro kept on asking, unable to sense how uncomfortable he was making Richard feel.

"I would actually _love_ to have children…" Once again, he trailed off. His mind was busy, thinking of something in his past.

"Then tell your wife you want kids. That's what my parents did, they keep saying they want to give me a little brother or a sister. They talk about it all the time, actually."

Richard laughed, wondering about all the possible innuendos that Pedro must not have caught on, while his parents discussed that.

"It's complicated. I'm not married…anymore. And I'm not the age of your parents. It's not as easy as you might think." Richard shrugged.

"Well, get married again and then have some children. See? It's _very_ easy." Pedro grinned. Was he already sugar high or was he just a very persistent young boy?

"I wish it was possible…" Richard gulped hard, thinking about the mess his life really was, behind the curtains.

The woman he had feelings for, had no idea who the Hell he was and if she did, she would never look at him again. Then there was also the age factor – by now he could have had a twenty-something year old daughter or son. The possibility of him even being a grandfather, was giving him the chills. Then again, he'd be a very sexy grandfather and he knew it.

And yes, there was also one more fact about him that he tried really hard to ignore. And that fact had a name. He simply could not bring himself to even think about it. This had been years ago and he had been an idiot not to hold on to what he had. Then again, life had different plans for him.

"You know Pedro, you speak French perfectly. Are you bilingual, with Spanish?" Richard changed the subject quickly.

"Yes, we speak Spanish at home and I go to school with French kids. I study English too. I like languages, my teacher says I have a good pronunciation." The child grinned.

Richard could tell he was bright and ambitious. God help him, he reminded him of someone he used to know.

"It's good to know languages. You can travel to many places when you grow up. You can start a business and make it international. Keep on studying, young boy." He messed with his hair a little bit.

Richard was unaware that someone had been watching them from inside the building. They were glued to the window, overlooking the terrace, just observing his interaction with the boy.

"I wish I could take the extra classes in English, but they are expensive and my parents can't afford it. They already pay too much for my school. It's a good school." Pedro frowned.

"Oh yeah? Which school do you go to?" Richard asked, this time switching to English. They had spoken in French so far, but he wanted to test Pedro's English as well.

"I go to Victor Hugo School, situated at 23, Rue de Cronstadt, Sir." Pedro replied, showing good level of English and also, impressive pronunciation.

"Funny, my best friend's name is Victor! I like that name. And I also know where your school is, I've seen it. It's a good school, nice neighborhood, with a park nearby, lots of fun things around the school. Hey, can you promise me something?" Richard chuckled, watching Pedro struggle with one of the candy packages.

He took the package from the boy's hands and opened it for him before letting him take one candy out. Richard figured that Pedro would need both hands, to hold his hot chocolate and to eat his candy, so he didn't want to hand him the entire package to have to juggle with. He knew the pack would end up spilling on the floor in the matter of seconds, so he offered to hold it for him, instead.

Pedro thanked him with a nod before he popped the candy in his mouth.

"What?" He asked curiously. He liked promising things, but only when he knew he could keep his promises.

"If you promise me you will work hard in school, keep your grades up and stay out of trouble as you grow up, I can promise you to give you a chance to apply for your Teen Internship program, at my work. How does that sound? It's like a camp where you learn about the things we do. It's like…career orientation, for teenagers."

As tempting as that sounded, Pedro was not stupid.

"No. By the time I am a teenager, you would have forgotten about me and about your promise." He frowned.

"Oh, trust me when I say this, I _never_ forget about the kids I make promises to. Ever!" Richard said, feeling that sudden pain in his chest once again.

"Ok then, I promise. I really want to know what your job is like. That would be cool!" With those words, Pedro's eyes sparkled, just thinking how amazing that experience could be.

"Good, we have a deal then. Now we should go back in before your family starts to worry." Richard looked at the time and it had been a bit over twenty minutes now.

"A girl or a boy?" Pedro asked when Richard was holding the door for him once again, but this time for him to walk back inside.

"Huh?" He asked, confused.

"If you had a child, would you want a daughter or a son?" Pedro had been curious, he just needed to know. Personally, he wanted a baby brother, so recently he had been going around, asking people about the gender of choice for a hypothetical child or sibling of theirs.

"I would be happy to have a healthy, happy child." Richard replied vaguely, but saw Pedro cross his arms unhappily.

"Okay fine. I have always wanted to have a daughter…" He gave up and just said it out loud.

Anyone who _really_ knew Richard, knew he wanted a daughter. They also knew the reason why.

"What would you name her?" Pedro kept on asking.

Why was Richard dumb enough to believe that if he answered the first question, there won't be others to come?

"I don't know. I've never really thought about it. Like I said, I don't think that having children is possible for me anymore…"

"I bet you would give her an international name. She would be really pretty. My daddy says that boys look like their mothers, so everyone tells me I look like my mom. So then girls must look like their dads, right? Your daughter would be tall like you and smart like you and she will have cool eyes, like yours."

Richard almost passed out. This was not a conversation he'd expect from a kid Pedro's age.

People always commented on Richard's eyes. He kind of hated it, because it was the first thing that women pointed out, when trying to get with him. It was pathetic. He could not help the way he looked. Yes, he could have toned down the work-out sessions and he could have grown a beer belly, like the other men his age, but his eyes were not something he could control. They were just there and they were the way they were.

"Sounds like I'd be the luckiest dad in the world, if I had a daughter like that…" He sighed as they approached Pedro's family down the hallway.

The child forgot all about Richard once he cuddled with his mother. It was then that Richard saw the similarity – Pedro had his dad's darker skin and his dark hair, but he was a copy of his mother in any other way. The figure, the nose, the chin, the eyes…Pedro was identical to his mom.

"No, no. We're not going there again." Victor tapped Richard's shoulder, as if to bring him back to reality from wherever his mind had just taken him to.

He had spied on his interaction with Pedro for a few minutes before he had gone to see how Consuelo was doing and he had waited for Richard and Pedro there, with Pedro's family.

"Thank you, Richard. You strong, beautiful man! I invite you to dinner with my family, you meet my other children there. I will cook some Latino food for you. Bring your beautiful woman, one you told me you in love with. She will love my food. They say, my dessert is an aphrodisiac, eh?" Consuelo added cheekily, making Richard blush profoundly.

He had not expected that.

"Oh, the woman he loves?" Victor smirked. "Yup, she's his very own aphrodisiac after dinner, if I shall say so."

"Shut up, you're a jerk!" Richard whispered to Victor, intending on killing him, the second they'd be on their own.

"You have a girlfriend? See? It's easy to have kids now. Go tell her you want kids!" Pedro jumped at the chance to further humiliate Richard.

It was bad enough that, in a moment of trying to get closure with Consuelo, bound and beaten up, Richard had told her about the woman he liked, but now it was all coming back to bite him in the ass.

"I would love to come, thank you. But I cannot promise _she_ will be there. I hope so, but I don't think it will be possible." Richard smiled, replying to Consuelo. He disregarded Pedro's question, hoping that Victor wouldn't have caught on that.

"I go home now. Thank you. Here I wrote down my number, you call me and you tell me when you can come to dinner, ok?" Consuelo spoke and so far he had learned to not even notice those small errors she made when she spoke French. She was adorable, grammar didn't really make any difference.

"Thank you. I will be giving you a call. Also, Pedro and I now have a deal, so you best believe you will be seeing me again." He waved at everyone and watched them walk towards the elevator.

Just before the elevator door opened, Pedro ran back and surprised Richard, giving him a tight hug.

"Thank you for bringing abuelita back home safely. You are my hero and I want to grow up to be just like you, one day!"

His words almost made Richard cry. He was a big, tough guy. It took a lot to make him cry and yet, such a small human being was able to make him feel emotional, with just a few words.

"Remember our promise, okay? If you still want it, ten years from now I will make sure you get the guidance you need, to get into my profession." He said with a smile.

"And then I can save people's lives, too?" Pedro jumped with joy.

"Oh, this job is about so much more than that. But yes, you can save people's lives, generally speaking." Richard pat the boy's shoulder. Poor thing had no idea what Richard's job actually entailed, but he didn't want to crush his dreams at such a tender age.

"Goodbye Richard. I hope you get to have the daughter you've always wished for." Pedro waved at him once again before he ran back to the elevator and he disappeared quickly.

"…Richard?" Victor said threateningly.

"Okay, okay…Fine. I know. I just…he was asking. I couldn't help it. He's a child, come on. He didn't even understand half the things I said to him." Richard's shoulders rose up a bit.

"Then why did you say those things?" Victor seemed pissed.

"I don't know. I guess, after all those years, I just needed to come out and say it. Okay? No big deal. Can you shut up now?"

"No!" Victor replied sternly. He wouldn't let Richard off the hook so easily.

"He's a child. He's not a mafia guy who would do something with what I told him. would you relax? You don't even know what I said to him…"

"That you've always wanted to have a daughter…that you've always wanted kids…that it was not possible for you anymore?" Victor raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Wait, Pedro only mentioned the 'daughter' part in front of you…" Suspicion rose in Richard. How did Victor know the rest of it?

"We are trained to read lips, you idiot!"

"You spied on me? On _ME_? Victor!" Richard whined, feeling like his privacy rights had been violated.

"You best believe I'm going to spy on your ass each time I think you're doing something stupid and going down a rocky path you've walked barefoot before. Now chin up, shut up and show me the way to your room, would you?" Victor knew he had to be stern, if he wanted to get through to Richard.

And Richard knew that Victor was doing it out of love.

"Why is it such an awful thing to mention my-…" Richard started, but Victor did not allow him to end that sentence.

"Because if you want to keep someone alive, you never speak those words out loud. Not in our line of work. Do you understand?" Victor was now raging. He was one step away from beating Richard's ass up.

"But I don't want to live in denial about-…"

"Shut up, Richard!" Victor yelled on top of his words, once again before Richard would be able to finish his sentence.

"You know I'm right and you know the delicacy of this situation. Don't make me yell at you in public. Leave that to the PM, in a couple of days." Victor added, finally breaking the news to Richard.

"Wait, the Prime Minister wants to talk? Damn it, not again!" With one hand on his forehead, Richard groaned in annoyance.

"He _personally_ called to set up the meeting. Two days from now. And that nasty bruise on your cheek better be healed by then, my man, because this dude did not sound happy." Victor was now more calm as he spoke.

They entered the private room that Richard had been given and Victor looked around. If he _never_ had to see the inside of a hospital room again, it would be too soon.

"Yeah, he always acts like he hates me, but then he invites me everywhere and he includes me in those awful golf outings with him and his stuck ass friends from the Government. Ugh, I hate having to attend those." Richard sat on the bed, watching Victor place a bag on the chair, wondering what items he must have grabbed for him, from his apartment. He sure hoped there would be a toothbrush.

"Stop whining, it's the job." Victor rolled his eyes.

Richard was not the typical dude who would be doing this job. He was amazing at it, he just did not like sucking up to the Government. On occasion, he would let them know what was on his mind and, most times, it was raw and unfiltered and it ended in some pretty awkward conversations.

"Fine, let him have his fun, let him yell at me again. I really don't care. He can't fire me and there isn't anyone else above me, on the ladder, who would want me gone. So I'm not afraid. And even if I get fired, maybe it's time…"

"No, you have spent your life wanting this and working your ass off for this. I am not letting you lose the job you deserve. Dude, an entire freaking country wants you to have the job you have, you're the only one whose having second thoughts. Now stop acting like a bitch and tell me what food I should order, because there is no way I am letting you eat hospital food." Victor announced, already checking some delivery options on his phone.

"Do you even have to ask? I'd always want a pizza, you know that. And yeah, I might be having doubts about the job. I mean…"

"Dude, is pizza _all_ you _ever_ eat?" Victor sighed when Richard grinned in reply.

"Also, relax. I'm sure she is smart enough to give you a chance to explain. Stop overthinking it. When the time is right, she'd call." Victor added.

"What if she doesn't?" It was rare for Richard to feel so vulnerable and, in moments like these, he would only ever admit it to Victor and nobody else.

"Then she's giving up on the most amazing man she could ever meet." Victor sat down in front of Richard and he tried to calm him down.

"Look, it's been a while since that week. I think you need to prepare yourself for the possibility of her, never reaching out. Maybe it's time you go out, meet a few new candidates…"

"No. I've done that for years and no one has ever been _anything_ like her. I don't want to meet new people. I want _her_ and I'm not changing my mind." Richard cut him off this time. His mind was set on Lauren.

"You can still go out, play the field. You were in the dating pool before Lauren, right? Who's to say you won't find someone better, if you went back swimming, huh? I'm not saying dive in the deep end, but maybe dip a toe…a few casual dates won't hurt."

"Victor, I don't want to dip anything anywhere unless it is with Lauren!" Richard groaned. He was losing his patience. "And God, that came out _so_ wrong, ugh!"

"And how do you think she would feel about you, wanting children, huh?" Victor raised an eyebrow. It was a low blow, but Richard needed to hear it.

"I guess that's one more problem I need to figure out, before I even see her again."

"Really? Because if you, being you and doing what you do, is not a deal breaker for either one of you, then you wanting children would definitely be a deal breaker for _her_." Victor then turned his phone around and showed Richard a photo. "Prosciutto, olives and cheddar?"

"I don't care what's on my damned pizza." Richard grunted, even though the photo he just saw seemed super appetizing.

Pizza was not what he was hungry for.


	68. I Just Can't Keep Up With All The Names

** CHAPTER 68**

_**I JUST CAN'T KEEP UP WITH ALL THE NAMES**_

The BAU case was closed. The child was now back home, with his father, with an early appointment for counseling on the very next day. It would take a while, but he would heal.

The team was now facing a tough decision – staying one more night in that hotel or spending the next few hours at the airport, waiting for an official authorization to fly out early.

Emily knew that both Rossi and Reid had had a rough night because of the bunk beds. She had tried asking the front desk for a new room, but if they wanted a normal room with normal beds, the cost would be much higher and they could simply not afford it. She would have gladly paid the difference, from her own pocket, but the problem was that she had to swipe the work credit card, so they could justify the expenses…and adding a new room would make her go over the budget limit, which would result in a very unpleasant talk with the Superiors.

She also knew that JJ had almost witnessed a boy, about her son's age, get abducted and be nearly drowned by a psychopath. The one thing JJ needed now was the opportunity to tuck her two sons in bed, making sure they were okay.

"Wheels up in thirty." Emily stated as they made their way back to the hotel, after they had finished up at the police station late that evening.

The team was relieved to hear that. They didn't need to waste any more time, now that the case was closed and the UnSub was in custody. They all grabbed their go bags and were ready to be on their way to the airport.

* * *

"Ugh, did they really need to be so quick with the printing?" Angie lamented. She wouldn't have minded another day, or two, in plain clothes.

That morning, right after their PFT class, each Trainee received their bag, with their uniforms neatly folded inside.

"Damn, they even spelled it in caps. Uhhh, I'm loving this!" Angie held one of her shirts up, eyeing the print on the back, saying HUNTER.

"Imagine if you hated your own last name." Bryan laughed. He had already heard some Trainees discuss how unfortunate it was that their names would now be always on display.

"Nah, I love my name. My name is who I am!" Angie smirked and walked to the nearest bathroom to change.

She was feeling a bit tired, so running back to the dorms for a shower and a change of outfit was not an option.

Bryan, however, opted for just that. He was desperate for a shower. Their PFT trainer had been pushing his limits, ever since he learned that Bryan would be trying out for SWAT or the Hostage Rescue Team. As good as he already was, there was a lot he could work on. And he was more than happy to do so.

"Hello class." Agent Seger greeted them all when their first class of the day started.

"Don't get me wrong, I get that anthropology is important, but hey, we're seeing way too much of her lately." Bryan said, completely failing to prove his point.

He believed that learning about human remains and analyzing them was the very last step of what an FBI Agent should be able to do. First, they had to try and make sure people did not end up dead.

"I might be old, but I have amazing hearing." Agent Seger laughed.

Bryan was sitting on the front row, did he really think she would not hear him?

"Actually, while I will continue yapping about bones and stuff, I have also been given the wonderful opportunity to teach you a bit about working abroad. As you all know, I'm part of the IRS, that's the International Response Team. I have worked cases, literally, all around the world. So, I am going to share my experiences with you and teach you all the legal tricks and yeah…fun stuff…" She rolled her eyes at her own statement, wondering if anyone even cared.

Most of them, if not all, had signed up for working in the United States. The IRS was complicated, nobody wanted the burden of having to learn both US and foreign law procedures, when handling a case, especially when each case would be in a different country, meaning they would be continuously learning new things and trying to fit with local laws.

Angie's face lit up. She was more than excited about this new class.

Not too many other Trainees had the same reaction, as hers.

Clara started off with the UK system. It was a complicated one, but at least all the terms were in English, so it would be easier to absorb.

At some point she spoke about the witness protection system and made a rhetorical question about the entity that controlled it.

Angie shot her hand up in the air and since she was sure nobody else had volunteered, she also shot out her answer.

"UK's nationwide witness protection system is managed by the UK Protected Persons Service, abbreviated in UKPPS, responsible for the safety of around 3,000 people. The UKPPS is part of the National Crime Agency. The service is delivered regionally by local police forces." Angie said with a tiny smile.

"That is correct, Andrea." Clara smirked.

"It's Angela!" She corrected her. Something about this woman getting her name wrong rubbed her the wrong way.

Agent Seger then spoke about cases in France, Germany and Brazil. Angie stood still, trying not to be the class nerd who would always want to have a say or ask a question.

At some point, she could not do it anymore.

"Agent Seger, if an American citizen is a victim of a major crime, in America, and then gets into the witness protection system, the American one, but then goes abroad…and then comes back after many years…do they lose their rights? I mean, can they be legally held responsible if they keep hiding behind the mask that the same US government gave them? What's the tea on that kind of stuff?" She asked curiously. In one of the books she was currently reading before bed, there was an unsolved case with those specifics and she needed to know more about it.

Clara sighed before answering. "This is a very touchy subject, Miss Hunter. I am afraid I do not have the right answer for you."

"Thought so." Angie shrugged.

"The shade…" Bryan muttered to himself when he heard how Angie replied to the teacher.

* * *

JJ handed her hand sanitizer to Reid as soon as they got to the airport. Nobody noticed that exchange. Reid smiled, coming to terms with the fact that JJ would always be there for him, anticipating his every weird nerdy need.

"So, what are we going to eat while we wait for our flight to be confirmed?" Reid asked while rubbing his hands together, waiting for the gel to evaporate and to leave nothing but cleanness and the lack of germs. He loved that feeling. The smell of it, not so much.

"Eww, you smell like a pharmacy." Luke commented while walking past Reid. The scent of the hand sanitizer was too strong and annoying for his senses.

"Actually, pharmacies smell like a complex mixture of medicines, while hand sanitizer only has a form of alcohol – say ethyl alcohol for example, as an active ingredient and works as an antiseptic, hence why they call it either hand sanitizer or hand antiseptic. Other ingredients could include water, fragrance, and glycerin, but there is not much more to it. So, if I had to correct your statement…" Reid started off.

"Which, for the record…you do not!" Luke rolled his eyes at his friend, knowing perfectly well that he would, anyway.

"…You would have been more correct if you had said that I smell like a bar." Reid finished his sentence and walked over to Chick-Fill-A.

* * *

"Now, before you guys go get some coffee after this extremely boring class…" Agent Seger said at the end of the class.

Bryan loved her – he liked a woman who could take the piss out of herself and she was doing it so well, in a room full of strangers.

"…I just want to add that Dan has given me permission to create a small group and ensnare them in an…uh, a project." She said mysteriously.

"Oh, I'd love to do it!" Angie raised her hand, naively thinking that it was on voluntary basis.

"Why?" Clara asked.

"Because any person who uses the word 'ensnare' is a person I'd love to work with." Angie smirked. "Yeah and also, I love your class. And yeah, you guys can call me names, I don't care." With her last words, she turned towards the other Trainees, already knowing that they would call her the teacher's pet or something similar.

"Dan allowed me to choose five Trainees." Clara pointed out and Angie frowned, realizing that it did not depend on her whether she would be part of that group or not.

"However, I do not need this many. I need a focused group of maximum three people. Plus, if I had to be honest, I did not see more than three pairs of eyes opened during either of my classes, so…yeah…" Clara ended off, throwing some major shade at the class.

"Give me the popcorn! I am loving this!" Bryan muttered. This class had been nothing but entertaining for him. Plus, he had learned heaps of new things that he surely would never put to practice if he got into SWAT, but it was still nice to enrich his knowledge.

"And yet, I just don't feel comfortable choosing three of you. So, I will only go with two – the ones I believe are going to enjoy this journey and learn from it. I should probably mention that I don't like people badmouthing me behind my back, so I'm sticking with the two people I least expect this from." Clara said nervously.

"Why would people badmouth you?" Angie asked, half-rhetorically.

"Because this project is quite complicated and will drain the energy out of my chosen two. I just don't want to hear it that you're tired, bored, done with it. If I call your name and you get up here on the podium and stand next to me now, then you're stuck with me until the end of this project. Feel free to sit on your ass if you do not want to agree with those terms of mine." She was now talking business. Most of the people didn't even care about adding any more tasks to their already jam-packed Academy schedule anyway.

Angie was not most people.

"I need you…the guy with the red pen, third row, left side…" Clara pointed at someone.

"Think twice before you stand up." She reminded him.

Clara had noticed how interested he was in hearing about the IRS. He had made a couple of comments during class and he had asked her a very valid question, one that she had a lot to share about. There was no doubt she wanted to ask him to join her mini team.

He took a minute to weight his options before he finally stood up and walked over to the podium.

Clara smiled. For a moment there she had been nervous, wondering exactly how humiliated she would be if the guy simply refused her proposal.

"Hey, thank you so much, Agent Seger. I'm Kevin Cooper." The guy introduced himself.

"The second person…" Clara started off, speaking slowly.

Bryan noticed how Angie moved her bag out of the way, making sure she would have plenty of space to get up and run to that podium, if asked to.

"It's someone that I believe would be a great addition to my team…if they tone down the sparks and start listening to orders. Having said that, I'd like to be joined by Amelia…" Clara gave it a moment and when nobody stood up, she pointed at Angie.

"Ugh, it's Angela!" She groaned, but still darted towards the podium.

"So, Kevin and you are now my minions." Clara clapped her hands. "Class dismissed. See you guys…I don't even know when. The schedule keeps being changed, so yeah. Have a good day."

"Congrats!" Bryan mouthed to Angie before he walked out with a bunch of their friends.

"What is this project?" Kevin asked curiously, now that it was just the three of them left there to discuss it.

"Wild guesses?" Clara wanted to hear what people expected out of her.

"Uh, working on some old case, so that you can see what we come up with and then compare it to what actually happened and then judge if we are any good at this?" Kevin suggested.

"Eh…" Clara shook her head and looked at Angie, awaiting her guess.

"Oh, I'm all wilded out." Angie shrugged. Wild card had no wild guesses.

Clara could not stop herself from laughing. She knew that Angie was the Wild Card this year and the more she got to see of her, the more she understood why Dan had chosen her.

"Yeah, it's a case. And yeah, you guys will be working on it." Clara opened a file folder, making them wait in anticipation.

"But you won't be working alone. You'll be working with me. Actually, with the IRS." She specified.

"LIKE, AS REAL AGENTS!?" Angie almost passed out from excitement.

"Like I said, you need to tone it down a notch…" Clara said calmly, after Angie's loud outburst. "And yes, like Agents. But not officially as Agents. You will be…consulting. My team just received a case that involves multiple victims, which means we now need more people on our team to come help us with interviewing everyone and yes, you guys will also be introduced to the most wonderful part of being an Agent – the paperwork. So, now that I know you are prepared physically, I need you to prepare mentally. Also, prepare a go bag and I will see you by the green parking lot entrance tomorrow at 5:30 am."

"Go bag?" Kevin asked, while Angie was already hyperventilating, as she knew what was about to happen.

"Yeah, I'm with the _International_ Response Team." Clara emphasized. "Now, if you're not a fan of Cuba Libre, I would suggest you grab a pint of Tinima Cerveza Clara, not only because that beer is named after me." She chuckled.

"YES!" Angie allowed herself to freak out a little bit, once Clara gave them the news.

"No way! We're going to Cuba?" Kevin asked and both girls gave him a look. He was a bit slow to catch up.

"Oh, I am _so_ going to wear my cute clothes. Yes! Goodbye khaki pants. Hello, Gorgeous Babe!" Angie played with her hair and Clara tried really hard not to laugh at her enthusiasm, even though it made her feel good, seeing the girl so excited and happy about work.

"Okay, one more thing. You both need to look like FBI Agents, so yes – no more Academy uniform, but please don't roll up to the crime scene looking like an 80's Disco Barbie, okay?" Clara looked at Angie as she said her last few words.

"Nah. I was thinking more like 70's hot athletic chic…" Angie smirked, clearly joking.

Clara sighed. She had no idea what she had gotten herself into yet.

"Okay, you can go now." Clara said, looking at Kevin.

"A word?" She then said to Angie.

"Please don't make me regret this." Clara whispered when Kevin left the Auditorium.

"Can't make any promises." Angie smirked.

"Oh and it's Angela!" She added, clearly disapproving of being called two different names during class.

"Sorry, I just can't keep up with all the names…" Clara smirked at her, showing that she still had the upper hand.

Angie respected that. If Clara had the nerve to stand up to Angie, and also the patience to not snap when Angie would stand up to her, then this was a good mix, a duo that had potential.

* * *

Two long days of boredom at the hospital and Richard was finally free to leave. He wasn't in a hurry to go back home, but Victor had insisted that he'd drive him personally.

There was nothing as good as a long hot shower, after a hospital stay. Richard could not count the many times he had longed for a shower, during his career.

After a short power nap, he was ready to go and there was one place he needed to go to.

"May I help you, Sir?" A middle aged woman asked when he walked in a building that he did not seem like he belonged to.

"Yes, I am looking for the person who teaches Pedro Gonzales' class." Richard stated and the woman walked him to a teacher's lounge.

He did not seem like a crazy man who was in a primary school, with the intentions of shooting kids left and right. It was easy for her to feel like she could trust this man.

She mentioned Pedro's name and one of the women in the teacher's lounge replied, saying she was his teacher.

She got introduced to Richard and he wanted to talk to her in private.

"Are you family?" She asked.

She was a well-behaved French woman, in her early 30's, with long brown hair, tied in a messy bun. She was also very good with faces and she did not remember Richard's face ever being around the school, to take Pedro home after class.

"No, you could say I'm a family friend. I am here because I learned that there are extra classes in your school. How does that work?" He asked politely.

"Oh, yes. We have a program – twice a week, two hours per day, always after the normal school hours are done, we have different classes for the kids to choose from." She went through her bag and held out a brochure.

He studied it and saw the different disciplines. There were sports like swimming, football and gymnastics, and then there was mathematics, literature and writing and also languages - English and Spanish. On the bottom of the brochure, there was a number, indicating the price to be paid for enrollment in any of those classes.

"So, kids have to pay if they want to learn?" He raised an eyebrow.

"We already teach those classes in school. However, we have external teachers who come here twice a week, to go in depth and to give a small group of kids focused attention on what they are good at…" She replied.

"…but that's _after_ they pay, right?" Richard finished off her sentence.

"Yes. Like I said, those classes are held by externals, so not our staff and not on our payroll. The school has to cover the costs and since only a few kids attend the classes, it is hard to reach a sum that could be enough for the teacher."

"Do you mind coming to the Principal's office with me for a few minutes?" Richard suggested, but the way he spoke hinted towards a command, rather than a suggestion.

Five minutes later they were sitting in the Principal's office.

"Sir, it has come to my attention that the extra classes come at an extra cost…" Richard trailed off.

The Principal, a man in his 50's, explained the school politics, almost in the same way that Pedro's teacher had, minutes ago.

"How much does it cost, per year?" Richard asked casually.

"Per child?" The Principal made a basic calculation in his mind and gave him a number.

"In total." Richard specified.

"In total…what?"

"How much money do you spend, per year, for all the external teachers, for all classes?" Richard explained his question, with more words now.

"Oh, uh, quite a bit, actually…"

He was not getting an answer that would satisfy him. He needed an exact sum and this man was not saying it. So, instead, Richard took out a check book and wrote something down.

"Would that cover it?" He asked after handing the man a piece of paper.

"Wow, uh…uh yes. It would, actually." The Principal looked with disbelief.

"Good. Now can you send a mass e-mail to all the kids in the school and tell them to choose a subject they like. The school year has only just started, they can surely catch up if they join now." Richard smiled.

There was something so cool and calm about his demeanor. He seemed like a good guy who just casually whipped a check to the school, wanting nothing in return. That kind of looked suspicious.

"Sir, I'm not sure what we can offer you in return for this generosity…" The Principal stuttered, every now and then throwing a look over to the female teacher who was sitting next to Richard and keeping quiet.

"I don't want anything. I just want every child to have the opportunity to learn more, if they want to. Oh and I don't want anyone to know _I'm_ the paycheck guy, is that going to be okay with you?" Richard requested.

That was when the other man looked at the check again and read Richard's full name.

"Oh…" He gasped. "Uh, okay. It is not going to be a problem, Sir." He reassured him, now that he knew who was sitting in front of him.

"Good." Richard smiled politely and stood up. His work there was done.

"Sir, may I ask what triggered this?" The Principal stood up, walking Richard to the door.

"A very smart young boy whom this beautiful woman teaches." He said cheekily, pointing at Pedro's teacher.

"And maybe a bit of overcompensating about certain paths non taken, in my life." Richard added before he greeted the two people next to him and he left the building.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**BONJOUR to my French readers - I LOVE FRANCE!**

**"Spooladio" **You have proof of how "mean" and teasing I can be, in your inbox, right now :)!

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Trust is the foundation of every great relationship. (Read it between the lines :P)

**"rmpcmfan"** Richard definitely has a tender side. For the sake of the story I'll say Emily is 45, so I can squeeze in a few more years of calling her "super hot/sexy" :P Hehehe! Also, Luke and Matt would be like around 32? For the sake of me, drooling over the image of Adam Rodriguez and not feeling guilty about the age difference :P (I'm a weirdo hahaha) Ok now, kick ass Emily has a long way to go, but she's getting there. I love seeing her get stronger. Her savage moments on TV are my favorite scenes to watch. Angie and Bryan DO need to let loose, it can't be ALL work NO play :)! PS: Oh no, Emily won't send out such a random msg. Nope...if she ever reaches out, it would be epic. It would be something way weird and bold, something...unforgettable...an "Emily is out of her right freaking mind!" kind of a moment. Frankly, for both of them, it would be worth the wait :P :P :P

**"Maggie"** Hey, no problem about the questions, I'll reply to everything :)! English is not my native language, so I didn't know the precise word for "fireplace poker", but thanks, next time I need to use it I'll know what it's called yey :)! Now about your questions:

1\. Emily walked in, thinking about saving her colleague and "the boy". And since she has a soft spot for kids, she was stressed out and worried about his well-being and she subconsciously called JJ "the girl". In a way, Emily's protective instincts kicked in and for her both the boy and JJ were someone younger than her and in need of a rescue, so "the girl" rolled off her tongue. I did it intentionally, but none of her colleagues has called her out on it...yet. It also has to do with "the case" from a month ago, the one the readers still can't know details of, but maybe "a girl" was involved there, so Emily transferred that on to JJ. *wink* Btw, good catch!

2\. Oops, I must have meant "glued" as in "restrained, unable to move, stuck to the chair". I didn't mean that actual glue was used. She was physically tied.

3\. ChayChay :)! It was explained a few chapters ago. Briefly, Emily and JJ have a very close relationship and "ChayChay" is the way Emily pronounces her name when they are joking around or in a friendly environment (aka, not during a case, in front of other policemen and witnesses for example). It's basically just Emily dragging out/mispronouncing the letter, as if a child was pronouncing it instead. She had done it in the past and JJ had found it cute, so it had become their own little "term" of endearment, in a joking friendly way.

4\. I intentionally made only Matt and Luke dive into the pool, so that the kid would feel unsafe, with two men. Tara had to stay on the lookout, while they were in the water. And then I needed _Emily_ for the next scene, comforting the boy, so I left Tara to watch from the sidelines. Plus, when it comes to kids, Emily is shown on TV as someone who jumps in and comforts them (in my opinion) and so I made her the first one to try to get close to the boy who was screaming against the two guys.

Wow the chapter was long, but this reply of mine is almost as long lol! Hope this clears up some of your questions :)!

**To everyone: **Have a good weekend, stay safe and be healthy :)!


	69. One, I Love-The Other, I'm In Love With

** CHAPTER 69**

_**ONE OF THEM I LOVE. THE OTHER ONE, I'M IN LOVE WITH**_

"A neutron star is the collapsed core of a giant star which before collapse had a total mass of between 10 and 29 solar masses. Neutron stars are the smallest and densest stars, excluding black holes, hypothetical white holes, quark stars and strange stars." Reid went on and on about something that none of his colleagues had even asked about.

In fact, none of them even knew how that subject even came up in Reid's mind. They were now queuing for food at the airport Chick-Fill-A and everyone was more focused on the menu anyway.

"In fact, and this is a _fun_ fact, guys…" Reid continued pushing it. "A teaspoonful of neutron star would weigh 6 billion tons."

"Uh-huh." JJ was, by now, very much used to giving him the satisfaction of believing that there was at least one person listening.

"Stop it, Reid. I was mentally trying to make the best combo under 15 dollars." Luke found himself having to start over. Math and numbers were really not his thing.

"It's literally right there, in front of your eyes." Reid pointed at the menu where a huge sign explained the new 14,99 dollar promotion.

It was time for Luke to feel dumber than he ever had. But, surely, that was a given, if Reid was anywhere near him. Or anyone.

"Nobody asked you, Dr. Brain." Luke let out a silent chuckle, cutting the queue and now standing right in front of Reid.

"Ouch, hey! Not cool, dude. I was here first!" Reid was not going to give up his place, but also – he was not going to start a verbal or physical fight with Luke over it. Reid had a brain. Luke had muscles. A lot of them. Everywhere. Reid stood no chance in that fight. So he did the smartest thing he could do – he delegated to JJ.

"JJ, he's being mean to me again!" Reid whined.

"Well, that's because you're being annoying, pointing out you're smarter…again!" Luke protested.

"That's because I am! And literally, a five year old would have seen that huge sign." Reid continued pointing at the new promotion.

"Boys, behave! Or I'll have to ground you both!" JJ was way too hungry to even consider getting in the middle of their little fight.

Those two reminded her of her sons, so she treated them as such when they deserved it.

"You think she's fine?" Rossi asked Emily, cutting in front of Tara who was now discussing a double menu option, to split with Matt.

"With that combo she's getting? Yeah, she's fine!" Emily laughed. But that was not what Rossi was asking.

"She's fine." She then gave up and gave him an actual answer.

"She's very good at hiding her true feelings." Rossi countered, having this overwhelming feeling that JJ was just pretending.

Emily shot her a glance. JJ was smiling and it did not seem overly-happy, which pointed out to it being genuine. Whenever JJ expressed too much emotion, it was usually fake and Emily could always tell.

"I'll talk to her." She reassured Rossi and then they both got distracted for a moment, realizing that JJ, Tara and Matt were now ordering first, while Reid and Luke were still going at it.

"By the way, you did an extraordinary good job today." Rossi added, making it sound super casual, so that it wouldn't be weird.

Emily just nodded.

They had been given a case that nobody else wanted. It had gone by for four long weeks, with four victims involved and no questions answered. It wasn't the hardest case to crack, but nobody was willing to dig deeper into it and to find the truth. Yet. Not until the BAU came along. Not until the Unsub dared put his hands on JJ and a child. Emily was not going to have any of it. Something had rubbed her the wrong way and she had come out of her shell with the bat of an eyelash, cracking the case with ease.

Emily Prentiss would be damned if she let another girl suffer, if she let another child die.

"A cracked egg on land might make a big mess, but 18 meters – that's 60 feet, below the surface of the ocean, the pressure on the egg is 2.8 times atmospheric pressure, and it holds it all together like an invisible egg shell." Reid continued to bother Luke, as they had now just ordered and were waiting for their food to be ready.

"Please, make it stop!" Luke said desperately, not really aiming it at anyone specific. _Any_ person who could shut Reid up would be a person Luke was grateful to. For life.

"Awwh, guys. I wish I could give you good news." Garcia's voice sounded.

Emily had dialed her and had dared put her on loudspeaker from the get go.

"_No Go_ on our flight yet?" Emily sighed.

"Nope. Nada. Zilch!" Garcia could be heard, placing a mug on her work desk. It was a sound that neither of her teammates would ever be able to misidentify.

"Have you tried-…" Emily was going to ask if Garcia had called one of the Superiors, but she got cut off immediately.

"Oh, my sweet darling…I don't think you even want to know the things I have tried, in order to get your fine tush back home. And I mean that in plural. I miss all of you." It took Garcia less than twenty seconds to start getting mellow.

"It's only been two days, G." Emily tried not to laugh, because what she was about to add had to sound somewhat authoritarian. "We will discuss your ways of getting things done, when I get…my uh, my tush back home."

She could not help it. She laughed.

"What's a tush?" Reid asked Rossi who was siting between him and Luke now, making sure they wouldn't poke each other with the plastic forks. Just like in kindergarten.

Rossi's shoulders rose up and he was not partaking in that conversation.

"Wait, what's a tush?" Reid started to feel left out. For a smart guy, a guy who found mistakes on Thesaurus, he sure felt dumb to not know the meaning of that word.

"Do I have a tush?" He suggested, since Garcia said she missed all of their said things.

"Yup. A damn fine one at that." JJ was the only one who sacrificed her sanity, in order to reply to him. And, for some reason, she did not hold her words back.

"Hey, Garcia?" Reid now leaned over the table, hearing how Emily was finishing the phone conversation and she was about to cut the call.

"I miss your fine tush, too." He added, with some newly-found confidence.

He still had no idea what a tush was.

Nobody wanted to change that fact.

* * *

Angie and Kevin had resumed their normal class activities for the day, after staying behind with Clara for a few minutes. That evening they had a meeting with the entire IRS, to discuss the case. They had both been instructed to give absolutely _no_ information, to anyone, in the meantime.

That alone, made this day so hard on Angie. She was used to telling Bryan everything and he was a curious guy who kept on asking questions. She managed to dodge them until she was forced to tell him that she was unable to give him any answers. At least, at that point, he finally stopped asking.

Their last class for the day finished at 8 pm and she had to run straight to the main building, if she didn't want to be late.

Yet, she kind of was.

At 8:06 she nearly knocked the door down, sweat dripping from her forehead, as she saw her new temporary team for the first time.

Kevin was already there, since his group in class had been called to do their project presentation first, so he was then allowed to leave ten minutes earlier, so he could be on time for the meeting.

"Hi. I'm so sorry. I am never late, I promise. This won't ever happen again." She said breathlessly. "Well, actually, I can't exactly promise that. It's like…I didn't want to be late now, but here I am and I'm also sorry, but I haven't had a shower since 5:30 this morning and I know how disgusting that is. But it's just life and that's how it is and you just gotta keep rollin' with it."

"_That's_ your choice?" SSA Jack Garrett, The IRS Unit Chief, looked at Clara in disbelief.

"Oh, just wait for it…" Clara shrugged, mumbling her reply to him, as she was not entirely sure what she could expect from the Wild Card.

"Sir, I can be a bit too much to handle, but I promise you one thing. No, two things!" Angie corrected herself quickly. "One - I would work my butt off and I would do anything you guys need. You name it – I'm on it. And two – I would make sure ain't none of ya'll be havin' a miserable time in good ol' Cuba, baby!" She raised her voice enthusiastically with her last statement, but saw only raised eyebrows, staring back at her.

"Ok, fine. I'm Trainee Angela Hunter." She introduced herself briefly and formally, like she had heard so many boring people do. Since those ones did not appreciate her natural enthusiasm, she'd pretend to be boring, like them. Maybe then they'll like her.

"SSA Jack Garrett." He nodded at her politely.

Jack had been through a major trauma just a few years ago. After spending some time in a hospital, he took some time off, in order to heal properly. After that, he was faced with the hard decision – keep his job at the IRS or let go of the team. The latter was not an option. During his healing period, which strangely coincided with Emily Prentiss' healing period in France, when the BAU thought she was dead, Jack's IRS team had been let go of. Matt Simmons had joined the BAU after an in-depth course in criminal profiling. Russ Montgomery, otherwise known as Monty - the IRS' technical analyst, had been assigned to a different team, while SSA Mae Jarvis found herself only working just as a medical examiner, which is what had brought her to the FBI, before she had completed the Academy with Matt Simmons and became a field Agent. It wasn't perfect, but that was how things had gone on for a while.

Clara Seger? Well, she had disappeared for a little bit. Her weird passion for anthropology made it impossible for people to question her alibi – being away from everyone, in order to find herself again. That was the official version, the one she stuck to, each time someone questioned her about those seven months of absence from the Planet Earth.

When Jack had announced his return to the team, things had picked up from where they had left off, but it was weird without Matt on the team. He was the only one who did not return. The IRS never hired a new member. Yes, they had substitutes for a few cases, but nobody really fit in with the team, enough to be invited in, as a regular team member anyway. This was one of the reasons why they needed some help now, with their Cuba case, since there wasn't many of them left. Clara had begged Jack to let her bring Trainees to help out, claiming that it would be a valuable learning experience for them. Jack had been absolutely against that, but he had been forced to cave in at the end. Clara had a way of convincing people.

And yet, seeing this bubbly young ribbon-accessorized thing in front of him at that moment, Jack questioned everything in life, but mostly – Clara's sanity. How could she choose someone who looked like…an airhead. A Barbie doll on steroids. The Energizer Bunny after a few Red Bulls. He had no words to describe Angela.

However, he quite liked Kevin, who was quiet, calm and composed.

Angie shot a glance over to her teacher, Clara, before she looked down at the table, in front of her, pouting. She could tell she was being judged poorly.

"I'm Monty! I saw you at the BAU hearing last week!" Another team member introduced themselves. He had been there to support his long-time friend Penelope Garcia – someone he respected so much.

"Hi." Angie said shortly, not wanting to come off any more weird than she already had.

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Mae Jarvis. Just Mae." The girl net to her extended her hand and she was all smiley and sounded quite bubbly. That finally allowed Angie to feel a bit better.

"Hi." Angie tried to be short with her, too, but failed at it. "Gosh, hot pink lipstick would look so damn fine on you, with that skin tone, your hair, your curs, ugh, girl, you'd be a firecracker!"

"Okay, we are now friends for life!" Mae blushed, her handshake turning into a fist-bump, as if to show the sudden shift in their relationship.

Angie chuckled and so did Clara. She had been sure that those two would click well together.

Jack had been in a really nasty mood lately, for whatever reason. Something had been bothering him, maybe in his personal life, so he had been lashing out on anyone and he did not miss the chance to let Angie know he disliked her instantly. He was a nice guy, generally. He was the kind of man who would go out of his way, to make others feel good. However, seeing him be so pessimistic when he met Angie, made Clara suspicious. She could not remember the last time Jack had been rude, not even to an UnSub.

Clara would now make it her life's mission to figure out what Jack's problem was.

He handed a file folder to everyone, sitting by the table. Angie and Kevin could only open it after they heard a confidentiality speech about whatever it was – Angie had zoned out half-way through that speech. She could grasp that it was confidential and it was way above their clearance level, which was beyond zero at the moment, so she knew that she had to keep her mouth shut. It was all she needed to know.

* * *

"You miss her, don't you?" Victor asked, despite knowing the answer.

He had just walked in Richard's office, catching him eyeing a framed photo of himself. Half of that photo was missing, it seemed like someone was cut out of it. Victor knew exactly who that was, he had taken the photo himself.

"Yeah…" Richard sighed.

"It's for her own safety. You know it." Victor sat down next to Richard, who was on the large sofa, with his feet up on the table.

"I know. I just…"

"You're not good at letting amazing women slip away?" Victor smirked.

"Something like that."

"You did the right thing, letting this one go. She deserves a shot at the happiness she is looking for. And you couldn't give this to her. You're not what she needed." Victor tried to sound neutral, but if he had to be honest – he missed her too.

"I know…" Richard trailed off, placing the photo frame back on the small stand, next to the couch.

His office sometimes doubled as his bedroom. It sure felt that way. He had a night light, a pull up couch that he seldom slept on, when he couldn't be bothered to drive back home, only to drive to work again, a few hours later. He had a mini fridge, granted, full of nothing but alcohol, but still, it had a homey vibe to it. Then there was the desk, the locked up drawers, full of secrets. And the photos…

Richard's eyes laid on another framed photo, one that sat on his desk. It was the only photo in which he had not cut the other person out. It was of him and his late wife. He had figured – why not? He didn't need to protect her identity anymore. It wasn't like anything worse could happen to her now.

"You have Lauren in your life now." Victor pointed out, sensing how Richard was going down Memory Lane, thinking of his wife.

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do. I mean, no, maybe right now you do not, but give her time. You know how she is. Let her work out her own issues, let her come to you on her own terms. And when she does – I pray to God you'll be smart enough to do the right thing. It's not going to be easy, but you need to be the man she needs you to be. You have to put _you_ aside, for her. You know what I'm getting at, don't you?"

"I do…" Richard nodded.

Victor had a valid point, but Richard knew it would be even harder than it sounded. He knew it would be messy and confusing, he knew that if he made even the tiniest mistake, he'd lose her. Forever this time. And that put an enormous amount of pressure on his shoulders.

"I need to get back out there…"

"Oh, no, no. Not happening. You just had a few thousand bones dislocated a few days ago, your face is still purple and you look like a clown with that busted lip. You're not going back out there. I took care of it, I have people lined up for the job." Victor argued. There was no way he'd let Richard put himself in danger again.

"It's my job, Victor. It's what I do. I need to be out there."

"I said: no! Plus, you have the Charity Gala in a few days. You need to look presentable."

"Can't I just write a check?"

"No. People need to see your face around there. Networking, my friend, it's what keeps you relevant." Victor once again had a point.

"You know, it's weird…For a man whose face shall not be seen, I sure do make a lot of public appearances." Richard laughed. He was a man of mystery.

"That's fine, as long as the media doesn't catch up on it. Then you're screwed."

"Ugh, tell me about it. I already have to deal with people's surprised expressions when I say my name at random places, you know, restaurants, hotels. It's kind of fun, I swear those people fear for their lives when they hear it. Which, clearly, is ironic."

"I'd run for my damn life if I didn't know you and you came up to me and introduced yourself." Victor said honestly.

Richard kind of had an air of mystery, of sophistication, of trouble, surrounding him.

"When did my life become the plot of a movie?" Richard was in a good mood now, he was even laughing now, cracking jokes.

"Dude, if they ever made a movie about you…" Victor slicked his hair back.

"I better not be the dumb ass best friend-slash-right hand man. I have to be someone sexy and irresistible, the brains of the operation, the face on the cover, the guy who drives a Bentley…" Victor added dreamily.

"Well…you do own a Bentley." Richard laughed, pointing out the one and only thing that was legit, from what Victor had requested.

"Damn, you are hurting my ego, man!" Victor dramatized, with a hand on his heart.

Richard looked at him and smiled, but Victor could tell he was not there, mentally. He was thinking of something else, of _someone_ else.

"What?" Victor asked curiously.

"You just reminded me of _her_…" Richard pointed at the first photo frame, the one next to the sofa.

"Such a drama queen." Richard added with a smile.

"Ah, _that_ she was. Do you think she kept that characteristic? Or you think she's just someone completely different now?"

"Oh, she definitely kept it. It's who she is. She could never tone it down. She's the life of the party." Richard traced his hand against the photo frame. He would give anything up, if he could see her one more time.

"How the Hell can you love two women, at the same time?" Victor asked.

"It's easy. One of them I love. The other one, I'm in love with." Richard smirked. There was really no better way to explain it.


	70. Emily Prentiss – The Mother

** CHAPTER 70**

_**EMILY PRENTISS - THE MOTHER**_

"Anything?" Emily was now pacing impatiently.

It had been more than two hours since they arrived at the airport. They had food, they explored the shops, they relaxed against some pretty uncomfortable metal chairs and now they were more than ready to board their plane.

"Uhm, yes." Garcia said, on the other side of the line.

This was the third time Emily had called her, pushing for confirmation, which Garcia did not have.

"I like the _yes_. The _uhm_ however, not so much." Emily stated, staring blankly at a window shop.

"Well, the _yes_ is referred to the confirmation I just had two minutes ago, by the higher-ups." Garcia started off with the good news. It was the only way to survive the wrath of Emily Prentiss – good news first and then pray that she wouldn't ask any further.

"…And?" Emily pushed it. Of course she would. When hadn't she?

"Alright. Well, the _uhm_ was referred to the bad weather in your current location. The fog is way too thick, so they have canceled _all_ flights for that night." Garcia said hesitantly.

"No, they haven't!" Emily had to argue. She had been looking at the screens and there wasn't any kind of an announcement.

"Oh…" She then sighed, seeing the screens update with the new information – all flights canceled until the morning.

"I feel your pain, sweet puppies. However, do not worry – Penny G is here and she is already searching for accommodation near the airport…" She spoke while typing. Her two favorite activities, mixed together.

"Oh…" Garcia added after a few seconds.

"_Oh_ is not a friend of mine, just like _uhm_." Emily could not help but feel the overwhelming weight of exhaustion, hitting her hard.

It had been way too long since she had rested, with her eyes closed and nothing but silence surrounding her. This airport, with all of its chatter now that every single flight was canceled and people were furious, was giving her a headache, bigger than the one she had been masking up skillfully ever since she realized JJ had been abducted.

"Well, turns out that all nearby hotels have been booked, you know, for the people who have to be refunded somehow, for missing their ordinary flight." Garcia spoke. "Smart, first the airlines booked the rooms, and _then_ they made the cancellation announcement."

"What about compensating _our_ flight?" Emily groaned, this was turning into a nightmare.

"Yeah, that's why I mentioned _ordinary_ flights." Garcia had learned one thing – be very wise with the words you choose, especially when you hang out around a bunch of profilers. "Your flight practically does not exist yet. Everything got blocked right when I was trying to confirm it with airport control."

"Damn it!" Emily received a look by Rossi, who had overheard her struggles on the phone and was now watching her, studying all the non-verbal things that her body was communicating.

Emily was clutching onto her phone, as if it were a person and she was trying to suffocate them. Her brows were furrowed and her sight darted to the floor each time the other person on the line gave her any kind of news. She had fixed her hair three times in the past minute and she had licked her lips twice. It didn't take a profiler to know that this was not her normal behavior.

"Hey, is everything alright?" Rossi couldn't help but reach her and try to help. It was his nature.

"Yeah. Yeah…" Emily sounded anything but convinced. She then walked a few steps further again, clearly in need of some privacy while on the phone.

"The only thing I can do is book you a hotel back in the city…" Garcia suggested.

"No. That, along with transportation, would end up costing us as if were in a four-star hotel for our entire stay here. And that's way above our budget." Emily closed her eyes for a brief moment, hoping that when she opened them it would be as if nothing had happened, as if this had been just a nasty dream.

"There isn't anything else I could do from here. I tried searching an air-bnb, but you are in the middle of nowhere, with nothing surrounding you, beside the two airport hotels across the street, both of which are fully booked." Garcia sighed, feeling helpless. She hated that feeling.

"I have an idea. Don't worry. I won't let the team sleep on the floor, at a - soon to be, abandoned airport." Emily greeted Garcia and her feet started walking in direction of the exit doors.

Rossi let her out of his sight for a minute and when he checked in on her, she was nowhere to be seen. He trusted her enough not to run around and look for her, but he still had that weird feeling in his stomach, each time he realized Emily was not around.

* * *

"How did it go?" Bryan jumped at Angie, as soon as she opened the door to their room.

"Good." She said secretively.

"Hey, don't forget you and I were once friends, you know, when you turn into that amazing Special Agent quite soon." He teased her.

"You mean, right about the time _you_ turn into one, too?" He just _had_ to be corrected.

There was no way Angie would rise up, without him being by her side. And vice-versa. "Plus, if your definition of _quite soon_ is equal to 17 weeks, then yeah, it would be quite soon, I guess."

"Ugh, I can't believe we have this much left. It already feels like we've been here a lifetime." It felt weird for him to be back in an Academy. When he was training for SWAT, he was basically a child. It wasn't too long ago, but it was long enough for him to have forgotten how to be a student. Although, he was doing quite well in class, without even knowing it.

"I know, right?" Angie popped on the bed, kicking her shoes off her feet. It had been a long day and all she needed was a shower. But first – she needed the strength to get up from the bed.

"So, tell me about this project." Bryan went back to snooping for information, realizing Angie had successfully changed the topic earlier.

"Can't. It's classified." She smirked, feeling so cool and powerful to be able to say those words.

"Shut up! I know where you hide your candy!" He threatened, sitting on the side of her bed.

"Oh, because I care about calories in a package?" She laughed.

Truth was – Angie loved sweet treats. But she would be crazy to let him know that.

"I also know where your bows are." To this, she pulled a straight face.

"Fine. All I can say is that I won't be here for a few days. So, don't worry when you wake up and I'm gone. I won't be pulling an _Amanda_ on you." She had to beg Jack and Clara for permission to let Bryn know that she would be away. He already knew she was crazy, so the last thing she wanted was to give him a heart attack if he thought she was gone missing, or that something bad had happened to her.

"Shit, no way! You're going on a case with the IRS?" He supposed, feeling somewhat jealous.

Angie shrugged, unable to confirm, but also unable to deny his deduction.

"I don't even have many details on what I'll be doing. I just know what this whole thing is about. But if I had to guess – I'd be making coffee runs and cleaning Seger's phone screen with baby wipes." She shrugged.

Four weeks into the Academy, she was still a Freshman and therefore would automatically be considered an idiot. IRS Unit Chief Garrett already hated her guts and despised Clara for choosing her. She was surely going to be everyone's pet, during that trip. But at least she'd be in Cuba, for free. There was no doubt she'd squeeze in a mean Mojito with a cute Cuban guy, at some dim lit bar in the middle of nowhere.

"Will you, finally, get your phone out of hiding and take it with you, so we can text?" Bryan begged, but he already knew that she had no intention of ever touching that phone again.

It had been tucked in the bottom of her drawer, ever since she entered the Academy on day one. She never touched it, never charged it, never cared enough to even look at her missed calls and messages. That had made Bryan suspicious – did she even have anyone to talk to?

"I don't want to. Even if I did – I simply can't. Both Kevin and I were advised, and I really mean _forced_ to, leave our personal belongings and phones back in here. We might have a work phone to use for a few days, but we surely cannot make personal calls. So, I guess you're gonna have to sit back, relax and wait for me to come home. Unless you don't give me enough credit for being good enough to survive?"

"If anyone can survive – no doubt it would be you. I just hope you are safe and that, in some way, you manage to enjoy this…project or whatever it is." He said sweetly.

Angie rubbed her eyes, feeling exhausted. She forced herself to get up and take a shower, after which she crashed and fell asleep immediately.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Miss. We don't have any available rooms for the night." A hotel receptionist informed Emily as soon as she walked in the lobby.

"FBI." She announced, holding her badge up so he can see it clearly.

"Did…did something happen?" The guy, who hadn't even finished his first week on the job, started stuttering.

"Yes. We just cracked a case in your city. The guy who killed four innocent girls is now in custody, while my team and I are stuck at the freezing airport, unable to go home. How is that fair?" She tried to play her cards right. This young boy clearly had no idea what he was doing behind the desk, so if she made him feel bad for the team, she could maybe score a room.

"But we really don't have-…" The boy trailed off. He was scared of her.

"What is the problem?" An elder man came up from behind them, having overheard what sounded like a quarrel.

"We need a place for the night." Emily stated calmly now, since this man was older than her, so she automatically treated him with more respect.

"We are fully booked." He announced.

She played with her FBI badge one more time, but his reply did not change.

"Wait…" He called out after her, when she was on her way to go try her luck in the other hotel.

"Are you with this blonde woman, the one who was on TV, talking about the killer?" The guy, who turned out to be the Hotel Manager, asked her.

He had been forced to stay at Reception, as there were many demanding people walking in, complaining about flight cancellations and the lack of rooms. He was simply there to deflect the tension.

"Yes, I am her boss. And that same girl got kidnapped and tried desperately to save a little boy's life just hours ago. She is now curled into a ball, sitting on the floor, at the airport, near the bins, writing her after case report, because that's the only corner we could find that wasn't full of people yelling about their flight being cancelled." Emily stated firmly.

"I'm sorry. Is the boy okay?" The guy shivered at the thought that a child would be harmed.

"Yes. Agent Jareau, the woman you saw on TV, was able to communicate to us his location and my team managed to save him. A minute later, we would have found him dead." Emily knew how to make a man feel for her, pity her, so that she could get whatever she wanted out of him.

"Is the Agent okay?" The man asked. "When I saw her on TV, she reminded me a lot of my daughter who is now living in Canada. I barely get to see her anymore. I don't know, she just put a smile on my face."

"She's a tough girl, she's fine and unharmed. She's just cold and pissed off right now. And all she wants to do is go home and hug her two little boys." One more time, Emily jumped at the chance to point out JJ's discomfort.

"I'll tell you what – yes, we are fully booked. But we have a business lounge on the third floor. It's not much, but it's all I could offer. It's warm and there are plenty of couches with cushions. Oh and it can be locked, so it should give you some privacy. I'll ask the nighttime maid to give you some blankets and I'll put your names on the breakfast list. It's not much, just a cup of coffee and some small sweets, but that's all we can offer from the main menu. Everything else is on request and requires an extra fee." He finally caved in.

"Alright, this is more than what I expected anyway. Forward the receipt to me here and it will get covered by our administration within 48 hours." Emily gave him her business card, but he denied taking it.

"It's on the house." The man smiled.

"Oh…" Emily half-smiled as well. Apparently she got game. "Well, thank you then. I will let my team know."

She walked away, calling Rossi and giving him the news. Ten minutes later, everyone was by her side and they got escorted to the business lounge.

"Holy shit!" Tara exclaimed as they walked in.

The place was huge. There was plenty of space to get comfortable and they also had a TV and some refreshments. Best of al – it was well within their new budget, being free.

"Good one, Prentiss!" Matt tapped Emily's shoulder, walking by her and choosing a sofa for himself.

As everyone got comfortable and threw a blanket over themselves, Emily just looked around. Rossi was next to Reid, who was next to JJ. Tara, Matt and Luke were in the opposite corner of the room, stubbornly thinking they were going to watch TV. The whole team looked a bit more alive than when they were at the airport.

It was quiet. Emily could hear JJ take a sharp breath. Seconds later, Reid chuckled, for whatever reason. Rossi let out a sigh of relief and was ready to crash. Tara was laughing about something that Matt was whispering while Luke was imitating Matt's hand gestures, standing behind him.

She finally allowed herself to smile. A genuine smile, one of those that she only reserved for special occasions. Watching her team interact with one another was the biggest satisfaction she could get in life. Well, other than another type of satisfaction, which, she wasn't sure she wanted anymore. Not after Richard.

The mere thought of him made her feel a bit more tense, but shooting a glance over to JJ and finding her curled on the sofa, contently holding onto her blanket, made Emily smile again. She was safe. She was alive. She did not show any visible signs of stress after being kidnapped. It was all good. JJ was good. Emily was good, too.

JJ had once told Emily, as they were on a plane, after a mission that had involved a young girl, that she could see Emily as a mother. It had been a touchy subject for Emily since she was fifteen, but she hadn't minded hearing those words from JJ.

Now, looking at the six of them, she couldn't help but feel like she was lucky enough to be, in a way, a mother of six perfectly beautiful, mischievous kids. Wasn't motherhood all about loving someone unconditionally, putting their own needs before yours, making sure they were alright, at all costs and at any given time? Well, then Emily Prentiss was a mother.

She put her phone in charge before she grabbed the only couch left. Surprisingly, it was one of the big ones, a comfortable one, with a lot of pillows. Surely her team somehow made sure to leave the good spot for the Chief. She smirked, realizing that sometimes it was okay to feel pampered, it felt good to be looked after. Almost as if she was their child. She was not sure how it worked, but their roles often got blurry and at times there was no clear line between business and friendship with them. She did not mind it.

For a few minutes, she worked on some paper files that she had been carrying around. She had to file them when they got back to Quantico, so why not start filling them in right away? Ten minutes later, her team expressed their wish to turn the lights off and go to sleep. She was in the middle of writing her report and her mind was all in it, but she could not deny them. She never could.

"Goodnight." She whispered in the dark, only receiving two replies back. The other four Agents were already asleep.

It filled her heart with joy, thinking that she was, once again, able to provide for the team. Although, this time she wasn't sure if this was Kick-ass Emily Prentiss' merit…or was it maybe all because of Emily Prentiss – the mother?

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan"** You just wait for it and hope Jack (or someone else) actually believes enough in her, to give her a chance ;) Angie sure comes off as an airhead, but like you said - it might be part of a character. Ooh, Richard would be devastated if he lost Emily (Well, "Lauren"). He might take it worse than Emily herself, if things went bad...

**"Natasha36"** Will keep you guys guessing through the entire story (for different things, I don't mean just this storyline), I promise hehehe! Obviously, everything WILL be explained, at some point! I can only say Richard loves the person that was cut out of the photo. Who it is and what their connection might be, is up to the readers' imagination...for now :P Thanks, I also enjoy Reid when he annoys the crap out of people (mostly Luke) with theories.

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Hehe, finally there is something Reid does not know! Oh Richard has more colors than Garcia! Angie is about to experience NOTHING like what she had imagined, lol!

**"Bohogal1998"** Thanks, the IRT will make appearances in my story, since they all appeared on "Criminal Minds" and Emily is really close to Clara.


	71. Just Wait For It

** CHAPTER 71**

_**JUST WAIT FOR IT**_

Angie needed no alarm. She opened her eyes wide, at 4:30 am the next morning. Excitement took over her as she realized she was about to do her two favorite things – traveling and pretending to be an actual FBI Agent. If she got lucky, SSA Garrett would even let her briefly check out the crime scene photos in between coffee runs and fluffing up the pillows for his team. That's basically what she expected to be in charge of, but it was okay. Every start was rocky and slow, so she would keep quiet and just bear with it.

A few minutes after five am she was at the blue parking lot, as instructed. It was a bit chilly, so she closed her jacket and threw a scarf around her neck. Suddenly, there was this feeling of warmth, one that she felt mostly on the inside.

"Cute scarf." Clara said, startling Angie as she just appeared out of nowhere.

"Thanks." Angie smiled, caressing the white fluffy material with a few fingers.

This was the first time she had put it on since she had received that anonymous pink glittery care package. This was somewhat symbolic – she had put it on for her first case, to keep her warm and to protect her from danger.

"Don't worry about Jack. He could be a bit too much sometimes, but deep down inside he's a good guy." Clara pointed out, feeling how tense Angie was, to be waiting for his arrival.

"That must come from some past trauma. Either personal one – say, he went through something and he thought he was losing everything, or maybe he lost someone and now he is very protective over the people he has and he doubts anyone who even tries to get close to his team. Or he's just a dick, because he didn't really seem to have a problem with Kevin, but just with me, so…" Angie shrugged, psycho-analyzing a man she had only met for a few minutes, a man who was now her Unit Chief, for the next few days.

"_Shit, she's good…_" Clara muttered to herself.

"Look, there's something I want to say to you…" Clara trailed off and Angie put her hand up in the air, in a sign that she did not want to hear it.

"I've been thinking about it a lot…" Clara continued.

"Please…" A silent plea escaped Angie's lips. "No." She added.

Clara looked up at the young girl. She was so beautiful. The tiny amount of make-up that she had managed to apply to her face at five in the morning accentuated all of her best features – blush on the cheeks, lip-gloss on the lips and mascara for those beautiful green eyes. There was a spark in those eyes, like this girl expected everything and nothing out of this case. Like she was ready to do whatever. Like she could not wait to hit the ground running and be part of the team.

It all made Clara smile. She had once been the same. Innocent. Full of hope. Driven. That was before life and the job had destroyed her. She now often found herself staring at a blank space, thinking about absolutely nothing. Clara herself had almost lost someone she cared about very deeply, just a few years ago. And then Jack had been hurt and the team had split up for over half a year.

Looking into Angie's eyes, she hoped and prayed that this young girl would not have the same fate that she did.

"Hey guys!" Mae greeted, parking nearby and rolling down the window.

Angie was grateful that someone had interrupted that uncomfortable silence that had been surrounding the two of them for the past two minutes, which felt like a lifetime.

"Oh, look at you and that pink!" Angie smiled. The previous day she had suggested that Mae would look great with pink lipstick and she was now rocking the color like it was her second skin.

"What can I say? It's nice to have another girl on the team!" Mae laughed, shooting a glance at Clara, who was wearing pants and no make-up.

"Hey, comfort is important." Clara excused her boy-ish looks. She just could not bring herself to wake up early, so she could waste time on make-up. Sometimes she would apply it at work and she enjoyed make-up a lot, but she just did not get out of her way to do it in the early morning. Except for when she had classes at the Academy, oh then she put some extra effort on her looks.

"I have so many questions for you, mostly about putrefaction!" Angie said to Mae, with a huge smile on her face, as if she were talking about candy.

"Oh, you're definitely _not_ riding with me." Clara cringed.

She was not new to talking about dead bodies, but it usually happened _after_ coffee. She was not having a nosy young chick riding on the passenger's seat, asking her stuff like that, before she had her second good breakfast of the day.

"Hop in." Mae waved at her, happy to have found someone who was not freaked out by what she did for a living.

Kevin then arrived and he got in Clara's car. Garrett was waiting for them at the airport and Monty was staying behind, as usual.

When they arrived at the airport, Angie loved not having to go through the usual security checks. They had a gate reserved for private government flights, plus a waiting lounge only for them.

"Score!" Angie got glued to the refreshments stand, grabbing a few cookies and drinking at least three full glasses of juice. Kevin was right there by her side.

"Jesus, don't they feed them at the Academy?" Garrett rolled his eyes at the scene.

"Actually, no. Budget cuts hit them hard and they're all paying for their own food now." Clara pointed out and Mae frowned, remembering her time at the Academy, a few years back. She had been given free food, free accommodation, free everything. And while she had whined occasionally about some stupid thing, she now realized how incredibly lucky she had been and how good she had it.

"She looks almost too young to be here…" Mae pointed out, studying the way Angie moved. There was something almost child-like about her bubbly character. At least that was what she let people see about her.

"She is." Clara sighed, excusing herself as she walked over to the rest rooms.

She pressed one of her speed dials and got sent to voicemail. With a loud groan, she decided to go ahead and record a message anyway, even though she would have preferred to talk to the other person in real time.

_"Hey, just letting you know that the Angela girl is with my team, on a case for the next few days. Don't worry, we'll take care of her. Just, don't freak out, okay? And don't kill me when I'm back. And yes, it was my idea and I stand by my decision to put her on the case. Okay. Bye."_

Clara put the phone back in her pocket and walked out of the bathroom, joining the team again.

Ten minutes later they were being escorted outside.

"Is _that_ the plane!?" Angie's jaw dropped.

"That's like…a space ship!" In front of her there was a huge aircraft, with a door that could load even a vehicle, at the back. This was insane.

"Might wanna check the drawers." Clara said to Angie once they were on board.

Angie opened one of the drawers in the common area and it was full of treats – sweets, candy and different types of potato chips.

"What's that?" She then pointed at a more secluded area.

"That's my work station." Mae replied shyly.

Nobody usually showed interest in the little room with an operating table, where bodies were being studied or simply transported back to US soil.

"Cool. Can I see it?" Angie said right away.

"Mmh, sure." Mae shrugged.

She had spent thirty minutes, explaining her job to Angie while driving to the airport. It was by now obvious that Angie was curious about it.

"Eww, could you tone down the necro-mania?" Kevin cringed. He wasn't a fan of Mae's job.

"I believe you mean necrophilia. May your ignorance be excused." Angie shook her head. "And the term has a sexual connotation to it, which makes it invalid in my case. So, beat it." She put her hand up in the air and Kevin just walked away, as if she had put a magic spell on him.

"Well, she's tough." Garrett murmured to himself when he saw how Angie handled the situation and did not back down when Kevin was being rude.

"Just wait for it." Clara startled him, now standing right behind his seat and smirking victoriously.

"You keep saying that, you know?" Garrett had already heard her say those words three times now. Wait for what? What did she mean?

"You'll know soon. And when you do – please picture me smirking in your face, with the words _'I told you so'_ escaping my lips." She teased him.

They had a very close relationship and they respected each other a lot. It was somewhat like Rossi and Prentiss' relationship, but roles reversed when it came to who was the Unit Chief.

Mae took Angie to the room and showed her a few of the instruments she used the most. Angie kept asking about everything. She did have more than basic knowledge about these things, but she was curious to know more.

Kevin hung out by himself while Garrett and Clara started working on the case files. At some point, Garrett put a few of the papers away and then sprawled the rest of them on the big table in the common space and asked for everyone to join him.

He had received new information about the victims and he now shared it with the rest of the team, along with the initial strategy he had come up with, for how they would approach this case.

Surprisingly, Angie and Kevin were allowed to hear all the details for the case, nothing was classified, yet.

They were given strict orders on what they must never do and things they must never say, to anyone, during this case.

"Ok, but what _will_ we do and what _can_ we say?" Angie asked once Jack was done talking.

"I'll let Agent Seger clarify that to you, once we set up at the local Police Station. Until then, sit tight and enjoy the flight. Get some rest, too. You will be running on coffee and energy drinks for the next few days." He replied to her, more than vaguely.

She hated it. Angie did not do _'wait'_ very well. Or at all.

"Why are you putting that responsibility in _my_ hands?" Clara whined once they were alone, a few minutes later.

"Because it was _your_ brilliant idea to bring Barbie and Kevin along for the ride, so, subsequently, they are now _your_ responsibility. Whatever you decide, the outcome is purely on you." Jack replied to her with attitude and he simply walked away.

Clara sighed. He had never treated her like that. What changed?

"Ha, he's not really a fan of yours." Angie pointed out, bombarding Clara with her unwanted presence, the second she saw her sitting on her own.

"No, sweetheart, here's where you're wrong." Clara smirked. Proving Angela wrong would be a pleasure. "He's not really a fan of _yours_."

"Well, I'm fine with that." Angie smiled.

"You can't be everyone's favorite, you know." Clara continued trying to be hostile.

She was failing at it, so badly. First off, she had to take that damn cute smile off her face, if she wanted to be taken seriously, especially by that stubborn young one, standing right in front of her.

"As long as I'm _your_ favorite…" Angie's smile deepened until her dimples started forming. "…sweetheart, I'll be fine." She ended off, calling her the same name that she had been called, seconds ago.

Clara blushed. For some reason, she felt an overwhelming feeling of…just about everything, at that moment.

"So, how does Clara Seger like her coffee?" Angie figured if she would be the intern figure for the next few days, she better at least try to be good at it.

"Hot." Clara replied. "And it's _Agent_ Seger."

"Ooh, I'm sorry." Angie faked an overdramatic response. She could not care less about titles. She treated everyone the same.

* * *

_"Wake your sexy ass up, lazy man! Hope you have a sweet day! And DO NOT HIT SNOOZE…do not hit snooze…do not hit snooze…"_

Angie's voice sounded from Bryan's phone.

He had put his alarm for 5:40 that day, but Angie had corrected it to 5:20 and had customized his good morning message.

He hit snooze.

Five minutes later, the same audio recording sounded one more time. The more he heard her annoying voice, telling him not to hit snooze, the more he wanted to do nothing but that, just one more time. However, he decided to do the right thing and to get up and try to act alive.

"Have a sweet day…" He murmured, imitating her voice. "Sweet, my ass. Ain't nothing sweet 'bout today. Ugh. My body is still sore from all the training yesterday. Sweet…blah!" He continued his miserable negative speech until the moment he reached his study table.

"Gaaah." He hated it, but he squealed. Like a girl. He did.

"Sweet day? I get it now." The fact that Angie had put a different chocolate bar on his table, spread out and promptly signed with a sticky note, so that he would not take more than one on each day, put a smile on his face.

"Seven candy bars. One week? How long does she think she can leave me alone for? I did not sign up for this!" He protested quietly, not even realizing how much he already missed her annoying presence.

"Booooyaaaah, double pack KitKat bars. Yes, oh yeah!" A happy dance accompanied his statement.

On the first day, she had figured he'd need double the strength, to survive without her remarks. Hence, she had left him twice the chocolate, just to keep him happy. And alive.

A few hours later, he found himself standing up from his seat in the Auditorium, and speaking out loud, without even looking back.

"Yo, Angie, we have just about enough time to hit that healthy food place and eat anything with avocado before the next training starts. God knows we need extra energy before DeMo's training."

When he heard nothing but silence in response, he finally turned around. It was time to feel like a fool.

He had gotten so used to having her by his side, that he had forgotten completely that she was no longer around.

"Do I look like her?" One of Bryan's new friends who was just walking by, mocked the way Angie walked, attracting a few pairs of eyes on him.

"Add a few socks under the shirt!" Someone else called out.

"And on your flat ass, too." Another guy said.

"I can't figure out if you're just being ridiculous or you're actually _that_ ignorant!" Bryan rolled his eyes.

"I'm duuumb." The first guy replied, laughing.

"No, you're actually quite smart to only dare disrespect Angie when she's not around to smash your face against a wall." Bryan raised an eyebrow. He had already won that dispute.

He then proceeded to go grab lunch with both of these guys, because that was how guy quarrels worked, unlike girls who wouldn't have spoken to each other for days after that.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Aww, smile, really? :) I try to incorporate the whole team as much as I can. Sometimes a storyline/event will focus on one or a few of them, since they are so many. But I also enjoy the WHOLE team moments (team chat messages will make appearances and they are wild, LOL). I have a feeling outside of work (what we did not see much on TV) those are a bunch of silly goofs, trying to wind down after a case. As for pairings, I have never shipped anyone within the current 8-people BAU team. I ship Emily and Mendoza, but he's not BAU. Those 8 are a family, it would just be weird, between either two of them lol!


	72. Until The Day I Die, Again

** CHAPTER 72**

_**UNTIL THE DAY I DIE...AGAIN**_

In typical Emily fashion, she was the last one to close her eyes at night and the first one to open them in the morning. Reid followed, a few minutes later, immediately asking her if she wanted to play chess. The answer was 'no', because any question would get the same answer before Emily Prentiss would get her double black coffee in the morning. He should have known better.

"Oh, this is Garcia." Emily whispered, not wanting to wake everyone up just yet.

She walked out to the hallway which was significantly less warm than the lounge where they had crashed at. Reid studied her behavior, watching her through the glass door. At some point she walked off to somewhere, but he had already grasped enough of the conversation.

When Emily came back to the lounge ten minutes later, she found everyone wide awake, with their go bags in their hands and a huge smile on their faces.

"Off we go." Matt said cheerfully.

"Guys, how did you-…" Emily stopped herself from asking a foolish question.

Of course Reid would have read her lips. He was really good at that.

"He screamed in my ear…" Luke cringed, giving his ear a light massage.

Reid smirked. He had woken everyone up gently, but when Luke resisted it, he had to proceed differently. Plus, he still had it out for Luke from the day before.

"I need a shower." JJ said, sounding almost in pain.

She had some minor bruising from the rope that secured her to the chair when she was kidnapped, and one of her feet had a scratch with some dried blood on it. She had tried to wash it off at the hotel bathroom, but she had scratched it against a rusty metal thing and it needed to be cleaned properly before it could heal. Of course, she never told anyone about that. She let her trousers cover it up and she put on a brave smile for the team.

"I need coffee." Rossi groaned, holding his head with both hands, trying to tame down the headache that had been bothering him since last night.

"I just came back from the restaurant. They were kind enough to offer to bring us breakfast up here, so we can relax before the flight." Emily smiled innocently.

"Offer?" Luke whispered to Matt, his partner in crime.

"Yeah, I bet she flashed the badge again." Matt replied with a smirk.

The door opened and three waiters pushed food carts in the lounge, setting up by the big table in the middle of it.

The team thanked them politely and quickly initiated the long and cheerful process of destroying liters of hot coffee and dozens of freshly baked goods.

"Wheels up in thirty." Emily kept looking at her watch and was more than glad to finally be able to do the countdown to when their flight would depart.

Garcia had moved mountains, to get them the permission to leave from that airport. The weather was still bad and there was a fog, a little less thick than the one from last night, but still significant enough to screw up tons of flights that morning. Yet, she had found a loophole and was able to give them an 'ok' to depart.

The team grabbed their bags and walked out of the hotel, across the street and into the airport.

"You didn't have to…" Rossi made sure he was walking close enough to Emily, so that she would be the only one to hear that.

She nodded and that simple gesture was answer enough to him.

He knew that she had gone to the restaurant and arranged the room service. Reid's favorite donuts did not just end up on the menu of a low-cost airport hotel, in the middle of nowhere. JJ's favorite hot chocolate did not just blend itself perfectly, into the exact density that she enjoyed it at. And all of it was most definitely not complementary.

The hotel manager had promised coffee and basic small cookies for breakfast and Emily had been warned that everything else would come at a cost. She had been more than happy to place an order and to swipe her personal credit card that morning. By the looks of it, her team was happy, fed, well rested and ready to go home with a smile. This was the kind of joy that Emily wanted money to buy her. This was more than money well spent.

Her mouth remained shut as she walked next to a man she respected more than anything in life. But her eyes screamed at him, letting him know that there was literally not a single thing in the world she would not do or sacrifice, so that her team would be okay.

He nodded back and his head rose up, his eyes looking at the sky for a split second. She was sure he was being Italian and conversing with Jesus at that moment.

_"__Grazie, Jesu, per aver arricchito la mia vita con questa donna incredibile."_ Rossi said with his heart, while his lips just formed a smile and did not utter a word out loud.

It was not the first time he had thanked Jesus for enriching his life with this incredible woman, named Emily Prentiss. It would most definitely not be the last time, either.

* * *

The IRS team landed in Cuba after a long flight, during half of which both Angie and Kevin had been knocked out on a sofa, re-gaining some energy. Jack had noticed how they were borderline exhausted, coming straight from the Academy. They had no idea the long hours they were signing up for, if they managed to get that FBI badge at the end of their training process.

Local police officers escorted them to the station where they were given a room, an old-school style blackboard with two pieces of chalk and a handwritten note with the Wi-Fi password. That was all. No computer, no fancy stuff.

Mae shared a dozen of plain white papers with her colleagues and Garrett provided the pens, letting everyone know that if anything happened to his expensive pen collection, they would be suffering the consequences. Clara knew better than to travel to a foreign destination without her own laptop and pre-paid internet connection plan. Question was – would that plan cover the grounds of good old Cuba?

Kevin had nothing, but a spare pair of jeans. Angie had a scarf. That was pretty much all the preparation they had for Cuba. That, and beachwear, of course.

"Okay, it's not much, but we have to work with what we've got." SSA Jack Garrett took the initiative and started filling the blackboard with information.

An hour later, they were already briefed by the local police and Jack decided to waste no more time.

"Mae, I need you in the morgue, Clara – interviews, please. We need to know everything we can, about the victims, so we can figure out why the Hell they got themselves into this situation." Jack said, completely disregarding Angie and Kevin. They were now Clara's puppets and he wasn't going to play with them.

Clara started walking to the exit and she stopped by the door, shooting a questioning glance at the Trainees.

"What are you waiting for? A written invite?" She smirked, knowing that none of them expected what she was about to hit them with.

"Uh, three coffees on the way, Miss Seger!" Kevin said, sounding like a servant, his words making Clara laugh out loud.

"What, you think you're here as interns at a law firm or something?" She said in between giggles. "Straighten your shirt, put your sunglasses on and get your ass ready to do some talking." She added. "And it's _Agent_ Seger!" She could not help but correct him.

"But Angie said we'd be…" Kevin's glance jumped from Clara, to Angie. "Coffee runs and something about fluffing pillows?"

"You clearly missed out the memo that I'm bad news." Angie walked past him, patting his shoulder, on her way to get to where Clara was standing.

"Ugh, you're the Devil!" Kevin rolled his eyes and searched for his pair of sunglasses. It was boiling hot outside, he kind of wished he could take his smart jacket off, but that would make him look less FBI and more like a tourist.

"Yup, people keep saying that." Angie replied cheerfully.

"Hah!" Clara scoffed. "I wonder why."

Angie killed her with her eyes before they both walked out, leaving Kevin behind. He'd catch up. Eventually.

* * *

"Puppies!" Garcia welcomed the team with a loud cry of happiness and a banner, saying _'Welcome back, Team!'._ And a half-empty pack of jumbo marshmallows.

"Awwh, Garcia! You didn't have to come all the way to the airport." JJ nearly pushed everyone out of her way, wanting the first hug from Garcia, all to herself.

"Yes, I did! I've been here for two hours now. My feet are numb, I guess I should have toned down the heels situation, but I wanted to look pretty, for my pretties." Her enthusiasm was JJ's favorite thing.

"Plus, I wanted to make sure you were as okay as you've been telling them you are. And you're not. You're slimmer and you need to rest!" She added, taking in JJ's slim shape.

"Garcia, relax. I was kidnapped for not more than two hours, during which time I was peacefully sitting on a chair and nothing happened to me. It's no big deal, really. I didn't lose weight in the process." JJ laughed and something about the way she said that to Garcia made Emily, finally, doubt how okay JJ really was.

JJ could fool the team whenever she wanted, but she had never been able to tell a lie with a straight face on, to Emily.

"I will still spoil you rotten. My beautiful blonde diva!" Garcia said while making sure not a single spot of JJ was left uncovered. She wrapped her hands around JJ's slim body and held her tight before she did the same for everyone else.

"Mommy!" Henry's voice filled the air and JJ could hear his tiny footsteps before she could even turn around to see him.

Behind Henry there was Will, holding Michael, or Mickey, as everyone called him. The three of them were returning from a trip to the small airport shop, to get some candy while they were waiting.

"My babies!" JJ looked a bit more alive now. A bit happier to be alive, really.

While she was on her knees, hugging her children, Rossi's eyes were glued to Emily, who, unknowingly, let herself enjoy the scene.

Mickey was now covering JJ's face with soggy kisses and she wouldn't have it any other way, while Henry held onto her hand so tight that she could swear it would swell more than what it would from the bounds the Unsub had used on her. It would be a bruise she'd wear with pride, though.

Emily smiled, her face tilted a bit down, her eyes never leaving Henry and Mickey's tiny frames. Every now and then she'd focus on JJ, reading happiness in her eyes, but for the most part – Emily was focused on the kids.

Rossi frowned, imagining all the possible things that must be going through Emily's mind at that very moment. It only lasted about a minute, but it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime she never had.

He couldn't help his instincts, so he walked to Emily and put his hand on her shoulder. She did not even notice that, but she felt a wave of comfort surrounding her at that moment. There were times in life when he was the only person she needed by her side. Times when not even JJ or Morgan could reach her.

"Thank you for bringing mommy back home and alive, once again." Henry broke Emily out of her zone.

She looked down, seeing him tug on her blazer so that she would finally snap out of it and see that he was there.

"Yeah, we tried the whole _'let's not burden the kids with what mommy actually does for a living'_ thing. It didn't work. He's old enough and smart enough to know what's going on is actually dangerous." JJ said apologetically when she felt Emily shoot her a questioning look.

"It's what I do best." Emily got on her knees, leveling up with the child and giving JJ a small wink with her right eye.

"Will you always do that?" He knew she would. He was just in the phase where he needed constant reassurance, for everything.

"Until the day I die…" Emily said to him. "…Again. Like, for real this time…" She added, looking sideways to where the grownups were standing, making everyone laugh at the connotation of her words.

"Thank you, Emmey." He grabbed on her collar, abruptly making her tilt forward so he could suffocate her with hugs and kisses.

Emily usually disliked this kind of forceful mannerism, in men especially. But coming from Henry, she could not help but find it to be brisk. Refreshing. Really, really cute. Plus, the way he pronounced her name was the sweetest thing in the world.

"When can I stay with you again?" He whispered to her when he was sure nobody was listening.

"Hmm, let's see what I can do about it." Emily smirked, fully aware that JJ's hearing was amazing on the field, but even better when it came to her children. JJ was standing right behind Henry now, shaking her head in disbelief, at his request.

"Okay, but not this Friday night, please. I have a friend over for dinner." Henry stated shyly.

"Oh?" JJ raised an eyebrow. She was most definitely not aware of that.

"Katie." Will whispered to her and JJ's heart dropped. She wasn't sure if it was pride…or concern, but Henry had invited a girl over for dinner. That was the cutest thing.

"If she's vegan, I'm going to flip!" JJ replied to Will, making him choke on that last sip of his coffee.

JJ loved meat. Having grown up in a small town, meat was religion to her. She lived for a good barbeque. Flash-forward, she refused to see herself as the mother-in-law of a monster who did not appreciate meat, milk and cheese.

"You can let go now." Henry tried to get away from Emily's arms, which were still wrapped around him.

"People are staring." He winced.

Henry hated showing affection. To anyone. Ever. The only people he hugged were Reid, whom he was borderline obsessed with, Garcia, who was the picture perfect colorful dream friend for every child, and Emily, whom he was sure he'd grow up and marry one day.

His affection to Emily had started when he was old enough to put names to the faces who were hovering above him, in the kiddy crib. He knew the one with dark hair was Emily and he knew she was his favorite. He had tried to bite her nose off numerous times, which, when he was one and a half, had been his way of showing affection.

When he was a little over two, he had come back from kindergarten one day, proudly holding a piece of paper in his hands. On it, there was a scribble of something horrendously irregular, resembling a bird, but with thicker legs and fire coming from his mouth. When his mother had asked him if that were a dragon, he had gotten up from his seat and walked in zig-zag to a framed photo of the BAU team, pointing at Emily, who was in the middle. He had seen her as a strong animal, a dragon, who would throw fire at her enemies until she would defy them all. That drawing was still, currently, on display on Emily's fridge door.

At three years old Henry had asked if he could dye his hair black, so he would look like he was Emily's child. JJ had denied him and Will was still holding that over her. JJ had also shed a few tears over the fact that her own child was fantasizing about being someone else's kid. The pediatrician had reassured her, about fifty times, that it was normal for kids his age to have weird ideas about life, their parents and how things could have been.

At four and a half years old, Henry had gone through his phase of dressing and acting like Reid. He had went to school with a messenger bag and he had even asked his daddy to teach him how to play chess, in hopes of being an equal opponent to his genius muse, one day. He had, however, not forgotten about Emily. One cold night, he had been dropped off to Emily's place when his parents had gone on a dinner date for their anniversary. That was the night Henry had learned a few valuable lessons in life.

One – if you don't wash your hands, you cannot sit at the dinner table.

Two – hopping on the bed or the couch with your shoes on was _not_ an option.

Three – he had added Emily to his very short list of people who were allowed to cuddle him and show him affection. She was brilliant at it, plus, she had made him hot chocolate with mini marshmallows and she had allowed him to watch cartoons way past his bedtime…but that was a secret he'd never tell his parents about. Also, because she had bribed him into keeping quiet about it.

Four – Emily smelled good. Like, _all_ the time. When JJ had dropped him off, Emily had smelled like girly perfume. It wasn't too heavy, like the one his nostrils had been able to detect on her skin whenever he had hung out with the team at work. No, this one was light and barely detectable. Maybe it was just shampoo? Or deodorant? To this day, Henry was still wondering about it. Then, she had left him munching on an apple while she had taken a quick shower and her scent changed. She had come out of the bathroom, smelling like a cake. Henry had clapped his hands in excitement, because in his four year old mind, he thought she had baked a cake for him…in the bathroom. She sure did smell like one, so it sounded like a plausible deduction! In reality, Emily had sprayed a new body mist, vanilla-scented. Henry had not left her side that night, burying his nose against her hand each chance he had, taking in that sweet smell of cake.

Five – if you are a four year old boy, staying over at Emily Prentiss' house for the night, and if you were hungry – you'd better opt for take-away right away! After an antagonizing hour of watching Emily struggle with a piece of chicken that his own mother would have handled in minutes, and after hearing her almost swear when the smoke alarm got triggered by the thick black smoke, coming from the oven, he had dared to ask for some Chinese. Anything Chinese. Just, food.

A five and a half year old Henry had once had a tummy ache. He remembered that day very well. JJ had been on a work trip, just outside the city, talking to the families of victims for some case. He was not too good at understanding her job, at the time. Will had called Emily, on his way to the ER, with Henry almost passed out in his hands. That had been the first time Henry had seen a hospital, as a patient. He had been terrified, but had put up a brave front for his daddy, as to not worry him. However, things had changed very quickly when Emily had walked in his room. Henry – the kid who did not like showing his emotions, had broken into tears, loudly expressing his wish to be home, in his own bed, and adding a very specific request: _"I want vanilla cake with strawberries!"_ Emily had chuckled before excusing herself for a moment. She never told him, but she had to run this by his doctor first and then she had procured the sweet treat for Henry, in the matter of minutes. Thank God for the hospital cafeteria…and the 24/7 mini market next to it, where she gotten her hands on the last pack of fresh strawberries, to decorate the plain white piece of vanilla cake with. Add a few colorful sprinkles on top and Henry was a happy child once again. A few months later, he had exchanged his love for colorful sprinkles with his even deeper love, for an equally as colorful Penelope Garcia. That relationship had started at an age when, as Penelope had once said, Henry was finally old enough to be fun when opening presents. But the relationship he had with Emily had started way before that.

For his sixth birthday Henry had asked his daddy for the family ring. As proud as Will had been at that moment, thinking that Henry was finally showing interest in girls, which at his age was cute, but at the age of sixteen would surely be a disaster; Will had not taken the news well when Henry had told him the reason for his request. _"Emmey is auuuusome and I want to mewwy hew!"_ He had stated, in all seriousness, nearly shooting his poor daddy straight to the ER, with a minor heart attack. That, coming out of his mouth when he was still having some troubles rolling his R's before Reid gave him a crash course in speech, was both heart-warming…and heart-wrenching for Will to hear. He already saw Emily way too much around, he wouldn't even dare to think if, in some parallel universe, she would be the wife of one of his sons. No. Just. No.

Currently standing at the airport, Emily finally let go of the poor child, who was now sweating and embarrassed beyond belief. The reason being – a cute girl, about his age, had been eyeing him, acting like a child and being clingy with Emily. He instantly felt ashamed and broke away from Emily's arms, even if he had been the one to initiate the cuddling.

"Yeah, we're at the phase now where he would ice me out if I ever dared hug him when I drop him off at school in the morning. He would not look at me for days after that." JJ laughed, explaining his sudden change of behavior.

"Ah!" Emily said, knowingly.

"What?" JJ looked Emily up and down. She knew there was something that Emily was itching to say.

"Like mother, like son." Emily finally came out and said it.

"I am not fussy!" JJ folded her arms and frowned, those mere gestures suggesting the opposite of what she had just stated.

"Okay, fine. Maybe sometimes I am." She finally relaxed and started laughing at herself.

"I love you, my husky puppies, but we have to get going. There is a pile of possible new cases on your desk…" Garcia said, pointing at Emily.

"…and I may have made reservations for dinner at our favorite restaurant, so if you don't want to lose our table, then move. Your loved ones are already there, waiting." Garcia shooed everyone towards the exit where they started dividing themselves in groups, having three cabs available.

On the way to the restaurant, Garcia's last words were being micro analyzed by her Boss.

_"__Your loved ones are already there, waiting…"_ Emily heard Garcia say over and over again, in her head.

JJ had Will, Henry and Mickey.

Surely Krystal would be there, for Rossi.

Matt's wife would be there too, if she had found someone to look after their perfect four kids back home, that evening.

But…who would be there for Emily? And why did she have this overwhelming desire to have a loved one, waiting for her? She had always been okay, on her own. She had landed in many airports before, without anyone out there, as she'd walk out of the arrivals gate. And she had been fine with it.

Then why was she feeling this way? Was she feeling…jealous? Was she simply just upset? Was she ready to commit to someone, enough that she would actually be looking forward to see him, waiting for her? Enough to be happy that they would be there, waiting impatiently for her return?

Why was she even thinking about that? What had triggered that?

What would she give, to be someone worth waiting for?

Was she going insane? Why was she having this downpour of questions, in her head?

"Emily?"

"Ehm, Emily?"

"PRENTISS!?"

"What?" Emily snapped out of it, only to realize they had arrived at the restaurant and everyone was already out of the car, waiting for her to come back to reality.

"Oh. Food. Yes. Okay…" Emily said lamely, getting out of the taxi and walking towards the restaurant entrance.

JJ and Rossi gave each other a look. They had both been noticing those little moments when Emily would zone out and get consumed by her own thoughts lately. They had never spoken about it, to each other, or God forbid – directly to Emily; but they kind of knew something was going on with her.

The team would then enjoy a nice relaxing dinner that night and allow themselves to laugh from the bottom of their hearts. They needed this, as a reward for a job well done. This had been their first case back to their normal routine, after a specific case that had been a bit too rough to handle. Most of them were still in therapy, now weeks after it had all happened, discussing the outcome and how it had affected them. None of them, however, dared to speak about it to another member of the team. It was like a huge taboo, between the eight of them.


	73. Garcia, Can I See Your Tush?

** CHAPTER 73**

_**GARCIA, CAN I SEE YOUR TUSH?**_

"Garcia, can I see your tush?" Reid started off Thursday with a bang.

He was way too headstrong to come out and ask people exactly what a 'tush' was. That would mean admitting the lack of knowledge about something and _that_, in turn, would be humiliating.

And he was too stubborn to let it go. That word had been bothering him since he had heard it. There was something about the way everyone had laughed about it, that bothered him. Reid usually didn't care when he was left out of funny jokes, because what most people considered funny, he considered low-class, boring or uneducated. And he was, for the most part, right about that.

But that tush comment was getting on his nerves. So, his best option was to play it off as if he wanted to see Garcia's. JJ had told him everyone had one and that he, himself, had a great one. One…_what_, though?

Rossi spit his coffee back into his mug, at the sound of Reid's innocent request.

The team had only been in the office for half an hour now, fresh and re-energized after the case and the flight back home the day before. Everyone was chill, minding their own business and being quiet.

And then there was Reid, now walking two steps behind Garcia, unknowingly following her tush to her work space.

"Shoo-shoo!" She made a hand gesture, shooing him away from her, not knowing that he was not even trying to make a joke.

"But, come on. Please!" He pleaded.

"I don't think you're ready to handle all that, Boy Genius. Shoo!"

"Please?" He repeated, only to have her smash the door in his face. Garcia had successfully retreated to her colorful dungeon, one she had no intention of leaving until the end of the work shift.

* * *

Clara, Angie and Kevin parked the car that the police station had kindly provided them with, in front of a building complex, in the outskirts of Havana.

"That's where the first three of our victims lived. The other two were from out of town." Clara pointed out, as if Angie hadn't already memorized the little info she had access to, on their way there.

Clara's papers were full of information, while Angie and Kevin's barely had any words on them. Everything was classified and 'beyond their clearance level', as SSA Garrett had kept on reminding them. And, while that sucked, it was still awesome to be out there, on the field, pretending to be one of _them_.

"Kevin – Diaz. Angie – Blanco. I take Delgado." Clara said calmly.

"Ok, what do we do to them?" The words escaped Angie's lips before she could register how weird that sounded.

"You braid their hair and ask if they're okay." Clara rolled her eyes, now stepping towards the first doors of the two-floor building that seemed like any standard, cheap American motel.

Kevin looked at Angie, still not getting it.

"You interview them!" Clara almost yelled out at them, their inability to catch on was frustrating to her.

"You know we're just a bunch of Trainees who, literally, got started like _days_ ago?" Kevin argued, suddenly feeling panicked.

"Yup." Clara said, this time much more softly. "And this lil' one over here uncovered a fake crime scene and found out the dead girl that we planted in your minds, to be alive. In two weeks. So…"

Angie allowed a proud smile to creep on her face. It was hardly a work done fast, but at least it was something that everyone knew her for.

"Is there going to be a problem?" Clara shot a glance, only to Kevin.

"N-no, Miss Seger." Kevin stuttered.

"Then go find yourself the door of the Diaz family." Clara tried so hard to be harsh and give discipline, but she was failing at it. She seemed like the cool old sister who was mentoring them through life, or rather – through the FBI process.

"I also chose the two of you because you are fluent in Spanish and you can communicate freely here." Clara specified.

"I never said I was." Angie argued.

Nowhere in her papers did Spanish appear. Unlike Kevin's official papers, which listed him as fluent in Spanish and sign language. He had grown up with Latina babysitters and a step-sister who with impaired hearing.

Clara ignored her and decided to address something else instead.

"And, it's _Agent_ Seger!" Both Angie and Clara said in unison, making Kevin feel double the idiot as he walked off, reading the signs on each door.

An hour later, Clara sent them both a text, asking them to join her in the car outside.

Kevin came over first, while Angie took another five minutes to roll up.

They compared stories and tried to find out something that linked the three victims. There didn't seem to be much, other than the fact that they were all poor and they lived in the same building complex. They all had different names, different hair, different body-build.

"Wait, didn't you mention the Delgado father speaking about a bembelequera?" Angie asked Clara.

"What's that?" Kevin questioned. His babysitters had been primarily from Chile and Peru, so he only knew slang from those parts of Latin America.

"In Cuban dialect, that's a person who gossips or spreads non-official news. Bemba on its own is slang for 'lips'." Angie shot out, like a human dictionary.

"The Diaz mother got cut off by her husband when she mentioned the word 'jamonero', but I don't know what that means, either. I suppose it is nothing like 'jamon', is it?" Kevin contributed.

"Oh, I love jamon!" Angie licked her lips. Ham was one of the yummiest things to her. "Twice smoked ham with brown sugar honey glaze. Oh God, yas, talk to me, baby!"

"Can you be any more random?" Kevin rolled his eyes. He was still new to all the weird things that surrounded Angie's persona.

"Kids, don't make mama hungry now!" Clara chuckled, but something hit Angie in the heart, like a sword.

Instantly, her eyes gave Clara an icy look and her lips pursed, showing disapproval in her choice of words.

Clara felt that right away and she sunk into the driver's seat, hoping that Kevin would be dumb enough to change the topic.

Which, he was.

"The Diaz guy almost shoved his wife into a corner when she dared utter that word." Kevin spoke at the right time.

"Jamonero is a creepy, touchy-feely guy. Cuban slang, again." Angie said, trying not to sound pissed, for whatever reason.

"So, we have a girl who spills secrets and likes to gossip…and a mysterious creepy man whom people are not allowed to talk about." Clara summed it up nicely.

"The Blanco victim's mother mentioned a 'yumo'. And before you ask - this is a word used to describe a foreigner and especially a white or blonde one. It would usually not be used for foreigners from elsewhere in Latin America. Unlike 'gringo', which refers only to a person from the United States, a 'yumo' can be from anywhere in the world, _but_ Latin America." Angie spoke, keeping her eyes at Kevin and refusing to even grace Clara with a look.

"That's good enough, for now. We have enough information to give to Monty. We should be careful about those words when we interview the other two victims' families, which is where we are heading off to now." Clara said while driving in direction, opposite to the center of Havana.

Half an hour later they arrived at another, similar building complex. It was a bit more broken down and dirty.

Clara strategically let Kevin go talk to one of the families, while she kept an eye on Angie, dragging her with herself to the doorsteps of the home of the second family.

"What's your strategy, going in?" Clara asked, sounding much like the teacher she was in the Auditorium, just days ago.

"Talk." Angie shrugged.

Clara was not having any of it. She hated asking a question and not getting a reply. She considered that rude.

"Be polite and show sympathy, not empathy. Be relatable. Be firm with what you give out as information and be kind when seeking such. Open questions only. No leading questions. No option-posing questions. Keep an eye out for the Unsub being part of the family...you never know. And last, but not least – smile." Angie shrugged, giving up only half of her real strategy.

"Good. Very good. Keep up with the open questions strategy and keep in mind we do not want to confuse them, nor to inflict any more pain to them, even if we think they might be hiding something." Clara said.

"Do we…" Angie shot her a glance before she could knock on the door. "…think that they are hiding something?" She added, making her question a bit more clear.

Clara nodded hesitantly.

They walked in and only spoke to the victim's father. The mother busied herself in the kitchen, which Clara found to be a very odd thing. If they were two foreigners, speaking in English, she could understand why this was intimidating to the woman. But, given how they both spoke perfect Spanish, even though Angie denied being able to, there was simply no reason why the woman would not be interested in hearing what they had to say.

Ten minutes into the interview, Clara was getting frustrated. The man was giving them no useful information and anything he said served to further confirm her suspicion that the families of the victims were hiding something.

Angie caught on that, too, so she came up with her own plan of action.

"Hola, yumo!" She greeted cheerfully, picking up the phone which had not even ringed. Kevin had sent her a text message, which made the screen light up and she jumped at the chance to play out a little scene.

With her right hand raised up, as a sign to excuse herself from the living room, she walked to the door and leaned against it comfortably, giving out the impression that she was talking to someone she was well familiar with.

As soon as she heard that word, the mother dropped a pan, full of food, which soon covered the kitchen floor and would surely stain her already dirty shoes.

The father shifted in his seat, his face now matching the off-white curtains on the window near him. He gulped and suddenly stood up, kicking Clara out and urging Angie to take one more step from where she was standing, so she would now be on the other side of that door. Outside.

He slammed the door in their face and Clara started walking towards the car triumphantly.

They did not exchange any words while waiting for Kevin to join them, some ten minutes later.

A lot was on Clara's mind as she drove in silence, back to the police station in Havana. First of all – she had to disregard all the useless information the parents had given her, and she now had to only take into consideration all the things they had communicated to her, non-verbally. Second – she wanted a Mojito. Third – she wouldn't mind sipping said drink with a hot Cuban macho.

First thing she did when they joined Garrett and Mae was to briefly tell them about her suspicion.

"That is…" Mae said in disbelief, when Clara stopped speaking. She could not even think of a word to describe what it was.

"It could just be someone who hates America…" Garrett spoke up, regarding the UnSub.

"No." Clara was convinced. "If he hated America, he would not be enveloping each victim with the flag. That's a sign of patriotism, not hatred."

"What about the fact that the girls were alive when wrapped in the flag, which he then proceeded to turn into emmental cheese with his knife?" Mae suggested, having just come back from the morgue, where she had been able to perform an autopsy on the latest two victims.

"Are you sure about that?" Clara asked.

"Yes. The stab wounds are consistent with the ripping of the material. Plus, I found tissues from the flag, deep inside the victims' bodies, suggesting that they had been stabbed _through_ the cloth, not _before_ being enwrapped in it. This goes for both girls I examined. I can't say about the previous three victims, as it is too late and the bodies are already buried."

"So quickly?" Clara gasped. "All the families are poor. How did they manage to get the funds so fast?"

Angie looked over at Kevin, clearly having something to say. Kevin just shook his head at her, urging her to keep quiet.

"You two? You're not only here to grace us with your beauty. Speak up." Garrett commanded and Clara could not believe how rude he was.

"Don't talk to them like that!" She jumped at the chance to defend her two chosen ones.

"Well, they are barely of any help at all. The way I see it – we're babysitting a bunch of teenagers." Jack rolled his eyes.

_"__God, give me the strength not to punch him out!"_ Angie's inner voice screamed at her, while on the outside she tried to seem composed.

"Chill!" Clara mouthed to her, because, clearly, she did not seem as composed as she thought she was.

"Actually…" Clara then directed her words to Jack. "They did really well today and they saved the IRS valuable time for questioning. While I was not able to follow Kevin personally, throughout his interview, he did give back important information. I entered with Angela for her second interview and she was composed, well-behaved and very efficient with her questions and the technique she used. She was also familiar with Cuban slang, hence able to connect to the families and make them think of her as one of their own, which is crucial when we are interviewing foreigners, which, we always do. So, please, shut up and stop putting pressure on them. Look at them!" Clara pointed at Angie who was now biting her nails and Kevin whose gaze was shot down to the edge of the table. "They're scared to even say a word. That's not what we stand for, Jack! When I came in, I was young and inexperienced and you welcomed me and you stood by my side and-…"

Clara was on a roll. She had a short fuse and she had a good enough relationship with her boss to be able to stand up to him like this.

Yet, when she made the reference to the past, and the way he had treated her, she finally understood what his problem with Angela was. Stopping mid-sentence, Clara sighed and sat back in her chair, receiving a smug smile from Jack, who would later on have to fess up to a few things, since he was sure Clara wouldn't let it go so easily.

"Uhm, may I point out that I'm hungry?" Mae said sweetly, shifting the conversation from the mess that it was, back to a topic they surely all enjoyed. Food.

She had already eyed a really nice Cuban restaurant, on her way back to the police station earlier.

Ten minutes later, the team was sitting on a table, near the window. Maybe with some food in their systems, the grown-ups might start acting like such. Although, to Angie and Kevin, Clara's little outburst had been quite entertaining.

Angie took her time in choosing what she would like to order. Surely her food tickets would not be of any value in Cuba, and with the cash she had on her she could only order…

"Papas fritas, por favor." She said to the waiter, giving him a tiny smile and feeling like trash.

Everyone else had ordered at least two things from the menu, which was fancy and most of it sounded really intriguing to her.

"¿Bebida?" The waiter asked and she shook her head. She had no money for a drink to accompany her 'huge' order of a portion of French fries.

"Ella comerá lo mismo que pedí." Clara stated and there was absolutely no chance Angie would be able to argue that decision of hers. Not when Clara was now staring at her with eyes, ready to jump out and explode in Angie's face, if she dared say anything.

When the waiter came back with the food, Angie gasped. She hadn't paid much attention to what everyone else was ordering earlier, so she was pleasantly surprised to find out now that Clara had chosen two of her favorite dishes. And since Clara had told the waiter that Angie would eat the same thing she ordered, this meant that two identical plates then landed in front of Angie. Plus, a fruit juice. If Angie were five years old, she would now be jumping at Clara and kissing the ground she walked on. But it had been a long time since Angie was five, or a child, and she was not going to show any sign of affection, not even to someone who was now forcefully feeding her amazing food, one that Angie could not pay for and prayed that she would not have to pay for at the end of the meal. But, for the time being, she consoled herself with the fact that she could dive in and finish every bit of food on both of her plates.

"Can I get a Coke?" Kevin asked, earning himself a very nasty look by the waiter.

"Ehm, dude, Cuba is, like, one of the two countries in the world where Coca Cola is legally banned." Angie laughed at him, once again making him feel like an idiot.

She liked him. She did. But it was so much fun messing with him.

They spent the next twenty minutes eating in silence, before Garrett spoke up.

"So, we go back to the police station and squeeze another couple of hours of work. Then we head out to our hotel, it's quite close, actually, we can simply just walk there and leave the car at the police parking lot. With my previous experience in Cuba, that would be a wise choice, unless we want to find broken windows in the morning. They don't really like Americans around here. Especially if they are dumb enough to ask for a Coca Cola…" He looked at Kevin in disbelief.

"Any special requests? Anyone wants a single room? Anyone wants to bunk together? Let me know before I confirm the rooms." He then added.

"Well, no one could ever bunk as good as Matt did…" Mae trailed off, missing her old partner in crime. They had the sweetest relationship, ever since they went through the FBI Academy together, years ago. They were a version of Angie and Bryan, or Emily and Morgan. Or Morgan and Garcia, sans the sexual element to their verbal interactions.

"But I guess we shall see?" Mae added, looking at Kevin in a way that she hoped would not be interpreted as anything more than professional-borderline-friendly.

"Yeah, it would be nice to share a room with a girl, for a change." Kevin laughed. He was unfortunate enough to have an idiot for a roommate at the Academy. Nothing Mae could do would ever annoy him, even half as much as that guy back at Quantico.

"Guess that leaves us two sharing then?" Clara looked at Angie.

Mae had suspected Clara would choose Angie, that was why she chose Kevin first, making Clara's choice easier for her. There was something…just something about Clara, when she was around Angie.

Jack was too busy to notice that, as all he saw when he looked at Angela was…someone else.

It was obvious to everyone that the IRS Unit Chief would have a room for himself only, so it all worked out perfectly.

"Why would the families be involved with the death of their daughters?" On their way back to the police station Jack questioned Clara's earlier deduction once again.

"Whoever the UnSub is, we can be fairly sure he is of American descent. He is luring poor families, promising them things and sometimes even making good on those promises-…" Clara started off but Angie cut her off and continued.

"The Diaz patriarch had an expensive watch. 400 dollars, easily. And the mother from the second family – I caught a glimpse of her earrings, and let me tell you this much – it wasn't cubic zirconia." Angie ended off with a smile.

"Hmm…" Jack started being interested and Angie thought it had been the mention of the earrings, so she jumped at the chance to tell them something they did not need to hear.

"Cubic zirconia is the cubic crystalline form of zirconium dioxide, that's ZrO2, to be precise. The synthesized material is hard and usually colorless, but may be made in a variety of different colors. It should not be confused with zircon, which is a zirconium silicate. In fact, cubic zirconia is simply just CZ, while zirconium silicate is ZrSiO4, which shows much more complexity and obviously, the price goes up. Now, zirconium dioxide, sometimes known as zirconia, is a white crystalline oxide of zirconium. Its most naturally occurring form, with a monoclinic crystalline structure, is the mineral baddeleyite." She stated calmly, as if she was reading it out of a book.

Jack's jaw nearly dropped. At first glance, she looked nothing more than a girl who was bored with her life, so she decided to try out for the FBI, on a whim, so she could then tweet about it and get more followers. She looked way too young and way too Barbie-like to even be taken seriously down the halls at Quantico. And that damn stupid bow, to top it all…

Clara just stood there, arms crossed, taking in Jack's confusion and staring back at him with that smug smile she had promised him, her eyes screaming _'I told you so'_ at him.

"Please, be my best friend!" Mae grabbed Angie's hand and raised it up, as a sign of appreciation. She had never been able to find someone who liked chemistry as much as she did.

"I thought I already was!" Angie chuckled, her slim fingers locking with Mae's.

She was so easy to relate to and so hard to hate. No wonder Mae gravitated towards her from the moment they met. They were both kind of the same, when it came to character.

"I believe the UnSub somehow makes the family trust him and they trade their own daughter, for goods. Which, clearly, sounds horrible. But those people are poor and uneducated about the risks they are taking. Now, about the fast burial, I bet the UnSub helped speed that process up. He probably paid everything, covering up his tracks this way." Clara went back to the actual topic of the conversation.

"Speaking of paying…" Jack waved the waiter down, asking for the bill.

Angie pursed her lips and emptied her wallet on the table. Seven American dollars, that was all she had.

"What are you doing?" Clara asked, for two reasons. One – did she not think of the fact that they were in a country with different currency? Two – did she think 7 dollars were going to cover it all? Actually, three reasons, the third one being – why did she think she was supposed to pay anyway?

Jack swiped the work card and paid for everything. That was when it hit her – it must be amazing to be an FBI Agent and to get all expenses paid when traveling, food included. She wondered if that card could be used at a bar, too.

Angie saw Jack shake his head at her cute attempt to pay for herself. There was also one more thing that caught her curiosity…was that a smile, threatening to appear on his face?

They spent three more hours, talking victimology and case-linkage. Monty, even remotely, was able to dig up some files from the end of the Summer, where two more girls had been found in the outskirts of Havana, but instead of being wrapped in the flag, they were holding it with one hand. Both girls were Cuban citizens, from poor families. That brought the Unsub's victims to seven, if that was even _all_ of it. Having limited access to computers, a lot of the local cases were filed on paper, leaving no digital breadcrumbs for Monty to follow.

Once they stepped into the hotel, hours later, they felt a wave of exhaustion. The heat, the overseas travel, the jet lag – it all hit them the moment they were given their room keys. Without much talking, they separated and would not see each other or talk about work before breakfast, the day after.


	74. Putting That Glove On The Wrong Hand

** CHAPTER 74**

_**PUTTING THAT GLOVE ON THE WRONG HAND**_

"Not so fast." Clara said when Angie started taking her shoes off, as soon as they entered their hotel room the first night in Cuba.

"I don't like bringing germs from the street in, where I'm going to relax and get in my zone." Angie shrugged and continued to untie her shoes.

Clara sat next to her and held her hand, so that she would stop fiddling with the shoe laces. Weirdly, Angie didn't shriek away. She felt almost…comfortable, with Clara.

"I need a drink." She stated.

"Cheers. Have fun." Angie waved at her with her free hand.

There was this weird banter between them. Angie usually treated people elder than her with maximum respect. But somehow, with Clara, she was being a little bit snappy and Clara did not seem to mind that, at all. In fact, she replied with something witty instead.

"I _will_ have fun. With you. Now get your ass up, young girl, and let's go explore Havana." Clara stood up, forcing Angie to do the same, as she pulled her up, still holding one of her hands.

"Taking someone some place they do not wish to be at, after they explicitly stated their opinion about it, is considered kidnapping, you know?" Angie folded her hands when she finally managed to get rid of Clara's grasp.

"And offering someone free drinks at a bar, after a job well done, is considered a gesture of good heart." Clara smiled.

"Free drinks?" Angie bit on her lip.

There were very few things in life that could get her to sell her soul to the Devil and the word 'free' usually appeared before each word on that list.

"Mhm." Clara nodded. "Plus, it has been proven by various studies that a woman, accompanied, even if it were by another woman, faces less than half the risk of being taken advantage of, at night. So, unless you want to send me off into the night and then spend the rest of your life wondering what happened to me, unable to find out where some wild fella has dumped my lifeless body, I suggest you put those shoes on and get going."

Damn. It was as if Clara knew Angie better than she knew herself. Free drinks plus playing with her guilty conscious? Throw in some reverse psychology and Angie was already tying the shoelaces again.

* * *

"Hello." Emily said weakly, testing the grounds she was now walking on, having just entered the office of a man who was way high in the FBI chain.

Coming back from the case, she was welcomed by an e-mail from him, expressing his wish to see her in his office. That made her feel like she was back in high-school and called into the principal's office. It could go one of two ways: she would either get praised, which was highly unlikely to happen, given the drama the BAU was still trying to swim out of; or she would be yelled at for whatever reason. Emily had prepared herself mentally for the latter.

"Agent Prentiss." The man greeted her with a smile, sounding cheerful, which she took as a good sign.

He motioned for her to take a seat and she did so in the most graceful way she could.

Emily Prentiss was a klutz. She would knock things over, she would randomly sit on objects, she would leave her bag in weird places, she would do just about anything that was out of the ordinary, to a normal person. Sometimes she'd sit on the edge of the chair, while trying to be cute, only to find herself in misbalance and fighting to not pop her tush to the floor, in public.

This time, however, she managed to look graceful. The back of her smart jacket got stuck to the chair, but she masked it up perfectly, bringing her hand up to fix her perfectly fixed hair, and then swiftly brushing it against the jacket, until it rolled back down, hugging her frame.

_Well plaid_, she gave herself a mental compliment.

"With everything that happened – and I'm talking about your hearing and the whole Section Chief scandal, we've had our eyes on you. And let me tell you, those eyes did not look at you with approval. And yet, it took you two days to crack a case that nobody else wanted. I ask myself – how? What motivated that?" The man sat back in his chair, oozing authority.

"Well, Sir…" Emily started off, speaking slowly, calmly and most importantly – confidently. "My team is no new to dealing with questioning eyes. The BAU started off, years ago, with three brilliant young profilers, who got laughed at and nobody believed that profiling was even a thing. They fought hard to prove everyone wrong, which they eventually did, earning themselves the respect they deserved. Now, I would never allow myself to perform anywhere beyond the standards they set, especially not while working side-to-side with one of those three founders. I have a tremendous amount of respect for SSA Rossi, he has taught me a lot. No, he _still_ teaches me a lot. Every. Single. Day!"

The man across the table could not help but smile at her words.

"You asked me _how_? I don't know _how_, Sir." She replied honestly, making him a bit confused.

"I know _why_." She added, after giving him a second to be confused. She wanted to create exactly that effect with her words. "Because of Agents Rossi, Jareau, Garcia, Morgan, Reid, Alvez, Simmons, Lewis…"

There was no way Emily would forget mentioning Morgan's name, even if he wasn't with them anymore. He was a reason for her success, he _had_ to be mentioned and there was no question about that.

The man in front of Emily was now beyond confused. She had just shot out a bunch of names. How was that an answer to what he had asked her?

"Because those people are what inspire me to give my best, on the field. And in the office, of course." Here it was, a tiny geeky moment.

"They make me smile when I wake up in the morning, even though I know I would probably be getting into a fight, or a shootout, my ass would get kicked in 90 percent of the time and I would be going back home, if I was lucky, with only just some major bruising and possibly a few open wounds, with fresh blood soaking through the surgical tape that some doctor most definitely told me to change, a few hours ago."

Emily kept her eyes on the man, at some point even making him feel a bit uncomfortable, so he diverted his gaze to check a few of his accomplishments, printed and framed, hanging on the wall. Mentally, he was reminding himself of the long road he had been on, before he got to sit behind _that_ desk. He had been a young Agent once, full of hope and expectations. Life had given him lemons more times than he could count and each time he had tried to turn that around, he had received a loud slap across the face, whether it came from an UnSub or someone standing higher in the FBI chain.

He did not _understand_ Emily Prentiss.

No.

He _was_ Emily Prentiss. Years ago.

"Agent Prentiss, I called you here this morning, to let you know that if you have any troubles, or any requests, you should feel free to come straight to me, now that you don't have an active Section Chief to bring your questions and troubles to. I am not a man who gives compliments, everybody knows that…" He trailed off. It was _her_ time to sweat in confusion now.

"However, I wanted to tell you in person, how incredibly proud I am to supervise a team, who sticks together like you guys do, and who gives their Unit Chief the respect she deserves. Because you, Emily Prentiss, have showed nothing but professional attitude and leadership since the day my Superior and I assigned you as Unit Chief." He gulped, feeling a bit weird to be giving a compliment. He wasn't a rude man, in fact, he was quite well liked. He just did not do compliments.

"That was you!?" Emily nearly flipped out. Scratch being professional.

He nodded.

"Ben…" Emily whispered, entering the zone of friendly conversation, which, she had already had lots of those, with this man…just maybe _outside_ their offices.

"Emily, you deserve to be happy. And this job makes you happy. You are amazing at it. And after the recent turn of events, I just wanted you to be reminded of how great and capable you are." He said softly, this time leaning over the table, whispering, as he entered that friendship zone quite fast, as well.

"I always thought it was a voting thing…" Emily had so many questions.

"It was. Well, Agent Hotchner expressed his wish to have _you_, as his substitute after he left. That was merely just a wish. The final result depended on my office and my Superior, of course. We made your team put an anonymous vote for a new leader and every single piece of paper we received, had _your_ name written on it."

"Which means nobody voted for themselves…" Emily sighed with relief. She knew how much Morgan wanted that spot, even JJ. Rossi was the one who deserved it the most, but he had been happy to step down and put the crown on Emily's head instead.

"Emily, they all wanted _you_. And when you hand in your files after closing a case, I understand why. I simply authorized their wish, plus, it was the thing I would have ultimately chosen for the BAU, even if they had voted for someone else. So, not all credit goes to me, after all. Also, the Director had his eyes on you for quite some time already. Emily, people believe in you!" He smirked.

"God, this is making me feel…weird…" She chuckled all of a sudden.

They were both now leaning over the huge table, whispering to each other, as if they were part of an international conspiracy theory.

"Yeah, but if I had delivered that news over our Thursday afternoon coffee run, it wouldn't have sounded as cool, huh?" He gave up and started laughing as well.

Emily and Ben went way back. They were close, without being friends. It made no sense, but it worked for them. She knew nothing about his life outside the job and he knew nothing about her lack of a personal life. And yet, they had a set coffee date once a week, chatting about cases and strategies, as if they had grown up together. Then there was also the light, fun, non-engaging conversation that helped both of them distress. Plus, being seen with the Big Boss was always something Emily welcomed with pride. She'd make sure she looked extra good on Thursdays, so people would be a little more jealous when they saw them hang out for those twenty minutes after lunch break.

They decided to get out of the office and go grab their coffee earlier that day. The formalities were over and done with. SSA Prentiss got her praise from the Boss, now it was Emily's time to chill with Ben.

"How's the Academy going?" She asked casually, walking down a path, covered by fallen autumn leaves.

She knew that Dan was the Academy Mentor, and his direct Superior was Ben, who then would sum it all up and report to _his_ Boss – the FBI Director. That was the chain of command.

"_She_ is doing exceptionally well." He smirked, replying to what he knew Emily _actually_ wanted to ask.

She opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it. Ben was smart. He had read right through her.

"What's with this girl, anyway?" He asked "Everyone seems to be into her, asking about her."

"Guess she's just really nice and she makes people feel good. God knows we need more people like her, around here." Emily laughed it off, keeping most of her truthful answer to herself.

"That she does." Ben laughed. "She hasn't shown her face around the Executive Lounge since the time of your hearing."

"Miss her, much?" Emily smirked.

"Maybe…" Ben said truthfully.

He had grown to like Angie's funny remarks and her Diva-like attitude. No doubt the kid was smart and capable, but there was also something else about her and he could not figure it out. Nobody could.

"I hear she's into profiling." He said after taking another sip of his oversized coffee cup.

"Mm, yeah?" Emily replied, casually.

"Come on, now!" He challenged her.

Emily could not play him like that. There was no way she did not know the fact that he had just stated.

Emily blushed. Ben had this way of figuring her out quickly and he was not afraid to put her on the spot.

"I hear there's a great profilers' unit in the field offices in New York. She'd fit in like a glove." Emily brought her own mug to her lips, taking a big sip and enjoying the harsh taste of her coffee, unsweetened.

"No doubt she'd fit like a glove…" He looked at Emily, forcing her to look back at him. "You're just putting that glove on the wrong hand."

Emily shivered. Ben was not just her random work friend, he was also the Boss of all of her Superiors and Bosses. His suggestion, subtle as it was, was received loud and clear by Emily.

"Well, the right hand has half of its fingers chopped off, currently…" Emily's subtle hint was received loud and clear by Ben, as well.

The BAU would surely be the right fit for this girl. Too bad the BAU had its budget cut in half and a ban on welcoming an intern that year.

Emily and Ben spent the next five minutes of their coffee break, just walking in silence, before they went back to their offices.

* * *

"Chupitos! Chupitos! Chupitos! YEAAAAAHHH !" Angie yelled at the top of her lungs.

She had only been in that bar for fifteen minutes now, and she was already the life of the party, urging everyone to come take shots with her.

Clara gave herself a pat on the shoulder, for her decision to take Angie out for the night. She needed it, they both did. Plus, getting Angie drunk would surely make her be nicer to Clara. Would it?

The bartender cracked open a brand new bottle of Angie's favorite Santiago De Cuba Añejo, pouring it into what seemed like a million shot glasses.

"Ella pagará!" Angie pointed at Clara.

The arrangement had been that Clara offered Angie drinks. Nowhere was it written that Angie was at liberty to offer drinks to the whole bar and then put that on Clara's tab.

She did not mind, though. Her sweet government salary allowed her to do crazy stunts like that, every once in a while.

"C'mon, join the party!" Angie urged Clara when she noticed her being a bit reserved.

Clara was known to be the one to make people dance. A few years back she had randomly put some music and made Emily Prentiss dance in the middle of the day, in the middle of her office, just because Clara felt like doing so. Oh, the memories with that woman were her favorite ones.

_"Quiero que subamos asta el cielo y que me quieras_

_desde luego como yo lo voy hacer_

_Sabes que te quiero_

_bien sabes que te quiero_

_Ven y no te sigas reprimiendo que el_

_termometro en tu cuerpo indica_

_que tienes la sangre hirviendo_

_solo amarte es todo lo que quiero_

_que quitandote los dedos rompetelo de una vez."_

Angie sung along with the lyrics of a very old Cuban song: Suavecito, by Ignacio Pineiro.

"Do I even want to know how you know old Cuban music and contemporary Cuban slang?" Clara raised an eyebrow while swaying to the rhythm of the song, with a drink in her hand.

"Nope." Angie smirked. Some things she would never admit to.

Clara laughed, knowing that arguing with this girl would be nothing but a waste of time and energy.

An hour later, the music had picked up its pace and they were now playing Cubaton – the Cuban reggaeton music. Angie was in her element, dancing with pretty much every single guy at the bar. Clara followed in her footsteps, but she was a bit more picky about her choice of a dance partner.

"Hola." A beautiful Latino guy creeped up from behind Clara, as she was scanning the horizon for a potential someone to dance with.

"Okay." She laughed at her direct answer to something he had not even had the chance to ask her yet.

Seconds later, he was dragging her to the dancefloor and showing her some questionable moves. Clara did not mind.

Every now and then she'd shoot a glance over to Angie who was changing partners every two seconds, it seemed. Clara stuck to that tall, dark-haired, sweaty in the sexiest way, Cuban dude. His name was a mystery, but who cared anyway?

"You better not kick me out of the room tonight!" Angie said to her at some point, when she was close enough to where Clara was dancing.

Clara shrugged, making Angie nervous at the thought that she might actually get to spend the night in the hotel lobby if Clara brought this guy home.

It was not how Clara operated, though. Yes, she would go out and have some fun, a few too many drinks, find herself a cute guy and maybe lose herself a little bit. But she would never bring someone home for a one-night stand. Not anymore. That was more Emily Prentiss' modus operandi. Clara was the stable one, with the good head on her shoulders.

"Get it, gurl!" Angie yelled when she saw the, otherwise stable, SSA Clara Seger, locking lips with a guy she still had no idea what to call, other than _hot_.

Clara chuckled against his lips, but did not break the seal they had created. What the Hell? You only live once.

"This one is for you, Prentiss!" She murmured, bringing her drink up in the air, toasting to someone who would have been incredibly proud of her, had she been there to witness it all.

* * *

"Uhhh, last time I was this sweaty, _she_ was on top of me." Richard thought to himself, with a smirk on his face as he brushed drops of sweat off his forehead.

He had just finished his morning run. The sun was about to rise above the beautiful city of Love, a city that he lived in, in love with someone who wouldn't even call him. How unfortunate.

Walking around, he reached one of the bars that open this early in the morning. It was a place where he usually got his coffee and croissant after his jog around the park.

"Bonjour Richard." A woman smiled at him from behind the counter, as soon as he walked in.

"Bonjour Esmée, ça va?" He greeted her back, asking how she was doing.

The woman told him some stuff about her family and he kept on smiling. He was a regular there, he knew the staff and he had always been curious to hear how their families were doing. A year ago, the owner of this little bar had invited Richard to a picnic with the staff, as some sort of a team building thing. He had enjoyed it a lot and he had gotten to know the husbands, wives and kids of the few people who would pour his coffee every morning.

Richard was an easy to love guy. He was relatable, funny, outgoing and very polite. He made friends easily, he spoke to everyone and he treated everyone with respect. He had been brought up well, his parents had installed this good behavior in him since his early childhood and thus he had turned out to be an amazing kind of a guy. Ever since he was old enough to think about girls, love, marriage and kids, he had known that one day he would give the same kind of education to his own children – they would turn out to be just like him.

"Still not dating anyone?" The bartender asked with a cheeky smile.

In the past, Richard had walked in with a few women by his side. He had tried getting the women he dated, to go jogging with him in the morning. All of them had hated it. And it had been a while now, since Richard had last brought someone in for his morning coffee.

"It's…complicated." He replied with a shrug.

He left a twenty Euro bill on the counter and retrieved his coffee. He never waited for the change, money was not a problem for him.

Five minutes later he found himself at the park again, this time sitting near a place that made him both happy and sad.

There it was – the same exact spot where Lauren had sat, when they had met, right next to that fountain.

When he closed his eyes, he could swear he was able to detect her perfume, feel her presence there, right next to him. But when he opened them, he was out there, all alone.

He thought long and hard about what that day had meant to him. Lauren had no idea, about _any_ of it. And the truth was eating him alive. It was a huge burden to carry on his shoulders.

Did she hate him now?

Did she even think about him anymore?

Had she moved on?

Was she seeing someone else?

Had he been just a fling, during her week off from her normal life?

Was there this weird feeling in her stomach as well…that stupid feeling…that fluttering…?

Would it all have been different, had she known the truth?

Would he ever get the chance to explain?

"Yes?" He replied, the third time his phone rang. The first two times he was too busy, thinking about _her_.

"Dude, I just woke up and realized I must have accidentally grabbed your driving license last night. I'm so sorry, I just found it in my wallet. Do you want me to come give you a lift to work this morning?" Victor spoke frantically.

"It's okay, Vic. I'm out for a jog. I'll go home and take a shower before I get to the office. And what has gotten into you…are you afraid I might get in trouble with the authorities if they catch me driving without a license? Aww!" Richard spoke teasingly.

There was no chance in Hell anyone would ever dare give _him_ a ticket and he knew it.

"Well, when you put it like that…" Victor laughed as well.

He couldn't imagine Richard in trouble, behind bars or even just with a ticket. For so many reasons.

"Are you _there_ again?" Victor then asked.

He knew exactly where Richard would be.

"Yeah…" Richard admitted after a long pause, during which he sipped on his coffee.

"Don't do this to yourself, man."

"I'm fine. It's a public park. People come here to unwind." Richard argued.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Ugh, I'll see you in the office later, okay?" With those words, Richard ended the call.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan"** Reid is all anti-technology, ignoring it as much as he can. Plus, I needed him to ask around lol. Kevin knows Spanish very well, because of his babysitters, growing up. Angie? I dunno...That's still a secret :P (I'm a mean tease hehe sowwiii!) I'm jealous about all the "all expenses paid" stuff the FBI hands out. Angie would LOVE this part of the job, if she ever gets to be an Agent!


	75. Why Haven't You Always Been In My Life?

** CHAPTER 75**

_**WHY HAVEN'T YOU ALWAYS BEEN IN MY LIFE?**_

"Prentiss?" JJ called out for her, as soon as she got back to the office after her coffee date with Ben.

"I took the liberty of checking out a few cases that had been offered to us…" JJ could not help her old ways.

She used to be the one who would choose the cases they'd work on and she could not grow out of that habit. Something about choosing a case, then pursuing it and ultimately putting the bad buy behind bars, was giving JJ the biggest sense of accomplishment ever. And, also, satisfaction, nearly as good as the one Will could give her.

"What do you have for me, ChayChay?" Emily smiled, seemingly in a great mood.

JJ walked her through the information she had on the one specific case she had chosen. It took Emily a second to confirm they would be taking up on it. She trusted JJ immensely.

"Alright then, I guess we're off to Canyonlands National Park on Saturday." JJ stated.

"Utah, cool!" Reid overheard them and he was excited. He didn't dislike Utah, like he disliked other places in the States.

"Well, Hanksville, to be precise. That's where our victim lived." JJ said while waving for everyone to gather up and follow her to the meeting room.

"Wait, victim? Singular?" Rossi questioned as he sat down on his favorite chair.

"Yes, this is not serial and the Hanskville police has contacted us to make sure it wouldn't turn into such." JJ pointed out, right before realizing she was completely taking over Emily's job and maybe overstepping just a little bit. It was always Emily who spoke to the team about a case.

"Go ahead." Emily sensed that, so she was quick to give JJ the word. She did not mind, not even a tiny little bit. In fact, she liked seeing JJ fired out and stepping up. It came natural for JJ to play that role.

"There is only one victim so far, but what makes this a Federal case is the unusual brutality and the religious connotation to her death. I cannot say anything more until we go and see it with our own eyes. I want each one of us to create their own idea about the case." JJ said, clutching onto the case files she had been sent by the local police.

There was a photo and a paper, describing the wounds and an assumption had been made. But JJ knew better than to put unconfirmed information in her colleague's heads. She would rather them figure it out on their own.

"Alright then, wheels up on Saturday morning." Emily was happy to take the second lead.

Since JJ never got the chance to assist her in the previous case, because of the whole being kidnapped thing, it felt good that she was now doing her best to be on top of her game with this new case. Emily did not mind.

"Why not today or tomorrow?" Reid asked. It was still Thursday afternoon.

"The police have asked us for a couple of days before they would officially invite us in on the case. They want to make sure this wasn't just a sick psycho with a one-time offense. You know how upsetting it is when the Feds are called in for nothing. There is nothing I can do until they send in the paperwork." JJ shrugged. "They said the earliest we could go was Saturday, if called, which is surely happening."

"Just in case, guys, keep one hand on the Go Bag. We need to be ready at any time. This is _not_ about to turn into serial murder case." Emily stated, with conviction in her voice.

Rossi almost heard that old Emily style voice - the one who was kick ass, strong, confident and amazing at her job. She was slowly coming back and he could not feel any more proud.

"For you…" JJ handed a cup of coffee to Emily when they were the only two people left in the meeting room. Everyone else had retrieved to the Bullpen as soon as the team briefing had concluded.

"Oh, no thanks." Emily waved her hands, dismissing her favorite drink.

Wow, something must be very wrong with Emily Prentiss if JJ lived to see the day that woman rejected a coffee.

"Trying to cut down the caffeine. I'm having troubles sleeping recently." Emily elaborated, seeing JJ's confused expression.

"Oh, are the nightmares back?" JJ questioned, feeling a bit worried all of a sudden.

A while ago, Emily had confided something in her. Then she had said it was no longer an issue.

_Back_? JJ had no idea they were never really gone.

"No, no. I just, I don't know…I find it hard to fall asleep. Like, there is something keeping me awake for hours, no matter how tired I am." Emily shrugged, now envying the way JJ was sipping on that extra coffee herself.

"Troubles? Overthinking something?" JJ suggested. She knew Emily well enough.

"Mhh, not exactly. I mean, I don't know. I really don't know. I try to close my eyes and it's just…not helping."

"Thinking about cases? Maybe one case in specific?" JJ raised an eyebrow.

Emily had yet to come out and speak about what had happened over a month ago. She refused to go to therapy about it and she refused to participate in any conversation where the subject was _that_ case. The entire BAU was walking on eggshells, waiting for the day this would all blow up in Emily's face. It was inevitable. She was bound to freeze, they just prayed that it wouldn't be during a case, God forbid, on the field.

Just to make sure Emily was covered, Rossi had been keeping an eye out on her every move, watching her like a hawk. He was, however, seeing very different non-verbal clues, ones that were not connected to what had happened on that case.

"Have you tried those herbal pills I gave you? Those work magic on me." JJ had been through her fair share of sleepless nights and those herbal based little things had helped her tremendously.

"Yeah. Not working on me." Emily sighed.

"Okay, try to explain what you think of, what you feel, when you can't fall asleep."

"Well, I'm tired…and I go to bed, I do all the things I normally do, you know, nice relaxing shower after a glass of wine, put some body lotion on, go to bed. And then I close my eyes and I can't sleep. At all. For hours. It's annoying!" With each next statement, Emily was getting more and more worked up.

"Did you change the body lotion? Maybe the smell of it is triggering your senses. That's what happened to me when I bought that strong melon-scented lotion. It's super nice, just not for when you go to bed. The smell was nauseatingly sweet and strong. I couldn't sleep either."

"No, I always use the same shower gel, same body lotion, same toothpaste. Same wine, mind you." Emily grinned. She did love her wine.

"Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary lately? Maybe your routine, maybe even the clothes you wear to bed? Remember that cute pajama set Garcia bought last year? She said she couldn't breathe in it and she was having troubles sleeping. Maybe it's the clothes…"

"JJ…" Emily trailed off, raising an eyebrow challengingly. JJ was smart enough to figure out her mistake.

"Oh, oops…my bad." JJ blushed.

Being her closest friend for so many years, she _had_ to know that Emily did not like sleeping with clothes on. It wasn't public knowledge, but JJ definitely knew.

Emily owned _one_ set of nightwear and it was in her Go Bag, because she only ever used it when traveling. And, not even _every_ night, if she had the luxury of having her own hotel room.

"There's that annoying feeling…" Emily spoke, after a long moment of analyzing her night routine and trying to figure out what was so different now.

"Headaches?" JJ asked, but Emily shook her head. It was not that.

"Nausea?" JJ suggested when she saw how Emily subconsciously put her hand on her stomach.

"No, not exactly nausea. I don't know." Emily shrugged. There was no good word she could put to that feeling.

"Pains? Maybe it's from that case a while ago…I mean, the UnSub kicked you in the stomach pretty hard…"

"No, it's not a pain. It's like…tickling. I don't know, okay?" Emily was now beyond frustrated. All those books she had read at Yale before graduating with Honors, and she was unable to think of the right word. What a disappointment.

JJ tilted her head sideways. Something wasn't adding up.

"Tickling, huh?" JJ smirked. "Does it feel like super small contractions on the inside? Like, there is a feather? And when it tickles, it makes you smile?"

"Yeah, yeah, exactly!" Emily sighed with relief this time. Finally, something made sense. Well, apart from the smiling thing. She could not figure out why that discomfort was really making her smile, but it was, just like JJ had suggested.

"Like…there is something…fluttering…?" JJ pushed it, the final straw. She was enjoying the heck out of this conversation.

"Precisely!" Emily was completely oblivious to what she was admitting.

"Well, congratulations." JJ smirked. This was the best conversation she's had with Emily in a long time.

Emily gave her a confused look. This was hardly a nice feeling to have, not to mention its consequences – the lack of sleep being the worst of them all. Why would JJ be so rude?

"Let me guess, it all started after you came back?"

"Yeah…" Emily was still not getting it.

"Oh, Ems…" JJ chuckled and gave her a hug.

"Freaking finally!" JJ added, throwing Emily deeper into the pool of confusion.

"I need a new best friend. You're not helping." Emily cringed, breaking the hug. None of this made sense to her.

"I need to get back to my office." Emily added, walking away from a situation she was not enjoying.

JJ kept on grinning like a child. She had only waited for that moment for about ten years, if not more.

"Ah, Emily Prentiss…what have you gotten yourself into during that vacation?" JJ muttered to herself.

Whatever it was, those fluttering butterflies in her stomach were surely not going away any time soon, judging by the way Emily explained them.

* * *

"Hey, guys!" Mae said loudly, popping on a chair around the breakfast table in their hotel.

Angie had somehow successfully kicked Clara out of bed that morning, and dragged her to the breakfast lounge in one piece.

"Ugh!" Clara cringed at the loud screeching sound of both the chair and Mae's happy voice.

"She's feeling a bit…under the weather." Angie pointed at a very rough looking Clara, whose hair was a mess, her face clear of any kind of make-up and her head spinning like she was on a Ferris wheel on steroids.

"Under the weather? Or on top of that bottle?" Mae laughed. She knew Clara well enough to know when she was hungover after a night out.

"I should be offended to not have been invited. Then again, I crashed in my clothes, as soon as I entered the hotel room, so…" Mae shrugged.

Mae loved nights out with Clara. That woman was insane! And yet, last night was not a night Mae would have opted to go out at.

"What's up, everyone?" Kevin walked in and made even more noise than Mae, sending Clara into panic.

She simply stood up and walked out to the patio, in need of some fresh air.

Angie followed, with two cups of coffee, one in each hand.

"Here…" She offered with a smile.

"Thanks." Clara's voice was hoarse and it almost made her sound even sexier than usual.

Clara opened her mouth to say something, but Angie was quicker.

"No, I'm not going to tell them about your macho man." She smirked, nudging Clara softly.

"Okay." Clara took a sip of her coffee, impatient for its effect to start working on her.

"Hey, you don't have to be ashamed. Come on now. We're in Cuba. Who wouldn't pick herself a hot local guy to have some lighthearted fun with? I mean, I'm endlessly grateful that you did not decide to bring him back home and kick me out…" Angie rolled her eyes. She had already built a back-up plan last night, in case that happened. She would have gone to Mae's room and she would have begged for her to open the door and let her sleep on the couch.

"Why are you such an awesome kid?" Clara laughed.

"I've been brought up right, I guess." Angie's hand rose up, pushing a strand of hair off of Clara's face in a gesture that was almost…loving.

"Why haven't you always been in my life?" Still feeling half-drunk, Clara poured her heart out.

"Life had different choices for me…I guess." Angie's soft smile turned into a pout.

So many things were running through her mind at that moment. The fact that she ended both of her statements with _'I guess'_ showed how confused she was about whatever it was that had happened to her in the past.

"Come here, sweetheart." Clara opened her hands and invited Angie in for a hug.

She did not hesitate.

"You are amazing. Never forget that. You are strong and you are going to do great things in life, Angela Hunter." Clara whispered and Angie heard her voice crack three times. If she were looking at her face at that moment, she would have seen the tears, threatening to fall down her precious face. But she _felt_ it, nonetheless.

"Ah, so she knows my name, huh!?" Angie teased, not wanting to let Clara cry. Instead, she made her laugh.

"You cheeky little one." Clara tickled Angie, sending her into a giggling spree.

"Thank you…" Angie whispered when she was able to finally catch her breath. She hated being tickled.

"For what?" Clara knew. Yet, she wanted to feel the pleasure of hearing it straight from Angie's mouth.

"For being there for me…when I needed." This time, it was Angie's voice that cracked a little.

"I'll do _anything_ for you, kid." Clara smiled, a feeling of something unfamiliar creeping into her.

"And thanks for the lip-gloss, too." Angie added before they heard Garrett calling out for them from afar.

They joined the team for an abundant breakfast, during which Clara made sure she re-filled her coffee cup three times and that she had enough sugar into her system now, to last her a week. After that, she was ready to work…and a little bit less hungover.

A bottle of water was Clara's best friend for the rest of the day, never leaving her side. The team worked on a few possible ways this UnSub might be operating, and they narrowed it down to two motives. Half the team was convinced about one of those, while the other half was defending their own idea that the second motive was what has driven the UnSub to kill.

Being divided in their assumptions made it hard for them to work together. Garrett did not like his team working on two theories contemporarily, so he gave everyone an hour, in order to gain sustainable evidence and to convince the others that their theory was the right one.

Clara and Angie were on the same page, while Mae and Kevin stuck with the other option. Both duos went in different ways, hurrying to prove their point.

An hour later, they presented their case to Garrett and he just listened, without commenting.

Mae and Kevin spoke first and their opponents could not deny the validity of their arguments. However, they were looking at it the wrong way.

"…and I'm fairly confident in my theory. I'm a profiler, after all." Angie ended off her part of the presentation, earning herself a scoff from Jack.

"I mean, I _will_ be…when I graduate the Academy. If I do. Which, I will. So, yeah. Okay…" She said lamely, trying to sound a bit more humble this time.

"Well, now that you've explained it further…" Mae had to admit it, everything they said made more sense than her own theory.

"Great, so we're going with Agent Seger's theory." Garrett quickly put an end to their disagreement, making sure the rest of the day would go on smoothly.

As soon as Garrett was out of sight, Angie jumped at her chance to whine.

"Agent Seger's theory…blah!"

"Oh, is someone jealous?" Clara was surprised. Angela was not the type to whine.

"I mean, a little credit, no? I came up with, like, most of the theory! I built the profile. And it's your name out there, getting praised."

"Come on. He's just doing that to shake you up a little bit. Don't fall for it. Just do you, show him what you're capable of. I'm sure you'll get the praise you deserve, when this is all over. I'm not going to lie, both Garrett and I have been asked to submit a report on your and Kevin's performance during this case, when we drop you back off at the Academy. So, let's make sure there's less whining, more working, so that both of your evaluations would be as amazing as I know they should be. Okay?" Clara spoke softly and Angie could not deny that everything that woman just said, was very much valid points.

"Yeah. I'm just…"

"Not used to working with other people?" Clara smirked. She knew what Angie's problem was. "Listen, you'll have to learn to adapt to team work, if you want to be part of the FBI. And you need to prepare for years of people, stepping all over you, on their way up. You won't get the praise you deserve for a long time and that would help build your character. And then, one day, you'll realize that all of your hard work has finally paid off and they make you the Unit Chief." Clara had gone on a little rant.

"Huh?" Angie looked at her with confusion.

"Sorry, I might have mixed my motivational speech to you with some personal experience with that one really good friend of mine who would always doubt herself and then she made it to Unit Chief and she's thriving, even under the constant pressure people are still putting her through. And I have no doubt you would be just like her – fierce, consistent, brave and, God bless you, but you two are equally as stubborn." Clara's last few words sent her into a laughing spree.

Angie pining for that profiling job reminded Clara of the past, when Emily Prentiss had invited her for drinks late one night and had told her, out of the blue, that she was going to be a profiler. It had come out of nowhere, but years down the road, that woman was making history and Clara could not be any more proud of her friend.

* * *

_"Hello, Agent Seger. I realize this is very unprofessional of me, but I really wanted to get in touch with Angela and I found your phone number on the papers you gave us during your first class, so I though I'd give this a try. Hope this does not come off creepy. We just miss our friend and we wanted to send her some happy vibes to help her do…whatever it is that you guys are doing. Good luck to everyone. Bryan."_

Clara laughed out loud when she received an incoming message notification and _that_ is what it read.

It was way past midnight now and the IRS has had a long day at work, visiting different locations and talking to a lot of people. Everyone was exhausted. Angie was currently taking a shower and Clara was sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting in line for a shower.

"You drunk again or something?" Angie questioned, walking out of the bathroom and finding Clara, chuckling in the dark.

With one hand, she gestured for Angie to go sit next to her before she showed her the message and the photo attached to it.

"Awwh!" Angie squealed like a newborn puppy.

She could not take Bryan's cuteness. The photo was of him, Amanda, Jack and even Dan, giving her two thumbs up, grinning at the camera. It warmed that tiny little Devil heart of hers.

"That guy is sooooo into you." Clara commented.

"Pff, I get it now." Angie rolled her eyes, disregarding Clara's statement.

"Get what?"

"Why you're single." Angie smirked, holding onto her towel. "You clearly know nothing about love."

"Touché…" Clara confirmed.

She figured she'd just own up to her bad luck. She wasn't the only one, actually. That was another reason why she loved hanging out with Emily Prentiss so much – they would often joke that they were both under some damning spell to never find love, as it seemed.

* * *

"Tea? Really? Since when?" Victor raised an eyebrow.

Richard had been a coffee kind of guy, ever since Victor had met him. The more caffeine, the better.

"Green tea. It has been proven to contain healthy bioactive compounds. It increases fat burning and the antioxidants may lower the risk of some cancers. Also, it may improve brain function; may protect the brain from aging; may help prevent type 2 diabetes and even cardiovascular disease." Richard stated.

"Dude, you are such a nerd!" Victor rolled his eyes.

Sometimes Richard would come out with little nerdy outbursts like this one, making him sound like a human Wikipedia.

"Alright, what's going on?" Victor asked, in serious tone this time.

"Nothing. Green tea helps you relax and sleep better. Or sleep at all…" Richard said with a shrug.

They were now in a restaurant during their lunch break. Both had ordered and enjoyed their favorite food on the menu before they decided to indulge in some desert and a drink to keep them going for the rest of the day. They had an important decision to make at work and they had to be on top of their game.

"Ha, like you have any troubles sleeping! Come on, man. You're knocked out, as soon as your head hits the pillow." Victor knew him well.

With all the pressure Richard faced on a daily basis, on the job, it was safe to say he never had troubles falling asleep.

"Not the case lately…" Richard admitted shyly.

"Oh?" Victor suddenly realized something. "I bet I can put a name to the source of that discomfort…"

"Don't be smug about it, alright?" Richard felt a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm not being smug, man. Just trying to understand why _you_, out of all people, would be having troubles sleeping."

"There's this stupid feeling in my stomach…I just can't shake it. I can't close my eyes for hours." Richard almost whispered, as if he didn't want anyone to hear him say something like that.

"The butterflies?" Victor smirked, letting out a laugh.

"Shut up!" Richard scoffed. It wasn't funny.

"Oh man, she got you good this time." Victor kept on smirking and it annoyed Richard beyond belief.

"It will go away, okay? It's just a phase…"

"Yeah? Did you Google that?" Victor was enjoying this. He loved pushing Richard's buttons.

"As a matter of fact, I did! It said it's temporary!" Richard said defensively. He wasn't one to Google symptoms, but he liked what he had read.

"Yeah, it only lasts for as long as you live and breathe. Don't worry, after that it won't even matter." Victor leaned against the table, not afraid of Richard at that moment.

At any other given time, Richard would have either punched him jokingly, or thrown whatever object he had near him, at Victor. But when he was in public, he was the definition of calm and peaceful. He was an incredibly well-mannered man. In public, that is.

"Dude, stalk her ass and contact her!" Victor urged him. It was the only thing that made sense.

"No, Vic. After what I did to her, I don't have the right to do that. She has a life, a job, her friends. I owe it to her to give her the time and space to make her own decisions, when it comes to me. Or to the version of me that she thinks I am, anyway…And then things are going to get even more complicated…"

"Hey, hey? Don't be quick to jump to conclusions, okay? She's an incredibly smart woman. If she ever reaches out, she is surely going to give you a chance to explain everything. She won't throw her life away, her _pride_ away, only to then shoot you down. Lauren doesn't back down to a challenge, you know how she is…" Victor spoke calmly and he was making a lot of sense.

"Yeah, she's fierce. There's nothing Lauren can't overcome. She fights for what she wants and she defends what she believes in. Guess that's part of what made me…" He trailed off. No way was he going to finish that sentence.

"Made you _what_?" Victor tried to get those words out of Richard's mouth.

"You know what."

"Oh, come on. Give me the satisfaction of hearing you say it!" Victor frowned.

Richard was way too headstrong. He would never admit it out loud.

"Eat your financiers." Richard pointed at the tiny French almond cakes that accompanied Victor's order of a double espresso.

"You sound like such a dad." Victor laughed. He remembered a time when Richard had been stern like that, with someone else.

"Don't even try to make me feel even worse by hinting at…_that_." Richard sighed in annoyance. He was regretting his decision to get out of the office for lunch break. He could have been peacefully surrounded by millions of e-mails and papers to sign, right about now and he would have preferred it that way.

"Okay then, back to Lauren. How long do you think you should wait for her before you move on?" Victor's change of topic was not for the better, but at least it wasn't making Richard think of something else from his past.

"I'll _never_ move on. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm always going to be in love with that woman." Richard concluded and that was all that Victor wanted to hear him say.

Admitting it was the first step. Victor had known all along, but he needed Richard to hear himself say those words out loud. It was therapeutic. Maybe the relief from speaking the truth would give him some peace of mind that night, maybe he would actually be able to fall asleep now.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"Natasha36"** Yes, Ben is the Assistant Director, so pretty high up on the ladder. Angie can make anyone have a good time, lol, she sure loves to party! Kind of like Clara, actually, they're similar in this. And what you said makes perfect sense: they do work together, both professionally and personally.

**"rmpcmfan"** Yes, there's a weird "understanding" between Angie and Clara. Definitely NOT the way Angie would act around other Agents! Hehe Clara adores Emily, I love seeing such a strong female friendship, so I'm building on it, in my story!

Don't you dare forget Ben, hehe, he will appear throughout the story, with his words of wisdom for Ems. And the part where the BAU voted anonymously for Emily is MY personal spin on what happened on the show. I kind of always imagined it would be cool if they ALL wanted HER! Yes, the BAU are amazing, I love seeing a team that works as well as they do, both on the job and as friends in their personal lives. The show did a great job showcasing just that, which is what caught my attention as a viewer...and also the fact that I'm very interested in Criminology :)

I feel for Richard too. I really wanna give him a hug..or a kiss, or five. LOL! Now, remember right now all he's supposed to know is that her name is Lauren, with no idea how to contact her. Also, he literally **dumped her ass** lol, so he knows he has no right to reach out, even if he had her contacts. It is entirely up to Emily to make the move and he respects that, while sulking in his misery. Maybe, just maybe, *wink* it will be worth the wait and definitely, oh definitely it would have been a good decision to wait!

**"zhangxinna"** Hehe, nope, someone else needs to step forward and talk to Emily about Richard/her moodiness lately. And GOOD it's good that you're thinking/analyzing things! Don't stop! I want this story to be a "detective" kind of a piece, where I give clues (and I've given many!) as to what the heck is going on, who is who, and the readers try to figure it all out. As a reader, that's what I'm drawn to, so as a "writer" that's what naturally comes out in all of my stories. That's also why I greatly appreciate this two-way feedback with my readers! It is so fun to hear what you guys think and I am super grateful to those ones who drop me a line after reading a chapter :)! And hmm, you may have caught a good clue, detective...Why was Angie so pissed at _that_ comment? Hmm...Maybe Clara brushed on a touchy topic, for Angie. Maybe there is more. You'll find out, there are more clues to come! And OMG Richard, uhhh, poor little French pastry of mine, I really like the guy and I fully understand he is a made up character hahaha!


	76. Did You Just Set Up A Date With My Son?

** CHAPTER 76**

_**DID YOU JUST SET UP A DATE WITH MY SON?**_

"Hi, Emmey." A sweet voice came from the other side of the line, as soon as Emily answered a call that was coming from Will's phone.

"Good afternoon, handsome." She greeted her favorite little human creature. "To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your beautiful voice today?"

Henry stopped for a moment. Did she always have to sound so grown-up?

Emily chuckled. She had spent the majority of her Friday morning going over some paperwork she had to catch up on or review, and she had just come back to the office after having lunch with the team.

"Daddy just got me from school. We are going to get dessert, but don't tell mommy, okay?" Henry was too cute when he asked Emily to keep his innocent little secrets.

"Hmm, I don't know, buddy. I'm not too good at keeping things from your mommy. She's too smart. She'll figure it out." Emily wanted to give him a hard time, because lying was a bad thing, or at least that was what she liked to teach kids. Whether she took her own advice was at question.

"Okay, then let me tell her about it myself. Don't put yourself off the line for me!" He requested and the little mistake he did with his words made Emily smile.

"Okay, I won't put myself _on_ the line." She emphasized on the right preposition, knowing he was smart enough to figure out his mistake without her pointing it out as an error and potentially embarrassing him.

"Uhm…" Henry was then suddenly at the loss of words.

"Come on. You wanted to be a big boy. You can do this yourself!" Emily heard Will's voice close to the phone and figured out that Henry must have frozen and was now handing the phone to his daddy, to take care of the mess.

"Well, if that's how it's going to be be…" Henry whimpered before bringing the phone close to his ear again.

"Emmey, you should know that I am now free for our Friday night plans." He stated, all seriousness in his voice.

Emily almost burst out in laughter.

"Oh? What about Katie?"

"I let her down, but gently, because daddy told me so. She did cry, though, but I don't think it was my fault." Henry spoke while munching on something. Emily could hear the crackling noise of what sounded like an apple. He did not sound one bit upset over his ruined dinner date plans with a girl his age. Not when that meant having dinner date plans with Emily instead.

"But, why? It sounded like you like this Katie girl. You were so excited just yesterday…" Emily was not naïve to think she was the only reason for this date to have been ruined.

"Okay, fine. Katie wears pink, like the girls who cry all the time. So, I don't think I like her anymore. But I like _you_, because you are tough and you do good things for people and you never cry. You also always take care of my mommy, so I never have to worry about her when she goes to work."

Emily stood up from the chair in the bullpen, where she had been discussing something with Tara and Luke, and she walked over to the coffee corner, very subtly sweeping a tear off her cheek. Yeah sure, she wished she was strong enough to never cry.

"Oh, Henry…" She whispered. "I'll tell you something. How about you ask daddy if he can drop you off here later today."

"But, does that mean I can stay with you tonight and we can watch TV and you will play with my dinosaur collection and make those funny faces?" He asked, full of hope.

Emily Prentiss was the Queen of funny faces and he knew it. Henry had never met someone else who could pull off a weird face with the grace of Emily Prentiss. He was sure that person did not exist. She was the best at faces, as much as she wanted to look poised while at work, she could not fool him. And he wanted was for her to send him into another giggling spree while acting like a zombie or a dragon – those were his favorite incarnations of her.

"All of that and much more, my precious little sweetheart." Emily promised and this was a promise she fully intended on keeping.

"Okay, we'll be there in an hour!" Henry announced and he thought he had hung up, but Emily could hear his next words to his dad. _"That was easy! I told you she would say 'yes'."_

After hearing his dad tell him that he had left her no other choice, Emily hung up, giving the two boys some privacy to have a conversation.

"Uhm, excuse me? Did you just set up a date with my son?" JJ appeared from behind Emily, having overheard the conversation from the point where her son's name was mentioned, forward.

"He insisted!" Emily put her hands in the air, in mock surrender.

"Oh yeah, very classy, Emily Prentiss! Blame it on a ten year old!" JJ said dramatically, followed by laughter, because this was the funniest thing.

"He canceled his date with Katie, for me. How cute!" Emily put a hand to her heart. "Why isn't he, like…thirty years older?"

"Prentiss!" JJ cringed.

"I am clearly joking. Relax." She exhaled. "Wow, I can't believe he's about to turn eleven in November. It's like it was just yesterday when you gave birth. God, you were so freaked out."

"That's because you've always been in my life, Emily." JJ smiled before she addressed her last statement. "If you had been giving birth, you'd be freaked out, too. It's a scary experience."

JJ then shut her eyes, wanting nothing more than to hit herself in the forehead. This was such a low blow for Emily.

Emily gulped, her mood instantly dropping. She excused herself, under the pretense that she had a lot of files to review by the end of the day. Truth was – she had already filed them. All she needed was some quiet now.

JJ walked away, feeling like a douchebag. Sometimes she had no filter between her mouth and her brain. She knew better than anyone else, that children – or the lack there of; were an extremely touchy topic for Emily. And as of recently, she had brought up a stupid comment about that, twice.

* * *

"You're not doing it!" Clara argued.

"Yes, I am!" Angie hissed back at her.

"No, young lady, you most definitely are not!" Clara's foot stomped on the ground, but it did not make Angie's facial expression look any softer. If anything, it aggravated her further.

"Doing what?" Garrett walked in on the argument that was happening in the middle of the tiny room that was at their disposal, at the police station.

"I fit in with victimology – young, brunette, beautiful, slim. I want to go undercover and meet the UnSub." Angie stated, noticing how Clara made subtle gestures to Jack to not agree with that horrendous plan.

"Ok." Jack said nonchalantly.

"Okay!?" Clara lost it. Screw subtle hints. She was about to go bananas on her boss. Again.

"Yes, I said ok." He knew he was getting on Clara's last nerve, so he dived into the glory of seeing her struggle with his decision. Ultimately, it was _his_ decision what the team would do, anyway.

"Unless you don't believe that the one person you chose, out of 250 people, is not worth the shot? In that case, this would speak very poorly of your abilities to judge people and I would be extremely disappointed to have such a person on my team…" He pushed it even further, seeing fumes coming out of Clara's ears.

"I do believe in her-…" She started, but got cut off instantly.

"Ok, then it's settled. Hunter is going undercover." Jack acted so composed, it made Clara want to jump on him and strangle him.

He then walked out of the room, as he had only walked in to grab a folder before he needed to go somewhere else.

"You better not die!" He whispered to Angie, as he walked past her, on his way to the door.

"Some pep talk…" Angie rolled her eyes.

* * *

"Spencey!" Henry squealed, throwing himself at his favorite profiler.

He had big plans for the future – surviving high-school, off to college, then being Reid's assistant forever. This, at his age, sounded like the best job in the world.

"What about mommy?" JJ frowned, watching her child nearly knock her over, on his way to Spencer.

"Yeah, forget about mommy." She added with a sigh, walking upstairs to Emily's office for some advice, finding it empty.

She shot Emily a text, to which she did not reply.

"She better not have cold feet." JJ chuckled. "Eww, what am I even saying?"

JJ loved sending Henry to spend the night with either one of her colleagues. It meant more alone time with Will, but most of all, it meant that Henry had an opportunity to socialize and to open up. Recently, his feedback from school pointed at him being more and more silent, distancing himself from his friends.

"Oh, hi mom." Henry greeted quickly, now running to Garcia's office, his tiny fists bumping against the locked door.

"You better get all the hugs and kisses from Mickey, while you still can." Rossi commented, startling JJ.

"I don't even know when it happened. It's as if it was yesterday he was giving me soggy kisses and now he's all…" JJ looked at Henry with sad eyes. He was still trying to get Garcia's attention, not knowing that she was currently blasting music on her earphones and having a full on jam session, pretending to be working on something.

"Grown up?" Rossi smiled, somewhat sadly. "JJ, at least you had the chance to watch your kids grow up."

JJ frowned, realizing that Rossi never had that privilege. It must have sucked to start being a father when the child was already twenty-six, which had been the case with Joy – his daughter from his second marriage.

"I screwed up…" She fessed up. "With Emily, earlier. I made a comment about giving birth and it upset her. I'm an idiot!"

He could not do anything else, but to give her a small hug. Emily had shared certain things with him, and he wasn't sure up to what extent she had opened up to JJ about it all. So, his best option was to keep his thoughts to himself and to feel every bit of pain that Emily must be feeling, when it came to losing a child. Unfortunately, he also knew a few things about this kind of pain. If he was brave enough, he'd one day open up to Emily about it. Who knows? Maybe it would give her some peace, after all those years.

* * *

Angie was now ready and propped up, dressed down, with her hair wildly sticking out and looking like a mess. She got dropped off at the second location, where the latest two victims had lived at.

Clara had calculated the chances of the UnSub sticking to a routine. If he took three girls from the previous housing complex, he might return to take a third girl from the second location, as well.

Angie hung out with a few of the local youngsters in the courtyard, playing cards and skipping a rope while listening to Cuban reggaeton, just bending in, as if she was a local too.

Jack had insisted on surveilling the operation, so he, along with the team, was now inside one of the empty apartments in the building, watching Angie from the side of the window, pushing the curtains away just a tiny little bit, so he could have a good view of the yard.

"She's holding up fine." He commented, knowing that Clara would be stuck, right behind him, making sure her asset was safe.

"Why do you give her so much crap?" Clara's asked in soft voice.

Mae and Kevin were now discussing something, sitting on the couch. It wasn't possible for more than one person to stand by the tiny window without making it suspicious.

"I do not-…" He tried to lie, but Clara cut him off immediately.

"Yes, you do! You've been nothing but rude to her since I brought her in. You neglect Kevin altogether, but you go out of your way to be extra nasty when you speak to Angela. And since she is _my_ asset, I deserve an answer."

"It's not _her_…"

"Oh, yeah?" He was once again cut off by Clara.

"It's _you_!" He spoke over her voice, finally grabbing her attention.

"Young, brunette, stunningly beautiful, full of hopes, new to the job and so damn stubborn…" As he trailed off, Clara finally started to warm up to what he was trying to say.

"Come on, Seger. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out." Jack shot Clara a glance before he looked back to where Angie was.

Clara shifted uncomfortably.

"If anything happens to this kid, it would make me re-live all those times when _you_ got hurt when you first came to my team – young and talented, but so not ready to keep getting your ass kicked by men, twice your bodyweight. I've spent endless hours in the ER, bribing medical staff for information on your condition. I've gone nights, unable to sleep, wondering if what had just happened to you would push you over the edge. Would you quit the FBI? Would you harm yourself? I've witnessed a lot happening to you and…"

He kept his eyes on Angie, seeing nothing but a young version of Clara instead.

"And, I guess, having the kid here is just a reminder that this is a vicious circle of pain, a painful journey she is now embarking on." He added.

"She's smart and capable. Just give her a chance to prove herself to you. Yes, she's definitely ending up in a hospital, with that attitude of hers and that smug smirk. But this is the life she has chosen for herself and she is working extremely hard to show everyone that she is not the bubblehead idiot that she intentionally makes you believe she is, at first sight. Come on, Jack. Cut her some slack."

"Wait. Where did she go?" Jack panicked.

He had allowed himself to look at Clara once again, for a few minutes, after which he was unable to spot Angie anywhere in the courtyard.

Clara looked out the window, failing to identify her in the mass of young people hanging out.

"Status check?" Clara requested on the line.

Angie was wearing an earpiece and was able to communicate with them, if she turned it on, which apparently she had not.

"Angela?" Clara said desperately before kicking a chair, watching it land a few feet away.

"Yo, what's happening?" Mae jumped up from the sofa, scared for her life. And Angela's life, as well.

"She's gone." Clara tried to take a deep breath. "Her IFB earpiece is not active."

"She might be on her way back to the room to use the toilet. Relax." Jack tried to calm Clara down.

Usually, Clara was very calm and collected at work. But, for some reason, she was acting a mess at that moment.

"She's not an idiot to risk an operation. She'd hold it in!" Clara hissed at him. "It's all _your_ fault. You let her do this!"

"Jesus, didn't you just _beg_ me to give her the freedom to prove herself?" He rolled his eyes and put his hands on Clara's shoulders, forcing her to stop shaking and to look at him.

"Hey? If she's _anything_ like you, she'll be just fine." His words were exactly what Clara needed to hear, so she'd refrain herself from fainting.

* * *

"Jesus, would it hurt you to act a little more alive?" Victor scolded his best friend.

They were attending a very sophisticated party, with some very influential people. And Richard looked miserable.

"I hate politics." Richard replied.

This whole evening was about politics, about who is who, who knows whom and who slept with whom. It disgusted him, it was not a world he fit in, but sadly it was a world he _had_ to live in.

"Bonsoir, it is good to see you, Mr-…"

"Richard. It's just Richard, please." He interrupted a man who was approaching him with some overly dramatic greeting.

"Oh, yes. I keep forgetting you are playing the relatable one." The other man said.

"I'm not playing anything. This is who I am and my name is Richard." He said, taking offense.

He should be used to it by now, people had a habit of calling him out, thinking that his good behavior was an act. It was getting old to always have to defend his words and actions. He loved his job, but he hated everything it came with – all the lies and the deceit. Yes, he was really good at it all, that was part of the reason why he had gotten the promotion, but this…politics, fakeness, lies, luxury…this was not his world. And it sucked having to live in it, on his own, too.

"What do you want?" He came out and asked.

For the fifteen long minutes he had been at the party, three different people had tried to bribe him to do something for them. It was annoying.

"Well, I have been working on something and I would really like it if your…ehm, you and your people back us up on it." The other man – old, with grey hair, definitely one of the big sharks; requested.

"No. Now have a good evening, Sir." Richard cut him off and walked away. He wasn't interested in another high level conspiracy theory that might turn into a scandal.

"What are you doing!? He plays poker on Tuesdays with the Mayor!" Victor scolded Richard once again.

"And you're forgetting whose friend the Mayor is, Vic." Richard smirked.

The man he had just spoken to was important, but Richard had all the big sharks, the important people, in his corner. He was not afraid of anything and anyone.

"I need to get some fresh air." Richard stated, leaving his champagne glass on one of the nearby tables.

"Yeah sure. Go hide. Leave me to deal with…those…" Victor sighed, pointing at the room, full of people who would stab anyone's back, at any given time.

Richard walked to a more secluded area. He was familiar with this hotel, so he knew his way around. Two minutes later he pushed a door and found himself in a small and hidden garden area.

He exhaled with relief, now only able to hear the faint sounds of the live music, playing in the ballroom, but most importantly – unable to hear all the chatter.

"And so, fate reunites us again…" A female voice startled him.

He turned around and a gorgeous woman, visibly younger than him, walked out to the same garden.

"I don't think it counts as fate when you stalk someone." He rolled his eyes, knowing perfectly well what he was going to be hit with.

"I admit, I may have followed you here." She chuckled and it was the most obnoxious sound he had ever heard.

Lauren sounded much more soft, when she chuckled, as he remembered.

"Now, how convenient is it that I have a room, just a few floors up?" This woman was wasting no time. She was on a mission.

"Look, I'm not interested." Richard said right away.

"That's not what you were saying in between pants, the last time we met." She allowed herself to get closer to him, placing one hand on his chest as if she owned him.

He grabbed her hand, careful not to be too rough. God forbid that crazy bitch would file some kind of a complaint against him.

"I said No!" He repeated sternly.

It only made her other hand trail down his chest, resting comfortably in a place it shouldn't be touching.

"I see. You like to play rough. I'm into that, too." She whispered, her face inches away from his.

Her breath smelled like a mixture of alcohol and desperation. Lauren had been completely different, even at that moment when they had first spoken at the park, when she was completely drunk. She had been poised and well-mannered. And she smelled so good.

"I can see you are a little…hmm, tense…" She kept on whispering, her voice a little more gentle now, more seductive.

That damn hand was still there, too.

"I'm never going to sleep with you. Drop it and go back to the party." He said, grabbing her other hand as well, hoping that nobody would be watching them. That would look like he was being rough, now holding both of her hands, as if she was his hostage.

"You liked it last time. I can make your night a lot more fun." She leaned in and tried to steal a kiss.

"I can't believe I ever slept with you, in the first place. Have a good evening." He said calmly, letting go of her and walking back to the party.

He'd rather have to deal with fifty of France's most influential people, than with one overly desperate woman. Blonde, to top it all! What was he thinking back in the day? She was the complete exact opposite of the kind of woman he felt attracted to.

She was the complete opposite of Lauren.

Going up the stairs one more time, he rolled his eyes. How fortunate for him to have the job of his dreams and to work side by side with his best friend, and yet, how unfortunate for him that this job came at such a cost.

"I need to leave!" He stated once he found Victor, socializing with someone.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow at the office then." Victor said with a smile.

Something about the look that Richard gave him then made Victor worried enough to follow him to the valet parking outside.

"You didn't mean leave _the party_, did you?" Victor called out, the moment that Richard was getting into his car.

"I need some time, Vic. I need to clear my head. I need to be alone."

"No. You need to be with _her_. So, please tell me you have a plan." Victor said softly, sitting in the passenger's seat so they could have a conversation in private. The valet at the hotel was hardly some spy, but you never know and it is never a bad idea to be careful. Especially for the two of them.

"I do have a plan. I'm waiting for her to decide what she wants in her life. And until then, I'm just going to disappear for a little bit."

"Richard, bad things happen when you disappear." Victor reminded him, thinking of the last stunt Richard had pulled, a while ago.

"Well, I'm nice enough to let you know beforehand now, alright? Don't make me regret it. And don't try to find me, you already know I can't be found, if I don't want to be found." Richard was being irrational. It was barely the time and place to make such a huge decision about his life.

"Can we at least plan this? We can make it seem like you've-…"

"No, I don't want to be 'kidnapped' or 'killed off' again. I just need to lay low. Give me a couple of days, okay? People won't even notice." Richard argued.

"Dude, you won't be okay in the matter of days. Quite frankly, I don't know if you ever will be okay again. And no, I do not agree with your decision to disappear. However, I know I can't change your mind. Will you at least agree to stay in touch with me? Please? I need to know you're okay."

"Vic, I won't do anything stupid."

"That's what you said last time. Need I remind you where I had to go get your barely alive ass from, a month later?"

"Victor, I'm not that guy anymore. I'm fine. I really just need time and space. This whole scene, the politics…it's suffocating me. I want to go somewhere, enjoy a glass of wine, read a nice book and walk around the house barefoot. I need to wake up and feel grateful that I am alive."

"Please, keep in touch! This is all I'm asking of you! I will keep your secret and I'll do your job for as long as you need, just please, I am begging you, reach out every now and then, okay?"

"Okay fine. And thank you. I know I can always trust you." Richard smiled and felt a wave of relief.

Victor got out of the car and walked in direction of the hotel entrance again.

Richard drove away, already planning his little get away. He wanted to go somewhere near the beach, somewhere small and quiet. He knew the perfect place.

Without going back to his home, he drove in direction of the highway. It would take him a few hours to get to where he wanted to be, but he knew he wouldn't want to waste another minute. It would all be worth it, or at least he hoped it would.

Nothing was ever as it seemed with Richard and Victor. They had a weird way of communicating, without saying the thing that they were _actually_ saying. It was their own language, full of nonverbal clues and metaphors, of small key words, thrown into a different context, so that nobody would be able to follow their real conversation. On the outside, they could look like they were discussing a rainy day at the beach, but it could really be a conversation about espionage and some intricate plan that was being concocted at the moment. People were often confused with the things those two said to each other, and even more often astonished to learn what was _really_ being said, underneath a coat of what seemed like random words.

"This is going to be awesome!" Richard muttered to himself, keeping an eye out on the road.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"Natasha36" **Thanks! And correct, Emily still doesn't even realize it (since she's never felt this way before), but JJ understood immediately! I can _**promise**_ you, the day Emily Prentiss uses Richard's contact information, it will NOT be a random half-assed "Hi, how are you?" kind of a dumb text situation, LOL! Prepare for Emily to do Un-Emily-like things :)! And awwh, Richard is so into her that (trust me!) it wouldn't matter who the heck she is. As for Victor...it's not confusing, actually...Good work, Detective ;) Keep the investigation going!**  
**

**"rmpcmfan"** Hmm, nope. Butterflies - they symbolize something other than a pregnancy :P (Although I would honestly _love_ to see Emily FINALLY get the biological child she's always wanted!) Something else will push her towards the man of her dreams, stay tuned. Emily still needs to get over certain things (which are the next story arc that starts right after these BAU and IRS cases close). I replied your Angie-related guesses via Inbox ;)! But Angie hints are everywhere, especially from now on. I think the readers (IF they figure it out!) will know the truth before any story character does. It's not about the TRUTH, it's about the behind the scenes of WHY all the trouble of hiding and denying it. I promise, one day all the mystery and little slip ups WILL make sense :)!

**"Spooladio"** Thanks, I envision her as smart, but **not** a genius; strong, but **not** flawless; with a good heart and absolutely insane brain when it comes to acting in social situations, LOL! She'd probably twerk her way out of jail, that's how spontaneous and weird I see her (and I try to portray her). And she has NO FILTER between her brain and her mouth...she's a big child - always saying it as it is, the rough unfiltered truth (unless she's lying intentionally, for her gain). LOL she's complicated, okay? Haha, it will be explained later. And yes, Ben owes Emily big time, from their earlier days on the job. He respects the crap out of her and he sees how hard she works! But, will the Director be a fan of hers? Hmm, you'll see in future chapters! Also, you do realize that a while ago Angie told BEN all the things that are wrong with the Academy and told him how bored she was? LOL. That's why he later said "I wanna know if she'd have the balls to speak to me that way, if she knew who I really am." Basically, nobody is what/who they seem to be, in my story, okay? :) Hehe! I love me an intricate mystery!

Hmm, you mean the BAU is too invasive on TV or in the story? I'm afraid to ask lol. I intentionally make everyone be up in everyone else's business, lol I enjoy them pushing each other's buttons and being nosy :P

No, I'm not familiar with those novels you mentioned. You find Angie similar to a character from them? Let me know more, I'm intrigued! However, Angie is not based on anyone in particular. I'm basing some of her characteristics on me - she loves singing and dancing and she speaks...languages. And she's super bubbly and random. And loves guns. And Criminology.

Spooladio, I've sent you a private msg reply a week ago, check your inbox :)!

**"Ducksdragonfly"** You are so kind! Well, I am isolated in an apartment, on my own, for two months now. I had no bread for over a week, because my supermarket was out...and I'm not allowed to leave my house without a signed permit with date stamps and specific routes for where I'm going and why, a mask and gloves. It's wild out here and I'm facing it all alone (don't get me started on paying my rent while not working and not getting paid a dime...) So, writing is what keeps me entertained and I really appreciate everyone's feedback, it's like some sort of a social interaction that makes me smile :)! I'm already writing Chapter 135, btw, so don't worry, there is a lot for you to look forward to! And thank you SO INCREDIBLY MUCH for what you said about my writing! As a non native English speaker, I do my best to not only put direct speech and be done with a scene, but to **describe** where the people are, what they do, how they feel, what they see, what the room smells like, what it reminds them of. (I also like putting a dramatic/emotional effect to things hehe) So, it is really nice that you are pointing that out, in a positive light! :) PS: Angie would be the one hanging upside down, from the monkey bars...or twerking in a split on top of the bar, lol, or the one looking for freebies like coffee and cookies.

PSS: Stay safe as well, okay? And if it makes you feel any better, you can always msg me. I'm happy to receive a msg, especially right now.


	77. About To Check That One More Time

** CHAPTER 77**

_**ABOUT TO CHECK THAT ONE MORE TIME**_

"Emily?" Henry called out from the living room.

"Oh, so you _do_ know how to pronounce my name correctly?" He was so busted.

He always called her something that sounded like Eh-mey, which if she had to put down in letters would look like Emmey.

Then again, this came from the mouth of the child, whose mother Emily continuously called ChayChay, so she had no right to object. Nor did she want to. Henry was the cutest when he said her name like that, it was their own little thing. Mickey called her "Emi-yiii". Kids just had their weird ways of connecting with her, unlike adults.

"Yes, but I like the way I pronounced your name when I was a child." He confessed.

"Mhm, you grown up young man." She walked over to him, messing with his hair a little bit.

"Now that you're here. I do have a request. I'm hungry." He informed her.

"Yes, I was just starting to prepare something in the kitch-…"

"Can we go straight to ordering food online? I'm too hungry to go through all the steps."

"All the steps?" Emily asked, confused.

"You know, you cutting things veeery slowly, then you putting them in three different pots before you choose the right one, then heating up the oven and then waiting for them to burn, so that you could finally log in and get us pizza."

"You're lucky you're cute, young man!" Emily messed with his hair once again. She knew he hated that, but he deserved this much after he joined the club of passionate 'Let's offend Emily Prentiss' cooking skills' club members.

"Fine. Pizza it is." She gave up and ordered online, wondering exactly how bossy he would grow up to be if _that_ was how he spoke at the tender age of ten.

"Do you want to play with your dinosaur collection while we wait for the delivery?" She suggested, picking up his little overnight backpack.

"Mmh, no. I want to see what's in the bags you tried to hide in the trunk earlier."

"Henry! That was a surprise."

"Well, not anymore." He stood up, putting his jacket on.

Emily took him downstairs to the car and they brought two big bags, full of things, up to the apartment. Her idea had been to disappear for two minutes while Henry would watch something on TV, and then to surprise him with all the things she had bought him when she left work early, at the time when JJ was trying to get in touch with her. Emily had spent an hour at a kid's shop, trying to figure out what a 10 year old boy would like to play with, before she ended up buying one of almost every toy she saw.

"Woah!" Henry kicked his shoes off when they walked back in the apartment.

He knew that Emily hated it when people walked around the house with their shoes on. He was a guest and his mommy had taught him to respect the house rules of people who had invited him. Even though he had technically invited himself over this time.

He busied himself, playing a little bit with each and every single toy, before he made a pile of his favorites and a smaller pile of the ones he would surely be donating to some charity, if his little brother did not want them either.

JJ had taught her two kids to think of the less fortunate ones. Every year, they would collect a bag of their belongings that they no longer use, and donate them to other kids in need.

"Can we call mommy now?" He asked sweetly, seeing as there was only one hour left to his bedtime. He just assumed that this was the time his parents would also go to bed. How naïve of him.

"This better not be bad timing…" Emily whispered on the phone when JJ picked up.

"Oh, it would have been really bad timing, fifteen minutes ago." JJ chuckled.

They had a way of telling each other way too much information about their…private business.

"Well, I'm glad that's over and done with. God knows you needed some." Emily laughed, without a hint of a grudge to be held against JJ, for that statement of hers earlier that day.

"Done with? Girl, yeah. Check and check. And about to check that one more time." JJ said cheerfully.

"Ugh, seriously!? How do you even have the streng-…ugh, nevermind. I don't think I want to know."

"I can give you some pointers. Apparently, mommy still got game."

"Yup, I definitely do not want to know that." Emily could not stop laughing.

"I need to set you up on a date with some hot guy." JJ suggested.

"Please, don't! I still have nightmares about the last blind date you put me through."

"But, Em, you need someone to hold you, kiss you, mmmmhhhmmmm..." A muffled sound came out at the end and Emily laughed out loud, picturing Will, walking in on that conversation and forcefully placing his hand on JJ's mouth, preventing her from saying yet another inappropriate thing to her boss.

For a brief moment Emily allowed herself to think of _him_ – the man with the name of a pastry shop. This time it made her smile. Maybe she was healing?

"Excuse my wife. She's a bit…" Will grabbed JJ's phone, but not before JJ was able to hit loudspeaker.

"Worked up? Mhm, I know." Emily said teasingly.

"So, your son, a.k.a. the cutest blonde kid in the world, wanted to say goodnight to you." Emily then put her loudspeaker on, only after having warned JJ and Will about it. The kid did not need to hear anything explicit and JJ was known to have no filter when speaking to Emily.

"Hey. We are having a great time. Emmey has bought me toys and she's letting me play all I want. I am also allowed to watch TV, but there isn't anything interesting at the moment. She's drinking wine." He briefed it all up in a few sentences.

"Way to throw me under the bus, partner!" Emily faked disapproval while taking another sip of her wine.

"Enjoy your evening then. Both of you." JJ said, sending a loud kiss to her son over the phone.

"Goodnight." Will added.

"Goodnight mommy and daddy. Thank you for letting me stay here tonight."

"Oh, thank _you_ for-…" JJ's mouth once again got shut by Will before she could say what was on her mind.

"Ok, bye!" Emily put an end to this miserable phone call before she turned her attention back to Henry.

"Pizza!" He jumped up happily when he heard the doorbell.

Emily had bought five different bottles of juice, three of which she knew Henry liked, but she got the other two as well, just in case he was willing to try something new. Everyone knew that Emily was one to overcompensate. Always. And about everything. This clearly included the moments when she was around this kid.

More than an hour went by and Henry was still awake, enjoying his time with Emily. He had asked her so many things, about her job, about her life, about her friends outside of work. That last question had made her think about the fact that she did not have any friends outside of work.

"Are you sleepy?" She asked when she saw him rub his eyes for the second time. It was only 8:30 pm, but then again, he was just a child.

"I can resist." He stated calmly, not wanting to waste valuable 'Emmey time' if he admitted defeat.

* * *

"Where this Yankee bar is?" Angie's voice finally sounded from the other side of the line. She spoke bad English, with heavy Latina accent.

The team gathered by the table, Mae typing away on Clara's computer and soon coming up with an address for this bar she had mentioned.

"You have to trust me. You want to learn English well, right? Well, I'm going to teach you." A male voice could be heard as well.

"Southern accent. He's definitely American." Jack pointed out while waiting to hear more.

"Oh, this uhh called…in American how you say about this thing on the left our side?" Angie spoke, still keeping that Latina accent and pretending not to know English well.

"A lake." The guy replied, almost sounding soft.

"What name of lake?" Angie pushed it.

"Embalse niña bonita. Have you never seen it?" He questioned.

Angie had to pass for a local, yet she did not know the name of the biggest reservoir near Havana.

"I no live Havana. I live south on Cuba – Boca de galafre." She shrugged, shooting the name of the first small city she could think of, down south.

"Here it is." Mae turned the computer, so that everyone can see it. She had located the reservoir on the map.

"She mentioned South, and she also said she saw the lake on their left side. They're clearly going South on Autopista Este-Oeste." Clara summed it all up, pointing at the highway on the map.

"We need Monty, right now." Jack was amazed that nobody had called him yet. Why was Mae doing all the computer work? It was Monty's task.

"Uh, there is no service here. Not for international calls anyway." Mae said hesitantly.

She knew how pissed Jack could get if things did not go his way. And right now they were literally playing with the life of a four-week Trainee who looked as fragile as porcelain. Jack's whole career could go up in flames if anything happened to the girl he did not approve of, for this case, in the first place.

"Give her time. She'll communicate with us." Clara calmed him down.

"I need go pepee. There green land. Can I go?" Angie asked the guy, pointing at a secluded area around the highway, covered in trees.

"Is he taking her to his dumping ground?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"No, he hasn't even started playing with her. For him, it's not about the kill. It's about the game. He wants something from these girls, that's why he was bribing the families with expensive things." Clara sounded very sure of what she was saying.

"Then he must live near the place where the victims were discovered, because they are certainly moving in that direction." Mae pointed out.

"Angela, if you can hear me, cough once." Clara said, in hopes of initiating a two-way conversation with her asset.

The only thing she heard on the other side of the line was silence. There was some noise, as if Angie had cracked the window open as they were driving on the highway. But no cough.

"Angela?" Clara tried one more time, but she felt Jack's hand on top of hers, him urging her to drop it and to remain calm.

"Shouldn't we follow them?" Kevin finally had the courage to suggest something.

"No. We don't even know where she's going. If we're on the road, we won't have access to the internet and we will just end up getting lost and, possibly, lose her in the process. Her best chance at survival is to trust her own instincts and to keep on communicating with us, for as long as we have the line open, at least on her side." Jack nearly scolded the young guy.

"What instincts? We haven't even had our first undercover missions class at the Academy. She doesn't have a gun. And she wears a freaking bow in her hair." Kevin motioned with his left hand, touching his forehead to see if the wet feeling was from sweat or if his veins had finally busted and he was now covered in blood, because he sure felt like bleeding from all this pressure.

"Guys, she's not an idiot." Clara's voice was silent, almost as if she believed that saying it out loud may jinx something.

Five minutes later, they received another communication from her.

"What we will do?" Angie said innocently.

To the UnSub it looked like she was trying really hard to speak good English, but to her this was all just a game.

"I am going to introduce you to someone and you can start your lessons right away. She has already had a few classes, so you need to keep up."

"We arrive already?" Angie raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out how to explain her location to the team.

"Who is Corrales?" She read the name of the street, but there were no buildings on it. Except for one very old looking thing that resembled a chicken coop rather than a house.

"I dunno. You're Cuban, you should know." The guy said, getting out of the car.

"Ok, a door slammed. They've come to a stop. Mae, search for anything 'Corrales' in direction of where they were headed to." Clara commented, listening intently.

"Uh, there's a street with that name, but at some point they would have left the highway, like a few miles before that." Mae spoke.

"That's when the whisking sound started." Jack pointed out.

"Crap, she was communicating the change of route to us, when she cracked the window open. Damn it, I should have known!" Clara's heart was racing. This was such a stupid mistake. How could she have not noticed?

"It's a long road that starts nowhere and leads nowhere. No buildings, no flora, no lakes, nothing around it. Just wild land." Mae kept her eyes on the map, searching for any sign of a house or anything at all.

"We should call the closest police station and ask for immediate back-up at the location." It was Jack's best choice.

"No. There's another person involved, a civilian. If they are being kept there against their will, this means we have two people to rescue now. If the police shows up, the UnSub would know this is the end and he would not hesitate to kill either one of his two hostages. He knows he won't be getting out of there alive. Come on, he's an American dude in Cuba, it doesn't get any worse than that." Clara strategized. "We need her to keep talking, so we can understand more about this whole operation. If he ends up getting out alive, we need all we could find out about him, so we can secure him life in prison, with no chance of parole."

"Pretty sure he already has that in the bag." Kevin smiled, at least the thought of this man being close to being caught was giving him some comfort.

"Que bonita!" Angie chuckled when she met the UnSub's other friend - a young, beautiful local girl. Poor, no doubt. But Angie could tell she had a good heart.

She found the girl by a small gas stove, cooking rice and something that smelled terrible. It seemed like she was willingly hanging out there while the UnSub was away, hunting for one more girl. Poor thing, she had no idea what her fate was going to be.

"Belita Oramas." The other girl introduced herself after Angie did the same, with a fake name.

"Good, run that…" Before Clara could turn to face Mae, she was already replying.

"Nothing. I mean, yeah there's a girl with that name that dropped out of a high-school last year. Outskirts of Havana, poor neighborhood…fits the story." Mae spoke. "But nobody filed a missing person's report."

"Wait…" Clara heard some commotion and her attention shifted to that.

After that, there was silence for a while, before Angela spoke again, this time in Spanish.

Clara and Kevin took turns in translating simultaneously.

"Angie is asking Belita what's going on." Clara said.

"Belita replied that the guy has a short temper and that he disliked her cooking." Kevin started translating the other girl's words, so it would resemble a conversation, even in translation.

"Angie said she was hungry and that she would love to eat some of the rice."

"Belita then says she tried very hard, but cooking is not what she is good at. Also, languages."

"Angie questions what she meant by that."

"Belita points out how she has always wanted to live in America and start a family there, have a job, earn good money, put her kids through school. She says the UnSub has promised her all that and that he was also helping her learn English well enough to be able to live and work in the US."

"Angie says this is bullshit and that any Latina could survive just fine in certain parts of the US, like Miami. When Belita said that Miami would be expensive, Angie said…" Clara trailed off. If she didn't translate it, Kevin would, so there was no point in hiding her words. "Angie said that she had once been to Miami and she had done a few uh, jobs, and uh, she had enough money to stay, before she got deported back to Cuba."

"Belita then says that she prefers to do it all legally and that this man had shown her documents for other girls he had helped move to the US, after they finished his English classes."

"Angie asks how long she had been there."

"Belita says, a week. He would drive up to her home sometimes and take her from there, drop her off at this place and then sometimes drive around before coming back. She says he once came back with blood-stained clothes and he had brought her a duck to cook."

"I can stomach a lot, but please, let this not be a case of cannibalism or I'd flip out." Mae put her hand on her mouth, already feeling sick at the thought of that.

"Belita said she took the feathers off and cooked it, but he hated the taste, so he beat her up."

"Oh, thank God that was an actual duck." Mae said, feeling like her face might have turned green by now.

"Angie is asking for his name, but Belita tells her he never said what his name was. He wanted her to call him Professor."

"Some sort of a superiority complex…" Jack allowed himself to make a quick deduction before he let Clara and Kevin continue their translation.

"Angie asks if he has ever done anything inappropriate and Belita says no. He only beat her up once and then hit her across the face on one other occasion, but nothing else. He was being nice, for the most part."

"Angie questions if Belita can get them back to the city and the answer is no. She doesn't even know where they are. She has been there four times for the past week, each time he had driven her there and then dropped her back home."

"Angie is now bringing up presents and Belita says she lives with her uncle, who has problems with alcohol and that the Unsub has given him an expensive bottle of rum a few days ago when he came to take her from the house."

"Same method – he lures the girls in, promising them the American life of their dreams, while he bribes the family members with gifts, so they wouldn't question where he takes the girls and why they don't come back home for hours. He passes for the new friend, possibly even boyfriend, a nice American guy who takes the girl out and always drives her back home. Until one day he doesn't. Then he plays sympathetic, he toys with the families and offers financial care to take care of all the arrangements, once the bodies are found." Clara took a moment to sum up the new information they now had. He must have paid the funerals of his first victims.

"So, you were right all along. He _does_ know the families! But for some reason, none of the people you interviewed spoke about him." Mae had to give it to Clara – she was a genius and she had the sixth sense of Superwoman, when she was doing her job.

"Kevin…" Clara tossed the car keys to him and he was already on his way. He was smart enough to know this was his cue to go interview the families one more time. He also figured he'd only have time to go to one place, so he chose the one within the city limits, where three of the victims lived.

Clara heard a lot of silence after that. The UnSub must have come back, or something must have happened, but she could only hear Angie's breathing and, occasionally, a cough, just as a sign that she was okay.

* * *

"The oldest known dinosaur is Eoraptor, a meat-eater that lived 228 million years ago."

Emily kept on speaking as she came back from the kitchen. She had been a good host and had ordered Henry his favorite pizza, which was great, as it meant no dishes had to be washed afterwards. And yet – she had sacrificed both a fork and a knife, for him, which is why she had to run to the kitchen for about three minutes, to rinse them off. If that ain't love…

"Do you know how many dinosaur species are currently known to humans?"

Her eyes searched for the child, who was looking more and more like a grown up. When did he stop being a toddler? Scratch that – when did he stop being the cutest newborn she had ever seen?

The couch, where she had left him just minutes ago, was now empty. There was just a bunch of emotional crap, buried underneath the cushions, but she forced herself not to think of that. She hadn't touched that piece of paper since she let Morgan read it, a week ago.

"Henry? Are we playing hide and seek again?" Emily noticed all the lights were now off, besides the nightlight in her bedroom.

Henry would not go to bed without any source of light on, however faint it might be.

"Oh God, he better not have found the…" She trailed off, not even wanting to pronounce it.

A wave of relief went through her when she reached the bedroom and made sure the drawer next to her bed had not been opened. She always kept it locked, in attempts of hiding what she kept inside. That was for _her_ eyes only. Henry had his dinosaur toys, Emily had…well, different ones.

"Eh, then again, his mom and I have matching ones. Might not have been the first time he saw it." Emily chuckled at her own insanity.

"I need therapy…" She rolled her eyes before she finally noticed a little bump on her perfectly made bed.

Pushing the covers aside just a tiny little bit, she saw him, curled into a ball, on _her_ side of the bed, to top it all.

Henry knew where she slept – that side of the bed smelled like her perfume. The mattress had slightly sunk in, taking a faint shape of her body. That was where she found him.

"He better not kick." Emily smiled before that facial expression turned in the opposite – a frown.

Subconsciously, she brushed her left hand against her stomach. She wouldn't have minded a kick. Or two. Or a few months' worth of said sweet torture.

In need of doing something to make her jaw stop quivering, she simply sighed, letting her lips part just enough to be able to then take in a sharp breath.

"Goodnight, sweetheart." She hovered on top of him, placing a loving kiss on his cheek before she spent an hour in the bathroom trying to steady her emotions.

* * *

"Which one is yours?" An attractive brunette asked, taking a seat on the bench, right next to a very attractive guy.

Richard tried not to get annoyed. Women had always been attracted to him, with his body built, his posture, those deep, piercing eyes and that tiny little smirk that could flirt with just about anyone.

And yet, he wanted none of it, anymore.

He tilted his head sideways and caught a glimpse of who had spoken to him. This one was a brunette, so that was the better compromise between the looks of a dumb blonde and his perfect Lauren.

Shifting a little bit, he made sure he was sitting sideways, facing this woman. He was definitely not interested, but a little small talk wouldn't hurt.

It had taken him about three hours to drive up to that location, the night before. Then, he had been unable to close his eyes for the entire night. So, in the morning he had opted for a run, after which he had ended up at the beach, sitting by a beach bar, with a coffee in his hand. At first, he had admired the waves, crashing onto the shore with elegance. The sea was a bit rough that day, but rough was how he liked it anyway. Nothing in his life had ever been 'calm waters'. He wasn't sure he was even able to handle 'calm'. And he had handled a lot of things, in life. And people, too.

Then, his eyes had drifted to the little playground of that bar. It was on the sand, with slides and swings for the kids to enjoy while their parents were having coffee close by. There were a total of eight kids playing and they all looked so peaceful, even through the screams and the running around. They were all smiling, happy, carefree.

So, a little small talk wouldn't hurt.

"Oh, she's too old for playgrounds." He replied to the curious woman next to him.

"You have a girl too?" She smiled brightly.

He nodded. He wasn't new to lies and pretending. And he wasn't keen on being himself at that moment, so why the Hell not live out a fantasy?

"This one is mine." She pointed at an adorable little girl with two loose pony tails and rosy cheeks.

The kid ran over to them and as sweaty as she was, she gave her mother a hug before she went back to play with her new friends.

"She's adorable." Richard said with a smile.

"Her name is Marguerite. And I'm Mirielle." The woman introduced them both.

"Louis." Richard did the same, only he wasn't dumb enough to pretend to be someone while being himself and using his own name.

"Nice to meet you, Louis." The woman shook his hand politely.

Richard noticed how both of their names started with the same letter. This would be cute, for normal people, but it was suspicious, to him.

"What's your daughter's name?" She asked curiously.

"Lydie." For some reason, his replies shortened. And for some reason, their names also started with the same letter.

"So, which one is the husband?" It was now _his_ turn to ask the questions.

He eyed a table of five guys, playing cards, while the table next to them was occupied by women, discussing something very passionately. Shoe sales was Richard's best guess.

"Oh, I'm not…he uh…" The woman in front of him frowned, looking down at her left hand. There was no ring on it.

"I'm sorry." Richard placed his hand on her back, trying to comfort her.

The way she had replied pointed at her, having lost a husband. He could relate to this kind of pain – losing a life companion.

"It was years ago. I'm fine. I'm just worried about _her_…" She shot a glance at her daughter.

Richard almost rolled his eyes. Who did she think she could fool?

He had lost his wife years ago, as well, but he was far from being 'fine'.

But then again, show must go on.

"She'll be okay. One day, when you find the right person, she will have a fatherly figure in her life again. Just, choose wisely. This time, it won't be about you, but about _her_ future." Richard offered some words of wisdom.

"I'm in the process of…ehm, choosing. It's been a while and I've only just started to…you know, go out again. I think I'm ready to move on…" She kept on trailing off, acting insecure and looking away from his eyes.

Ready to move on? Wow, those words sure rolled out of her mouth a bit too eagerly.

Richard had been crazy about his late wife and now, years later, he was scared out of his mind to even think of the possibility of admitting this same thing - the 'moving on'; out loud. He _felt_ ready to move on, he knew he was, and he wanted to do that with Lauren and no one else...but the mere process of _saying_ it out loud was too emotional for him to handle. And yet, this woman seemed almost impatient to just scratch out her past and look forward to her future.

"How about I make it easier for you to figure it out. Tonight. At dinner?" He suggested, his eyes soft, hungrily taking in every inch of her body.

"Yeah? I would love that." She looked up, smiling instantly.

_"__Bitch, please!"_ Richard thought to himself while remaining quiet on the outside.

This woman was a mess, she could not stick to one emotional state for more than a few seconds. And the mood jumps were instant, quick, almost as if they were fake.

"You should know, though…" He gave her his best performance. "I'm not one to be tied to a woman. I like to keep my options open. And I'm a fan of, well, entertainment…"

Did he just admit to being a player who liked paid company?

"It's okay. I'm not ready to be tied, either. But they say there's nothing better than rebound sex." She smirked at him.

Rebound? Yes, that usually happened right after a tough break up, not years after your husband had died.

That woman was completely messed up.

"I like the sound of that." Richard let his hand brush against her shoulder before his fingers ended up caressing one of her cheeks.

His eyes narrowed at her, as if he wanted her, then and there.

He had been right, the night before – this was surely going to be awesome!

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan" **Yeah, with Henry being JJ's son and JJ being Emily's best friend, it was only fitting that he'd feel so strongly connected to Emily. I wish they had more interactions on the show. Emily was so good with kids, I saw a YouTube edit about Emily and all the kids that appeared on CM and how she was there for them. :)

Yes, honest and brutal conversations are only just starting. Oh you just wait for it! JJ and Rossi keep Emily in check by telling her the truth. Jack is worried that Angie is not strong enough to survive in the FBI world, like he had been worried about Clara, years ago. Richard and Victor are the male version of Emily and JJ and they share WAY TOO MUCH personal information, LOL! I like this brutal honesty thing, so I'm using lots of it in my story. There is enough suspense and mystery around, so I'm balancing it out with some harshly delivered truths. Also, I like JJ and Emily's inappropriate conversations and little digs at each other, in a purely _**PLATONIC friendly way**_, but also, with clear subtext, lol, as witnessed by what JJ told Emily on the phone, in this chapter (or the chapter title haha)! Also, I needed JJ's "insensitive" little blurbs, to set up for something later on ;) and she feels awful about saying those things spontaneously, before thinking about her words.

Oh, Angie is a Daredevil. She is aware that she gives off the "invincible" vibe, but she knows that's not realistic. It's merely a survival tactic. However, she does not give a crap what happens to her (it will be touched later on), so in her mind she has absolutely nothing to lose, hence she jumps at risks without a trace of hesitation.

**"zhangxinna"** Yup, Henry ADORES Emily. And the funny faces comment was a tribute to Paget Brewster and her dorky, fun charisma (If you've seen her Instagram or Twitter, you know why, hehe).

Wait, nooo, Emily is not pregnant! Woah, it's a bit too early to have beautiful French babies :P Having the fluttery feelings in her stomach, the "butterflies", is a metaphor for being in love! That's what JJ congratulated her about and that's why Emily had no idea, because she's not realizing how strongly she feels about him.

Let me just say that when they meet, it would be...unexpected...out of character for one of them...and somewhere with meaning to both.

As for Angie: Little Miss Bubblehead has a lot to prove to Garrett and the UnSub just gave her the perfect opportunity to do so!


	78. How Could You Hate A Beautiful Dead Girl

**CHAPTER 78**

_**HOW COULD YOU HATE A BEAUTIFUL DEAD GIRL?**_

"Time for Carmen's first English lesson." The UnSub's voice broke the silence.

Clara smirked, listening intently. Carmen? She had always loved that name. Its origin was from Latin, meaning "ode" or "poem", as in "Patrium Carmen" - ode to the motherland. Carmen was also the root of the English word _charm_, which Angie was sure full of.

The UnSub put an old book on the table in front of them and started to explain some basic grammar. He made both girls repeat after him. Belita was not bad with the words and the grammar, but her pronunciation was so wrong and she had no idea how to use prepositions whatsever.

Angie caught on something – the UnSub was very nice and patient while teaching, but then he turned into an asshole when it was Belita's turn to repeat something. He seemed impatient for her to improve her bad pronunciation. It was as if he had flipped the switch, at that very moment.

"Fill the gaps, Carmen." He pushed the book closer to her after he had given her a few minutes to get used to the lesson.

"Uhm…I want to buy a apple and a pear." Angie said slowly, struggling with English, or so it seemed.

"_An_ apple." He corrected her.

"I am going to an concert." She continued.

"_A_ concert!" He corrected her again.

"But, you just said to use _an_." She protested.

"Only when the next word starts with a vowel."

"What is bowel?"

"Vowel!"

"What is vowel?" She was relentless and just so damn good at making someone tick.

The UnSub lost his patience. He stood up, making the book and his glass of water fall down, from the table.

"Why can't you be like her!?" His words did not make much sense. Belita was not all that good, so why would Angie strive to be like her? Unless '_her'_ was not directed to Belita, but to someone else.

Anger took over him and he started pulling on his hair, which Angie profiled immediately.

_"Trichotillomania - also called hair-pulling disorder, is a mental disorder that involves recurrent, irresistible urges to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows or other areas of your body, despite trying to stop. One of the two ways this disorder can be is 'focused' - some people pull their hair intentionally to relieve tension or distress, for example, pulling hair out to get relief from the overwhelming urge to pull hair. Some people may develop elaborate rituals for pulling hair, such as finding just the right hair or biting pulled hairs. One of the two emotions that may trigger it is negative emotions. Pulling of the hair is a way of dealing with negative or uncomfortable feelings, such as stress, anxiety, tension, boredom, loneliness, fatigue or frustration. One of the major risk factors is stress, as severely stressful situations or events may trigger trichotillomania in some people."_ Angie, the good nerd, started remembering specific passages of a book she had once read.

_"I hope he eats his own hair and gets a trichobezoar in his digestive tract."_ She added with a devilish smirk, only speaking to herself mentally, without making a sound.

Her silent monologue prevented her from hearing how he called her 'stupid' and she was also unable to read all of his verbal signs of what was about to happen.

The next thing Clara, Jack, Mae and Kevin heard was a loud slap across the face and there was no doubt in anyone's mind that it had been _Angie_ to receive it.

"Mae, where are we at with the local police?" Jack asked instantly.

"Informed and ready to breach, on my command. They are at the exit of the highway now, waiting for command. It will take them around three minutes to get to the location." Mae informed him.

"No!" Clara put her hand up in the air.

"No? She's a freaking kid! She has no training and she is about to get her ass kicked! What do you mean 'no'? I am responsible for her life. All she had to do here was help us with the interviews. We needed her knowledge of Spanish, not her life and soul!" Jack shook his head.

This was turning into that first case he ever worked with Clara where she had been so stubborn to continue her undercover, that she had ended up in a hospital for the next three days. This was exactly why he disliked Angie – she was the spitting image of Clara, when she was younger.

"I said no!" Clara put her hand over Mae's, sensing that she was about to send that command to the police.

"Three minutes of police sirens approaching, and this kid would be dead, along with the other hostage." Clara pointed out and to that, nobody could say a thing. It was simply a fact.

"Give her time to play it out…" Clara pleased, glancing over to Jack.

"I no like violent." Angie said, holding her hand against her now burning cheek.

"Learn English first and maybe then try to tell me what you _no like_." He mocked her with his last couple of words.

Belita gave her a look, as if to ask her if she was crazy to be irritating this man.

"I'm sorry. I will be try better. Promise." Angie hated having to plea, even if it was on pretense, but the moment was calling for it.

"I have to go now." The UnSub had been checking his watch quite often and as soon as the hour hand hit a specific number, he went back to calm and collected. "Get in the car. I'm driving you back home and I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"What? Just like that?" Jack found this to be suspicious, as soon as Clara translated the UnSub's words for him.

They drove in antagonizing silence for what seemed like an hour. During that time, Clara received a text message from the number she had contacted a day ago, letting them know Angie was working on a case with her.

_"What do you mean she's with you!?"_

Clara smirked, making Mae judge her a little bit. What could be so funny when this poor girl was with the UnSub, God knows where?

_"Relax. She'll be fine."_ Clara replied to that text subtly.

_"WILL be fine!? What has happened to her?"_

_"There might have been a little…situation."_ Clara replied right away, because she knew each second she waited was going to result in an hour more of torturing, if that person got their hands on her.

"IS SHE OKAY!?"

_"You know her – she's just fine. She might even be coming back, right now…"_ Clara wanted to be honest, she just did not have the balls to type out what was really going on, so she dropped a few hints.

_"Coming back? From where? JESUS, CLARA, HAS SHE BEEN KIDNAPPED?"_

_"Uhm, not really. She did go, willingly."_ Clara could not remember a time in her life when she had typed faster than at that moment.

_"She would willingly swallow a whole cow if she was hungry, but that doesn't mean it's what would be best for her!"_

_"I do miss your sarcasm…"_ Clara sighed. Yes, that person was pissed.

_"And I sure as Hell am going to miss your ass, right after I kill you with my bare hands!"_

_"Oh, you better watch out, my love. Threatening a Federal Agent is a punishable crime."_ Clara searched for an emoticon of a smirking face and, weirdly, in the era of technology there still was none. At least none that she could find.

_"Oh, then you better take into consideration who __you're__ talking to, my love!"_

Clara exhaled sharply. She was not new to exchanging pleasantries with that person, but for the most part – it really _was_ love between them.

_"Come on. It's __her__ we're talking about."_ Clara tried to argue.

_"EXACTLY!"_

_"I mean that she's got a good head on her shoulders, she'll be alright. She's been raised right."_ Clara's text helped calm the other person down a bit. Just a tiny little bit.

_"Fine. But you better update me on the spot, if something happens…or, I swear I'll be dancing over your bloody body!"_

_"As long as you are dancing naked… :P "_ Clara was feeling extra spicy. Then again, her conversations with that person often were way above any rating for profanity.

_"Get lost, Seger. Or get laid. Whichever comes first…no pun intended."_

_"Hey! No need to be rude! Bye!"_ Clara put her phone down when she heard a noise from Angie's microphone.

The UnSub had been driving for a while now, in silence, until Angie broke it.

"Embalse niña bonita!" She stated, pointing at the same reservoir that she had asked about, on their way there.

"Ok, this is her telling us that they really are on their way back. So far, so good." Clara deducted, by what she was hearing on the intercom.

"This no way to mine house." Angie, or rather Carmen, said, a little after that.

Clara froze. Her hands were now grabbing the wooden chair and her jaw was clenched.

"Estación de El Cano…" Angie read a sign out loud. "In English – train station."

"Good job!" The UnSub looked at her with a smile before he made a left turn and the car stopped moving.

Belita opened the door and Angie had to communicate that.

"Is this where you live? Cool building. I like the round blue windows, makes it look like a submarine." Angie said in Spanish, so this time it was Kevin who translated it to the team.

"English only!" The UnSub scolded the girls who were now chuckling about the submarine reference.

"Sorry, Professor." Angie said with the sweetest smile.

He had never told her _what_ to call him. It was Belita who had shared that with her and he did not know this. So, hearing her call him 'Professor' now made him like her even more, thinking she did so out of her own spontaneous will. It definitely flattered his ego and it was exactly what Angie wanted to accomplish.

"Time tomorrow?" Belita asked.

"I will pick you up at ten." He said, waving at her and quickly driving off.

Angie noticed he checked his watch three more times, while driving. Clearly, he was in a hurry to go somewhere.

"I will pick you up at quarter-to-ten tomorrow. You better know how to cook." He stated, now driving down a street she could recognize.

"I very good cook. I do chicken and the spices well." Angie spoke, as Carmen.

"Good, I'll pick up some chicken after class today."

"Gooooooood girl!" Jack nearly yelled when he heard the first actual cluee that could help them figure out the UnSub's identity.

"What did I miss?" Kevin questioned, since everyone was now acting so proud of his fellow Trainee.

"She kept him talking and he revealed something about himself. He spoke about a class…" Mae started off.

"He must be a high-school teacher. It's about time for the afternoon classes to start and Angie mentioned earlier that he has been checking his watch often. Plus, he wants Belita to call him 'Professor'. So, he could even be a university staff member, but I doubt that. Everything points to an inferiority complex he is trying to work out, so if he wants to be called a professor, he surely isn't one in real life. He must be just a teacher." Clara continued Mae's words.

"Is it just me, or is Angie actually good at this?" Kevin cringed, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer to that question. He, on the other hand, was doing nothing and contributing little to the case, other than translating in real time. But then again, wasn't this _all_ they were supposed to do anyway?

"_Extremely_ good!" Jack was now on the edge of his seat, waiting to hear more of the conversation.

"Thank you for drive home. I need you be safe, okay?" Angie said politely, when she saw the UnSub turn the corner to the building where he had picked her up from, almost two hours ago.

"Shh." Clara made Jack shut up, sadly, at a moment when he was willingly going to give Angie another compliment.

"That's them!" Clara stood up after she heard the sound of an old car, approaching.

From the corner of the window, she was able to catch a glimpse of the car's license plate, although she was sure Angie had already memorized that. She just hadn't been so sure she'd get to _see_ Angie again, to ask her about it.

Mae was now running it through a very limited Cuban vehicle database, sadly coming up with nothing. The plates were bogus.

"Promise me you safe?" Angie pushed it, but it wasn't really him that she was talking to. No. She was making a plea to the team to not jump out and arrest him. So far, they had absolutely no evidence against him, other than him being a creep who physically abused her, by hitting her.

"Don't worry. I'm safe. Heck, there's a guard circling the parking lot, making sure nobody messes with my car while I'm at work." He laughed, letting slip one more vital piece of information.

Mae would then later use this information to narrow down the schools and universities that had a guard in the courtyard, especially by the parking lot.

"Ok, bye!" She said cheerfully, hopping out of the car and waltzing towards the building.

The car disappeared while Clara was still trying to explain to Jack that it had been Angie's wish to not bust this man right then and there. Jack was ready – gun in hand, will in his heart.

A minute later, Angie knocked on the door three times slow and then one fast double knock.

"It must be her." Mae pointed out.

"Sure it is. She knocked in rhythm of Salsa." Clara had an inner nerd in her and sometimes, not too often, she would let it out to play. Plus, she loved Salsa.

"Oh, thank God! I would have hated you so much if you cost me my badge!" Jack exhaled with relief, but still, he welcomed Angie back with a hug, as he was the one who opened the door for her.

"How could you hate a beautiful dead girl?" She chuckled, seemingly unbothered by the fact that she had, basically been kidnapped.

"Can you take us to his house?" Jack questioned, wondering if her orientation skills were as good as her survival ones.

"I can." Angie nodded.

When she failed to say anything else, Jack knew he was in for a treat.

"But, I won't." She could have said that, without the long and awkward pause.

"What do you mean?" Mae was new to anyone having the audacity to speak up in front of Jack. Usually, people feared his authority.

"Well, first of all – it would be rude. You're not invited." She smirked. "And yeah, there really isn't a second reason."

"How about putting a killer behind bars. That reason enough for you, young lady?"

"On what grounds? We have no proof yet. The way I see it – I'm just hanging out with a very creepy and abusive dude. God knows how many of those are walking free, oh, please let's let another one roam the streets when the court sees it all as circumstantial evidence, which, by the way, we don't even have!" Angie sat on a chair, hearing one of its tiny legs snap, so she ended up with her ass on the floor. It did not even make her wince. Could anything bother that girl? Anything at all?

"She does make a good point…" Clara shrugged.

"I'm going back in tomorrow and we'll see if I can get any more information on him."

"No, you're not."

"Uh, yes I am."

"No, you are not."

"Yes, I am."

"Fine, you are…" Jack finally gave up.

Screw the similarities between her and Clara. Clara was an angel, compared to this one and her feisty attitude.

"Yey!" Angie clapped her hands, looking like a happy child, still sitting on the floor.

Mae busied herself, trying to find a place they can go eat and Kevin was more than happy to follow her to the little corner by the window, as she was hoping there would be some sort of reception for her phone in there.

Jack took his sweet time to relax outside, holding a Cuban cigar in one hand.

Clara's idea of a good time was to sit back and keep her eyes on Angie for as long as possible, before Angie would snap.

Five minutes into her sick little game, and Angie was still fine. She was not an idiot, of course she knew what Clara was doing, those eyes of hers were burning holes into Angie's slim frame.

Seven minutes into the game, Angie had now stood up and she was singing a song, by the window.

One more minute and Angie was now blaming herself for not having tried the rice that Belita had cooked. Maybe it wasn't too bad? The UnSub was probably a picky eater – something that Angela most definitely was not. She was starving, she'd eat just about anything at that moment.

"Jesus Christ, woman. Speak!" Angie finally gave up.

One second she was fine, then all of a sudden she was rolling her eyes and almost yelling at Clara.

"One point for me." Clara smirked at her victory after cracking Angie's patience.

"I'm not a child. I don't do _points_ anymore." Angie folded her arms in front of her chest. "Use that big mouth of yours, I know it works. I've seen it in full function just recently."

"Oh, this is just mean!" Clara pretended to be offended.

"Yup, what can I say? I'm a bitch!" Angie smirked.

"_That_ you are."

"Can we go back to pretending to not like each other?"

"Who said I was pretending?"

"I know your heart basically beats for me, and _only_ me." Angie teased.

"That might be somewhat true. Sadly." Clara could not help but laugh.

"I don't have all day here. What is it that you wanted to tell me?" Angie shifted the focus of their pointless conversation back to the whatever reason for Clara's judgy looks earlier.

Instead of putting it verbally, Clara let her know all she wanted to tell her, with a gesture.

Angie raised her hand up in the air, meeting Clara's, for a sounding high five. It was better than _any_ compliment words could ever form.

"I wasn't pretending, either." Angie then moved two steps back, she knew Clara had a short fuse.

"You know you love me, XOXO." Clara made a stupid face.

"I _have_ to love you when you're making Gossip Girl references." Angie chuckled, giving in and letting Clara win, this time.

* * *

"Daddy, but we haven't even had breakfast yet!" Henry protested when the first thing he saw in the morning was his father's frame, hovering above him, and yet he was still in Emily's bed.

Will had driven JJ to Emily's and was now going to take Henry back home.

"Oh, we got invited?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

She remembered JJ had specified Saturday as a possible day for the start of the case, yet she wasn't aware that at 7 am they were supposed to be ready to leave. Not that it was of any inconvenience to the woman whose nickname was literally International Woman of Mystery. Emily would never take more than two minutes to be ready to hop to another continent and she would always have everything she needed with her. A lifetime of traveling had taught her how to keep the important possessions at hand, at all times. Unfortunately, it had not taught her how to keep the important _people_ close to her, as well.

"I called, seven times. Then I texted, three times. I also e-mailed, twice." JJ said sternly. She was not a fan of early mornings.

"Well, I haven't had the chance to check the group chat. You guys spam it like crazy!" Emily bit the tip of her pointy finger, looking at JJ guiltily.

"No, all of the above was to your _personal_ accounts. I spammed the group chat with photos of vanilla flavored, chocolate-sprinkled donuts, instead."

"That was an oddly specific craving." Emily laughed. "Third one better be a girl!"

"Oh, Hell no. Don't even. No, no, don't go there, Emily!" JJ felt numb at the thought of possibly having another child.

"Well, with all the bullet points you checked last night…" Emily trailed off, putting it in code, so that Henry wouldn't understand what she was referring to. Will did, though.

"Mommy, can I check some bullet points too?" Henry asked, unknowingly.

"No! Ask me again in ten years." JJ sighed and then shot a very disapproving glance to Emily.

"You are bad influence!" JJ added, with a smile, so it wouldn't look too rude.

They both gave Henry a kiss before Will drove off, with him in his car.

On their way to Emily's car, she checked her phone and there were, indeed, a few thousand messages from JJ.

"Can't blame you. I'd be too busy adoring Henry's beauty, too." JJ smiled.

She knew that Emily would not have taken her eyes off that child. She had fallen in love with him since the second she had first laid eyes on him, as a newborn. It was sort of the same with Michael, too. But Henry…something about their connection was just special. Maybe because he was the older one, so Emily had literally had more time to get to know him and to see him around. Whatever the reason – Emily adored that child.

"So, new case…" Emily smiled, unlocking her car.

"Yeah, sure…sure. Change topic, Emily. Why not?" JJ laughed.

Even after all these years and all the training in profiling, Emily still thought she could fool the team with her tactics. Maybe sometimes, yes. But never when JJ was involved.

* * *

"Come on in." Richard said with a big smile, opening the door for a certain someone he had met that morning, on the beach.

It was dark now, with a silent breeze coming from the sea. He had opened the big sliding door to the veranda, overlooking the water, and he could hear the waves crashing. The little light that there was between his house and the water, illuminated just enough, leaving the rest to his imagination. It was quiet, romantic, secluded and it kind of put him in the mood.

He would have loved to spend the night there, with Lauren by his side.

He had spent the entire day at the house, lounging, reading a book and playing with a drone, as if he was a child. Sometimes he could not neglect his geeky urges and he just _had_ to cave in and allow himself the joys of some weird, twisted little game.

"You look…" He eyed the woman up and down, twice.

She looked like she needed to eat a few more burgers. That was how she looked, in his eyes. She was skinny and her face was long and shallow, no doubt just as shallow as _she_ would turn out to be.

He walked her to the living room area and she kept looking around curiously.

"This is a nice house…Can I get a tour?" She requested with a smirk, clearly wanting something.

"Don't worry. You'll be getting the full tour later and I promise you it will end with me, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom." He smirked right back.

"So, uh, where is your daughter?" She asked. "I don't see any toys lying around. You should see what _my_ living room looks like, oh, it's a huge mess."

"She studies abroad and she's now living with her mother. And she's not into ordinary toys." He said vaguely. "Where's yours?"

If he had a daughter, there was no doubt the kid would be into guns, swords and protective shields. Hell, she would probably just as geeky as him, running around the house and playing Superheroes with all the gadgets and toys he would have bought for her.

"Mine? I got her a babysitter for the night." The woman replied.

"So, you don't think your wife would mind?" She continued, pretending to fan herself, as if it was hot. This was the most outrageously dumb thing Richard had ever seen.

"She's not my wife. Not yet, anyways." He replied calmly.

"Oh? But you two have a kid together…"

"Yeah, due to some…ehm, unconventional circumstances, we ended up having a daughter." Richard was enjoying this so much. His words made no sense to that woman, but meant everything to him. only he was able to decipher what the Hell he was saying. He sure loved speaking in code.

"IVF?" She asked nosily. Why was it any of her business anyway? "Where does your wife live?"

"Not exactly." He shook his head. "Oh, she travels a lot. Her job kind of requires it."

"What does she do for a living?"

"Hey, why ruin the mood by talking about my daughter's mother, right?" His patience had limits. He could go lying his ass off for hours, but he needed to be done with this woman as soon as possible and she was ruining his evening plans by babbling about some other hypothetical woman.

"She's not here." He winked at her. "_You_ are."

"So, I guess it's just you and me…" She took a step towards him, eyeing him with a certain hunger.

Richard hated it when women were so direct. He tried really hard not to show just how annoyed he was by her.

"Wine?" He offered, using it as an excuse to walk further from her and to grab a bottle of fine red wine from the counter.

"Oh, you have very refined taste." She commented as soon as she saw the wine label. That bottle could easily have cost him 200 euro.

"I sure do." He smirked, thinking of Lauren. Refined? Check! And double check!

"So, what's bringing you to this place?" The woman kept on asking.

"Just a little get-away from the city."

"How long are you staying?" She sure was curious.

"I don't know yet." He replied, handing her a glass of wine.

"To new acquaintances." She put her glass up in the air, to toast him.

"To having a good time." Richard smirked, clinking his glass against hers.

"I like you, Louis." She smiled after a few sips of her wine.

"There's a lot to like about me." He replied strategically. He wouldn't be caught dead repeating _her_ words.

"I want to know more about you." She crossed her legs properly, both of them now sitting on the sofa and looking at the horizon.

While Richard enjoyed the sight of the waves crashing, the woman was on a mission.

"What's your job? Where are you from?" She asked.

He started to appreciate Lauren all that much more. Lauren had begged him not to tell her those things. At the moment, it had annoyed him, but he was now learning the value of having the option to keep certain things to himself.

"I'm, let's say, into import-export." He said, swirling the wine in his glass and enjoying its color – a beautiful, deep red. Just like Lauren's lipstick on the third day after they had met.

"Interesting…"

"Really? Most women find it boring." He sure loved playing with her.

"Well, then how about you tell me what other things you like doing…" Her hand was a bit impatient. She let it rest against his chest and he sucked in a breath.

The game had been fun so far, but it was starting to get real and he might start losing his patience.

"I like…" He leaned forward, letting her know he was interested. "I like playing games."

"Oh, you do? What's your favorite game?" Her fingers unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

He took that as a sign and used it as an excuse to grab her wine glass from her other hand and to place it on the small table that was now behind this woman's shoulders. Reaching for the table only made him lean all that much more into her, until she was resting comfortably against the pillow, with him, hovering on top of her.

"You like hide and seek?" She asked, giggling a little bit.

Her giggles were annoying. She sounded like a drunk underage girl at a bar.

Richard closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember the way Lauren giggled. She had sounded so vibrant, so happy.

"_Especially_ hide and seek." He replied while fiddling with his watch, over the small table next to the couch.

"I love hiding." She said, proceeding in unbuttoning just one more button of his shirt.

With one hand, he pushed her hair off her face, as if he was trying to uncover it, to make more of her visible.

"I love _finding_ people." He said softly. "I'm really good at seeing them for who they really are." He added, now literally seeing more of her face.

With his other hand, he trailed over the two wine glasses after tapping open a minuscule side compartment on his watch, and pouring its dust-like contents over the glasses.

"Oh yeah? And what do you see _me_ as?" Her question was delivered while pressing her lips against his ear.

Usually, Richard would be into it. He thought it was intimate and sexy to whisper like that, but everything about her was annoying and uncalled for. He couldn't wait to be done with her.

"I see you as an extremely naughty one…" He whispered back. "And I think I might need to punish you."

"Good. I like it rough." Her brutal honesty was off-putting, especially since he did not feel one tiny bit attracted to her.

"Well, luckily for you, I love to entertain. I also know how to make a woman have a really good time. I like the challenge of giving her what she deserves."

With a small smile, he grabbed both glasses and let her choose which one she wanted to grab.

"Maybe we should change that toast…" She suggested.

"Alright. Then let's toast to…" He thought of his next words for a second. "To giving people what they deserve."

"And to playing rough." She added before clinking his glass for the second time that evening.

He waited for her to take a sip, which she eagerly did, before he brought his glass to his lips. Surely this woman would give him the perfect opportunity to act out on what he had to do next.

Her hand tugged on his half-way unbuttoned shirt before it slid down and rested on the belt of his pants. And then a little lower.

Richard gasped at the sudden pace of their game and instinctively let go of his wine glass as he moved his body an inch forward.

"Crap!" He muttered, hearing the glass break on the floor.

"This is going to stain!" He looked down and saw the pool of red wine slowly expanding, soaking part of the white rug that was in front of the couch.

"Who cares?" The woman laughed and took a large second sip before she put her glass down.

Now having both hands free, she was able to rip his shirt open, allowing herself a few seconds to admire the beauty of his body.

He sure looked like he went to the gym a lot. And he sure would have a lot of stamina…

"How about that house tour now?" She asked cheekily.

"Sounds like good timing. What do you want to see first?"

"The bedroom." She replied. As if he hadn't figured _that_ out already.

He saw her eyes flutter and he knew better than to let her walk on her own. Instead, he stood up and picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom, as per her own request…and very much as he had promised her to do, when she had first walked in his house.

"It's not fair. You're a bit too dressed." He commented when she tried to get him rid of his pants, as well.

It took her two whole minutes to strip down. He noticed how she struggled with her own zipper and how her fingers lost sensitivity as she rolled her shirt up and tossed it to the floor.

"Now, you." She said hungrily.

He smiled and moved a few inches away from her. It wouldn't take long…

"What is taking you so long?" She whimpered.

"Actually, what is taking _you_ so long?" He finally rolled his eyes. It wouldn't even matter, now that her eyes were halfway shut anyway.

She battled that weird feeling in her stomach for a whole minute more before her body finally gave up. Her eyes shut and she let out a silent sigh as she lost conscious.

"Finally, damn it." He rolled his eyes again, making up for all these times earlier when he had felt the urge to do so.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan"** You're not the only one impressed. Turns out Jack is warming up to the Bimbo that Clara dragged to their team :)! As for Emily - she sure needs to get some...release? Fun? Or just get some. Full stop. LOL! As for Richard - remember I'm a sick and twisted individual (lol!) and nothing is EVER as it seems, in my writing *wink*!


	79. Kind Of Sick Of That

** CHAPTER 79**

_**KIND OF SICK OF THAT**_

"…And please be nice to Jack." Clara ended off a very long speech about being careful with the UnSub.

It was 6 am and they were in Cuba. The last thing Angie wanted was to be listening to someone's whiny voice.

"Uh-huh." She replied absentmindedly, on her way to take her morning shower.

"He might not be nice to you, but he is still our boss."

"Uuh-huhh."

Clara sighed. Apparently, nothing was getting through to Angie, so she might as well change tactics.

"Since I'm the coolest person you've ever met, you are now going to agree to spend a weekend with me, outside of work." Clara suggested, since Angie clearly wasn't listening at all and was confirming everything automatically.

"Uh-hu…" Clara was just about to smirk victoriously, but Angie was too smart.

"Hey!" Angie corrected herself, frowning instantly. "The coolest person I've ever met is staring at me right now."

Clara looked behind her and found Angie in front of the mirror.

"Ugh, you are _so_ vain."

"Says the one who gave me her lipgloss. _Used_ one, by the way!"

"It wasn't _mine_. It was one, like the one I use…"

"Pfff, as if you went out of your way to go buy me a new one. Please! I saw the pink stain on the applicator, I know you've put the lipgloss on top of that cute lipstick you put on when you, ehm, go out to have some, ehm, _fun_."

"God, please, stop!" Clara blushed. It was so true, and she was so busted.

Angie then hung out in the room for a little bit, clutching onto the towel. She really wanted to go take a shower, but there was something else she had to check off her short list of daily tasks first.

"Speak." It was Clara's turn to antagonize her now.

"Uhm, I don't know how to do this…"

"Be honest?" Clara laughed.

"Yes. Can you blame me?" Angie met her laughter with a low blow.

"Anyway…" She took a deep breath. "I really want to do well. And I don't care if Jack compliments me. In fact, I want him to be rude to me. It makes me want to improve. But, I mean, in general…"

"You want to prove yourself here. You're young. I doubt anyone takes you seriously around here, and don't take that as an insult. You know exactly what I mean…" To Clara's words, Angie simply nodded. She heard her, loud and clear.

"Yeah, but it kind of sucks being that bubbly airhead…"

"You don't have to be _her_." Clara put her hand through Angie's hair. "You can be anyone you want."

"Yeah…kind of sick of that, too." Angie sighed.

Clara would never be able to understand. Up to some extent – yeah, maybe. But not completely. There was only one person on Earth who could completely relate to Angie's struggles, but she was way too pissed and proud, to go find them.

* * *

"Up they go again…" Reid said loudly, motioning with his hand in the air, as if he were a plane.

Emily and JJ walked in on him and Matt, the only two people who would wake up this early, on a Saturday, for work.

"Oh, perfect! We're double dating now!" Reid said and the high pitch in his voice was a bit unusual.

Matt pointed to an oversized pack of marshmallows, which Reid had practically destroyed by himself.

"Oh, great. Another high as a kite kid." Emily sighed.

Reid was barely easy to digest when he was his normal self, but a sugar-high Reid was something Emily would strive to avoid at all costs. Would she?

"And one, two, three, four, five…thirty-seven people between gate A 01 and A 19 have the same suitcase." He stated within seconds.

JJ shot a glance at Emily and no words were needed.

"Reid, statistics on my salad, please?" JJ asked, holding a sad salad that contained pretty much just celery and two slices of tomato. This was everything she had in the fridge back home, ready to be grabbed. Everything else had to be assembled and she had no time in the morning, even if it meant she was now having breakfast with a salad.

"You burn more calories eating celery, than what it contains, so the more you eat the thinner you become." He replied.

"Random fact?" Rossi asked, walking over to greet the team.

"The most children born to one woman were 69, she was a peasant who lived a 40 year life, in which she had 16 twins, 7 triples, and 4 quadruples." Reid then shot a glance at Emily. "Guess you're too old to beat that now."

"I am going to destroy you!" Emily hissed back at him. She hated it when Reid pointed out that she was old.

"Oh, oh. Fun game. I wanna play!" Garcia was on the phone with Tara, so she jumped on the game-train, now that Tara had put her on loudspeaker, as soon as she had arrived at the airport.

"Cats spend 66% of their life asleep." Reid replied to the question he was sure she was going to ask him. Everyone knew how much Garcia loved cats.

"Here's a bonus round - there are 635,013,559,599 possible hands in a game of bridge." Reid said with the biggest grin on his face.

"My God, I love him!" Emily laughed. "That sure was a mouthful."

"Who is the richest person in the world?" Luke rolled up to where his team was now standing.

"Not _who_, but _what_! WAL-MART generates $3,000,000.00 in revenues every 7 minutes." Reid said while polishing his sneakers with a wet tissue.

"Damn, man! I'm in the wrong business!" Luke's face was full of surprise. That fact had hit him in the face.

"Fact on injuries in the US?" Matt asked, walking two steps behind Luke. One of his sons had just injured his hand while playing in the back yard.

"Each year, more than 50,000 people are injured by jewelry in the U.S."

"Most of those happened in kindergarten, I can assure you of that." Matt rolled his eyes. Every day he'd be surprised with a new bandage, on the leg or arm of at least one of his children.

"Kindergarten dates all the way back to 1779, when a couple of citizens in Strasbourg created a school to provide learning and enrichment to the young children of workers during the day. The idea soon spread world-wide as cities and countries realized the importance of caring for the youngest members of their population. Each year about 3.5 million students enroll in Kindergarten thanks to the 45 states that require districts to provide some form of Kindergarten. Eleven of those states require districts to provide full-day kindergarten. Research suggests that students in full-day kindergarten programs see both academic and social-emotional gains, especially when those programs are located in low-SES districts-..."

The problem with this game was that, for the first two minutes everyone was enjoying it. And then there was Reid who would spiral out of control and keep on playing by himself.

"Please, make it stop!" Rossi nudged JJ, making a hand gesture, to show that his head was now spinning.

"Reid?" JJ whispered, but he went on and on about kindergartens and then, right after that, switched topic to caffeine.

"Reid?" She continued her failed attempts to make him snap out of nerdy-land.

Emily then had a revelation. She could save the day with the simple mention of one thing. Just one tiny, round thing, with a gap.

"Oh, look at that. I have a chocolate glazed donut with sprinkles in my bag." Emily opened her bag, pretending to be amazed by something she saw inside.

"Chocolate glazed donuts with sprinkles!?" Reid's eyes flashed instantly. He looked up at her, like an expectant child, praying to God this was true.

"Gimme, gimme, gimme!" He put his hands in front of his body, pleading her to contribute to his already crazy sugar high.

All Emily did was shrug, that tiny gesture breaking Reid's heart into pieces.

"You know, In the U.S. alone, more than 10 billion doughnuts are made every year. The largest doughnut ever made was an American-style jelly donut weighing 1.7 tons, which was 16 feet in diameter and 16 inches high in the center. Per capita, Canada has more doughnut shops than any other country. Plus, you now owe me a lifetime of donut supplies!" He stated defensively.

Everyone kind of looked at each other and JJ shrugged.

"Well, it lasted about, like, two seconds…" JJ tried to compliment Emily's efforts, even though the results had proven to be insufficient. Reid's mouth had not been shut for enough time.

* * *

"…And if you get into trouble?" Clara was now going through the specifics of communication, to make sure it wouldn't be one-sided, like the day before.

"Yeah, yeaaah. I mention Christmas and you come in and save my idiot, incapable Trainee ass." Angie said with a sigh.

"This is not funny, young lady! We're talking about your safety here."

"Really? Because this psycho can do something _oh so terrible_ to me?" She dramatized, placing her hand on her forehead in slow motion.

All Clara did in response was to push three photos in front of Angie's eyes. The latest victims. Quite graphic photos, at that.

"Yup, okay, point taken." Angie shrugged lightly.

"And this time, if communication does not go both ways, we're busting through that door!" She reassured the girl.

"Well, first of all – there was no door. We were outside the whole time. And secondly, why can't you just wait for my sign?"

"Because by the time you manage to give it to us, you may be dead. I find that to be a plausible reason why, don't you think so, darling?"

"Ugh, can you, please, not call me that? I mean, I like you, but not like that." Angie cringed.

"Why do you always have to have a dirty mind?"

"Because, I was brought up like that. Don't you dare question that. Okay?" Angie felt like she had won the lottery by winning that argument. And then Clara just _had_ to bring back the old, annoying topic.

"Code word?"

"Huh?"

"We need a code word, if things get super complicated and you need us, immediately."

"I'll be talking about Christmas, remember?"

"No, that's when you get into trouble. Your code word is for super urgent situations."

"Ugh, fine. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

"Come on now!" Clara rolled her eyes. "Anything more complicated, no?"

"What!? It's not like _you_ have to pronounce it all!"

"Can you pretend like you're serious, for like, two minutes?"

"I could, but it would cost you."

"You name it!"

"Get me and Bryan out of the Academy for one whole day and get us paid, too."

"Slam dunk, babe!"

"Stop calling me cute names! It's sickening. Eww!"

Clara chuckled. Her conversations with Angela made little-to-no sense at all.

"So, what's the code word?"

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!" Angie smirked and proceeded in changing into the worn out clothes that her Carmen undercover identity would wear.

Clara opened her mouth, intending to tell Angie what a pain in the ass she was. But, knowing how she must be painfully aware of that fact already, plus, it surely made her proud, she decided against speaking.

"Are we all set?" Garrett asked, knocking on the door.

"Yup." Angie opened and let him in.

It was a little after half past nine and the team was getting ready to deliver Angie to the UnSub. After three more attempts to make sure Angie's line was open on both ends and that they could all heard each other, they instructed her to make the guy talk about the killings, so they can have that on record. Clara kept repeating that Angie, not being an FBI Agent, had no liberty of carrying a gun or any kind of defense utility. If push came to shove, Angie would only be able to use her bare hands, and still, not being an Agent, she'd have to pray whatever the outcome of the fight, would pass as self-defense in court, because that was where it would be going. She was nothing short of a civilian, helping the IRS with translations in a foreign country.

"Be safe, Hunter." Kevin smiled at her.

This was all new to him. He felt like, at that moment, he was betraying Angie in some way, by sending her into the arms of a dangerous criminal.

But Angie knew better. She knew the team would have her back, no matter what happened. At _any_ moment.

Clara gulped, watching Angie take a few more steps towards the door. Out of the whole team, she was the only one who did not salute Angie and she noticed that.

"Cough? Really?" Angie whispered, looking back to make sure Clara knew what she was referring to.

"Are you serious!?" Clara flipped out, like Angie knew she would. "I'm going to-…"

Clara cut herself off, feeling Garrett's questioning eyes on her. How could she explain her outburst? She couldn't very well just tell him that Angie had just admitted that the day before she had heard every single thing on the line but chosen not to reply. The thought of that made Clara's skin crawl. So, it hadn't been a one-way connection after all.

Angie rushed outside where she greeted her new friends, from the day before. A little after ten o'clock, the UnSub's car turned around the corner.

"Hello." Angie greeted him cheerfully, hopping in the car before he would even invite her in.

"Here we go…" Garrett closed his eyes for a second, clutching his car keys in one hand as he watched Angie getting in the car of a serial killer.

The IRS had parked their car behind the building and were scheduled to use an alternate route to reach the UnSub's lair. Angie had previously ticked a location on the map, remembering the few turns they had made the day before, after exiting the highway. She was positive, up to 0,3 miles of distance, that she had given them the right location.

* * *

"Have they made contact yet?" Victor asked, as soon as Richard picked up the burner phone that he had taken with him on this improvised trip.

"Yes and their 'contact' is naked, in my bed, as we speak." Richard smirked, drinking his morning coffee on the veranda.

It was so peaceful, at any time of the day or night. He really liked that place.

"Dude, what the fu-…"

"Relax!" Richard cut him off. "Obviously, I didn't sleep with her."

"So what…you drugged her lying ass and left her unconscious and naked?"

"Pretty much. Yeah."

"Dude!"

"What? Do you happen to have a better solution to the problem?" Richard scoffed. He hated it when people questioned his decisions.

"Well, no. But what are you going to do now? The plan was to let them believe they were fooling you."

"That was _before_ I saw the person they sent to fool me. They even used a kid, to get my attention and to sell their story. Can you believe that!?"

"Like _you're_ the one to be surprised when kids are being used for something like this…" Victor scoffed accusingly.

"Yeah okay, touché." Richard sighed, dipping a cookie in his coffee. "We need a new plan now."

"I was hoping _you_ had one to suggest. You know, after all, it was _your_ brilliant idea to drug the middle man. Or, in your case – middle woman!" Victor was bitter.

Richard was known to go rogue and, usually, it gave results. But not always.

"Vic, she was all over me. They went after my insatiable appetite for the opposite sex. Had I denied her, they would have known something was up and this whole thing would have been for nothing. Need I mention that we would have spent God knows how many more weeks, months even, trying to bust these guys?"

"Well, when you put it like _that_, it makes sense." Victor finally admitted it. "What's our next move, Boss?"

"I have no idea. I was thinking, I'll see if she remembers anything about last night. Maybe I'll let her go, but that would mean she'd only come back. Plus, she can lie to me and say she doesn't remember…So, I don't know. I may just end up keeping her in the basement."

"Torture her all you want, but if you kill her, we lose all hope of figuring out who Zenum is." Victor reminded him.

"I'll have my fun with her. Granted, it won't be the kind of fun she came here, hoping to get. God, you should have seen how desperate she was last night. And that perfume, ugh, she smelled like roses and peonies. Disgusting." Richard could not help but cringe, just at the thought of that.

"Well, your bed now smells of that, too. So, good job, Boss." Victor smirked. He loved pushing Richard's buttons.

"This house has three bedrooms, I'm surely going to be fine if I don't sleep in the master bedroom for as long as this thing lasts." Richard said, frowning at the sight of his soggy biscuit breaking off, just as he was about to eat it, and falling back down and into his coffee, making a small splash.

"Did they mention anything about…you know?"

"No, not directly. She was grilling me about my job, but she seemed more interested in my 'daughter's mother'. And I say that with air quotes." Richard rolled his eyes.

Victor always pulled his leg when it came to _that_ story.

"That's weird, though. It makes no sense they want _her_, when _we_ want _them_, for a completely different reason. She must be involved, somehow." Victor started thinking out loud.

"I can assure you, she is neither involved, nor aware of what is going on here."

"How do you know that? Have you spoken to her lately? Or, at all?" Victor's skepticism was unwelcomed.

"Because it would make no sense. They wouldn't send someone after _me_, if they wanted _her_. They already know I'm not in contact with her, we made sure of it." Richard seemed to have all the answers. But, was he right?

"I hope that's the case or things might get ugly, pretty fast. So, the woman they sent, tell me about her." Victor was curious.

"Medium height, annoying, brunette. I'm pretty sure I saw her on the live camera feed that Simon was able to provide us with, months ago, when he infiltrated their organization. She just has a familiar face, but I don't know where from. Anyway, she came up to me yesterday morning at the beach. I figured I was being followed from the city, all the way up to here, but I didn't think they'd make contact so soon. She flirted and I was going to shut her down when the small talk about her kid turned into a full blown interrogation about _my_ kid and _my_ life, but that's when I realized she must be one of them, so I told her about my, ehm, love of entertainment, and I invited her over."

"And you drugged her…" Victor added to Richard's story.

"It seemed like a great idea, at the moment. She's probably going to wake up soon. Can you send someone to come over and take care of her pseudo daughter? I have a feeling this child might have been kidnapped. Something about the way the kid ran to her and hugged her, the second she looked at her, it just seemed staged."

"Sure, I'll send you someone. I'm on my way to the office right now. I'll see which one of the guys wants to take a field trip to the seaside."

"Not guys! I need women. Send me only females. And brief them, I need them to act as my, well, entertainment…" Richard cringed. The women he worked with were brilliant and he respected them way too much, to make a request like this one. And yet, he simply _had_ to.

"Ehm, dude, need I remind you that either one of our females is perfectly capable of kicking your ass if you so much as lay your hands on them?" Victor spoke nervously.

"Do you not know me at all!? I told this woman that I love entertainment, as in – I pay women to entertain me. I'm pretty sure she was wearing a device on the beach, so I said it loud and clear, so whoever would be on the other side of the line would not suspect something if different women started coming over to the house. So, go see which one of our girls is willing to put on a skimpy outfit and come knock on my door. I'm bored. I need company. And if you dare make an inappropriate comment, you are fired! Oh and also, tell the girls they only need that outfit to get through the door. I'll have them change into whatever they want, once we are inside and nobody is watching. I'm not a masochist, I won't make them stay dressed like this all day and night. Plus, I don't want to _see_ them like that." Richard cringed again.

The thought of seeing either one of his female employees nearly naked and acting like an escort disturbed him. It had happened way too many times, in the past, and he was not comfortable with it. Those women were incredible, if they could pull _that_ off, and then pull a gun from…wherever they were able to stick it, underneath the little that they were wearing.

"Oh, Richard, I don't think you are aware of just how many of our female employees would jump at the chance to play pretense with you, for a night of, well, entertainment." Victor announced. "And they won't even need to change out of those skimpy outfits. Not willingly, that is."

"Eww, this is disgusting! I'm their Boss! Most of them are younger than me. I've never looked at either one of them, like _that_!" Richard sighed. His peaceful breakfast had been ruined, officially.

"I know. But what _you_ don't know is the way some of them look at _you_."

"And I didn't need to know that." Richard groaned. "Wait, really? Eww! Tell them they're fired! In fact, don't send me either one of the girls who volunteer to come up here, willingly, okay? Having a thing for someone you work with, in our line of work, is nothing short of a suicide mission."

"Like, really bro? Really!? This, coming from _you_?" Victor raised his voice at Richard's previous statement. It was incredibly double-standard of him to say something like that.

"Do you need a reminder of how well things unfolded when I fell into that trap!?" Richard inhaled sharply, feeling an equally as sharp pain in his chest.

"You know, if you ever spoke to a normal, ordinary person, and tried to explain to them even the tiniest little piece of your life story, they would think you are a mentally unstable, crazy, possessed freak who just doesn't seem to be able to keep himself from trouble for longer than two seconds." Victor laughed, thinking of the mess that their lives were.

Lies. Deceit. Danger. Multiple personalities to keep up with. More lies…

Both Richard and Victor loved it. This mess - the code names, the weird talk, the encrypted messages; it was all they've ever known.

"I don't speak to normal, ordinary people, Vic. Or rather – I do, but not as my real self." Richard's voice sounded a bit painful.

"Well, you certainly spoke to _her_, as yourself." Victor shrugged, once again pointing out his affinity to Lauren.

"Wrong." Richard smiled. "There is nothing normal and ordinary about her."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"Natasha36"** I guess this current chapter gave you an answer to your question? :) Drugging her was the only way he could think of, to NOT sleep with her. Otherwise he would have been compromised. Plus, he's too much into Emily, to go sleep with someone else, even if it was, ehm, "work"-related!

**"zhangxinna"** You're welcome :)! And yes, he did drug her. This current chapter explains why he had to pick her up. Yes, it had to seem random, but he's smart enough to figure out fowl play. And YAY Angie for what she's done so far! Let's just hope things won't get...complicated!

**"rmpcmfan"** Oh, with Richard it is never random! He smells fowl play like a hawk! He's too smart to be fooled by some overly pushy brunette who isn't even remotely smilar to the woman he actually wants. And yup, Ems has set the bar, alright :)! As for Angie: she's enjoying this so much. So far, during the Academy, this is her ONLY real chance to prove herself to real Agents, so she's doing her absolute best, while remaining calm. Who knows, maybe there is also a professional side to the "Bubblehead"? ;)


	80. Shut Up And Tell Me How You Like It

** CHAPTER 80**

_**SHUT UP AND TELL ME HOW YOU LIKE IT**_

"How are you, my chicken nuggets?" Garcia asked, as soon as she replied to Emily's phone call after they had landed.

"We have survived!" Matt, walking close to Emily, leaned in and replied.

"Oh, turbulence?" Garcia pouted. She hated unstable ground and the idea of being up in the air, with no ground underneath you, while a huge machine is dangling and swaying left and right, was not something that attracted her. She hated flying.

"No. Reid on sugar, in a small confined space with no exit." JJ winced, replying back, now that Emily had put Garcia on loudspeaker.

"Oh, Lordy…" Garcia gasped, fumbling a unicorn pen in her hands.

Emily proceeded in pouring information to Garcia and asking her to double-check a few things that she had found to be a bit off, with their new case. She had spent the entire plane ride, going through the official papers that the local Police had given them, but something didn't seem right and she could not put her finger on it. Surely other people would have noticed it, too, since the FBI has been called after just one murder, as opposed to serial.

Garcia started typing away on her computer, wanting to finish her task before the team would reach the police station. That would prove to be a hard thing to do, though.

* * *

"Can you hear me?" Clara asked, hoping that Angie wouldn't pull a prank like the day before, where she had heard everything, but had chosen not to reply.

Clara was now driving the IRS car, while Angie and Belita were being taken somewhere, by the UnSub.

"Yeah…today a beauty day." Angie said in broken English, trying to make the UnSub proud of the fact that she was at least trying to speak his language.

"Good, we are leaving now and we should be on location a few minutes after you. Keep in touch if anything happens. Anything at all…" Clara informed her before making her demand.

Angie scoffed in reply. She was not a fan of being treated with delicacy.

Belita spoke in Spanish and Kevin translated for Garrett and May, while Clara drove the car to what they believed would be the place the UnSub was taking both girls.

"Eh, it not road of yesterday…" Angie pointed out when the UnSub took a completely different road, one she was not familiar with. She also believed they were not even driving in the same direction on the map.

"No, I'm taking you two somewhere special." The UnSub replied calmly.

"Is there bathroom to pee?" Angie asked, hoping to get some kind of information about the place he was taking them.

"No." The man replied shortly.

"Belita just asked if there would be any food." Kevin translated, hearing the girl speak in Spanish.

The UnSub got a bit nervous and started being rude to Belita, saying something about graduation and how she did not deserve it.

"Graduation?" May repeated, as soon as she heard that word on the line.

"He's taking them to his dumping grounds. He's going to kill them both. Graduation, in his mind that's when he wraps them in the US flag and stabs them to death." Clara commented, hitting the gas.

Angie could hear the whole conversation, but did not have any way of replying to her team without compromising her fake identity as Carmen, the Cuban girl.

"Hunter, status check?" Garrett called out, but he knew that it would be too hard to get a reply. She was stuck with a killer, inside a tiny car. How would she manage to speak without him listening in?

"I know song." Angela said. "You like songs?"

"Yea, I love music. Sing something to me." The UnSub calmed down a bit. He seemed to have it out for Belita, but he very much liked Carmen now.

"It in new language. Not know what language. I hear on radio and I repeat song." Angela shrugged before she started singing something that he would think was gibberish.

"Oδηγούμε την αντίθετη κατεύθυνση…" She started singing, her voice soft and soothing.

"What the heck?" Kevin rolled his eyes. To him that sounded like a cat, trying to survive being hit by a bus.

"Damn, smart girl. Smart girl!" Garrett said with pride oozing from his voice, before Clara shushed both of them and listened carefully.

"Θα μας σκοτώσει." Angie kept on singing. "Δεν ξέρω πού πηγαίνουμε. υπάρχει μια τεράστια καμινάδα εργοστασίων μπροστά μας."

"You have a pretty voice." The UnSub said to her with a smile.

"Gracias." Angie smiled back at him, hoping to earn a bit of trust and respect, thus earning herself a few more minutes of life, at the very least.

"Keep on singing. Please." He urged her.

"I forgot more the lyrics." Carmen blushed, masking up for Angie's lack of other things to communicate.

"It's okay. Whenever you remember, please sing some more." The UnSub replied. "And yes, Belita, there will be food. Well, not where you are going, I suppose, but we can make a stop to get you two some food and a rest-room on the way there."

"Where we go?" Belita asked, suddenly feeling brave enough to test her own English skills.

"To a place you belong." The UnSub failed to register Angie's eye roll when he spoke those words. He was so typical, such a cliché killer, it was almost nauseating.

"Oh, we eat here? It name Mis Amigos Restaurante. Like us. We friends, no?" Angie said innocently.

"Yea, we are friends." The UnSub confirmed.

"Good girl. Yes, girl!" Garrett kept on approving of Angie's tactics of communicating to the team.

They had already figured out that the UnSub had some sort of a brain, so he would have been able to figure out her schemes, if she wasn't being smart, which, she was.

"Crap, guys, we are too far out. They are literally at the other exit of Havana, that's like an hour drive from where we already are-…" May had typed the restaurant name on her tablet and the position of it was about to give her a headache.

"What the Hell, Clara!?" May got cut off by Clara's sudden U-turn, as soon as she heard they were going the wrong way.

"An hour? I don't think so. Make that half an hour." Clara hit the gas like a crazy person.

"Hey, hey…speed limits!" Garrett reminded her, but she was not even listening.

"Kevin, call the local police station that put us on the case. Tell them to track this car…oh, who am I kidding, there is no GPS in here…ugh…" Clara sighed, coming up with a better solution. "Tell them to ignore any car that is driving like crazy across the city, for the next hour or so. Please?"

Kevin busied himself with his new task, happy to be doing something other than translations, even if that was precisely why he was on the team.

"There is this one thing that you still need to share with us, Seger…" Garrett reminded her.

"Oh, oops. Sorry. She spoke in Greek and she said: We are driving the opposite direction. He is going to kill us. I don't know where we are going. There is a huge factory chimney ahead of us." Clara finally remembered that she was the only person to speak this many languages. What seemed like a given to her, was often hardly comprehensible by her team due to language barriers.

"Greek?" Garrett rose his eyebrow. "What is she, a mix of cultures and nationalities?"

"Pff, who knows _what_ she is?" Clara sighed. "I only met Angela Hunter when _you_ did, so…" She then shrugged. She knew as much about "Angela" as the rest of the team did.

"Shhh, guys." Kevin asked for silence, overhearing part of Angie's conversation with the waiter in the restaurant. "She just asked the UnSub if they could get a bottle of rum, for the graduation party."

"Good. She's thinking ahead. She'd need alcohol, to clean up the stab wounds." Garrett said calmly.

"Whoah, how on Earth are you just stating this so calmly?" Kevin asked, surprised.

"It's part of the job, kid. Welcome to our world." May shrugged. She was no new to wounds and healing.

"She knows what she signed up for. And since we made it clear that she _cannot_ fight back, having no official clearance to act as an Agent, she is making sure she'd be able to clean herself up, if she survives." Clara commented further.

"_If_ she survives?" Kevin was now freaking out.

"Are you sure you're fit to be an FBI Agent?" May asked curiously. She was usually a very calm and shy girl with people she did not know, but at this moment she found the courage to say what was on everybody's mind.

"I've been in the Academy for four weeks now. How am I going to be sure about anything?" Kevin earned himself a few disapproving looks.

Garrett would be giving him extremely negative feedback, once the case would be closed.

* * *

"Where?" Emily asked, looking at the police chief.

The team had just arrived at the police station and they were welcomed with some bad news.

"A local hunter just found it in the woods, not even half an hour ago." The man replied.

"Same MO?"

"No, looks like a completely different crime scene."

"We need to take a look anyway. Give us the location. JJ, Rossi, you're coming with me. The rest of you, call Garcia and see if she has any news for us." Emily ordered.

"Agent Prentiss, I'm afraid it's too deep in the woods. You wouldn't be able to get there on your own, unless a local accompanies you." The police chief said with small voice, hoping he wouldn't strike a nerve with an FBI Agent by telling her she was unable to follow GPS coordinates, especially if that GPS would surely stop working halfway through the woods.

Emily nodded and got inside a police car, along with JJ and Rossi, allowing two local policemen to drive them to the scene.

When they reached the location, Emily was in shock.

"Who are all those people?" She asked, scanning her surroundings.

Random people were walking around and they most definitely did not seem to be working the crime scene.

"Family, friends…" The policeman who took them there, replied.

"What do you mean _family, friends_?" Emily looked up to the sky, as if to beg the Gods to not allow her to have a hysterical fit. "Are you completely oblivious to the existence of protocol on a crime scene?"

"Uhm, we couldn't stop them…" The man shrugged.

"Jesus, the first thing you do is to secure the damn crime scene!" Emily raised her tone and it took a friendly nudge from Rossi, to make her calm down and pretend like she wasn't too pissed.

Walking closer, she noticed two things. One – the scene had been contaminated long before they had gotten there. And two – the body found was of a young man, who, at first look, had nothing in common with the previous victim – a young woman.

Emily kneeled by him and bit her lips, examining what she could only pray to turn out to be legit evidence. There was a used paper tissue left by his side and it could easily be from one of the people who knew him and cried when they saw him dead. There were tons of visible footprints and, at this point, it was useless to go search for any leads, using those. Surely, they would find diverse fibers and fingerprints on the body, as well. This was doomed from the get go.

"Take it easy, Emily." Rossi whispered to her.

"Easy? How exactly do I do that?" Emily held her cheeks with both hands, feeling them burning with rage.

"It's probably not even connected to our victim, anyway." Rossi suggested, but the policeman quickly informed them that the last homicide in their town had been five years ago and it had been over a family dispute and got resolved quickly. They had never experienced anything like this before – two victims in the span of a few days.

"It must be connected. They always are…" Emily sighed. "God, I promised we'd never let this turn into serial…"

"Hey? It's not our fault. We are doing our best." Rossi frowned, knowing perfectly well how much Emily would keep on blaming herself.

"Sure. Yeah. We're doing a great job." Her ironic tone did not go unnoticed and she did gesture with her hand, over to the dead man's body.

"Can we at least establish an approximate time of death?" She asked, having already spotted the coroner's car, randomly left in the vicinity.

"Madam, it's somewhere between one and three pm, yesterday." A man came up from behind her and let them know he had done an initial inspection of the body, before all the civilians had arrived.

"We weren't even invited in, at that time…" Rossi started off, but Emily was having none of it.

"Makes me feel just wonderful." She stated, walking away. She needed to collect herself before continuing. Her judgment was clouded and it was hardly a good thing for the Unit Chief to be so reckless, at the crime scene.

* * *

The UnSub was giving Carmen and Belita a speech on how amazing their graduation would be, while the girls ate their burgers. He had explained that it would be awesome and they would get what they deserve, for having studied so hard. Angie found that to be a bit too weird, given that he only knew her for a day and they had done a very brief lesson on grammar, but Belita knew him longer, so maybe the UnSub wanted to get rid of both girls, at the same time, before finding himself a new victim. Maybe they weren't what he was looking for.

"Παρακαλώ πες μου ότι μπορώ να σπάσω το κεφάλι του?" Angie burst out singing again.

Clara clenched her jaw, but chose not to let her team know that Angie just asked permission to smash this guy's head.

"Do you want to sing the Cuban national anthem at your graduation?" The UnSub asked, considering Carmen's love for singing.

"I want sing American song." She stated.

"Oh, okay. Let's sing the US National anthem together, then." He then started teaching her the words.

"How far are we?" Garrett asked May who was tracking their progress, using a paper map, since her tablet had long lost connection.

"At least forty minutes away, and that's if Clara keeps driving like a maniac." May pouted, holding onto the map tightly.

"God damn it, not now!" Clara groaned in annoyance when her phone started buzzing. However, when she saw the caller ID, she knew she _had_ to pick up.

"Yes?" She said, more them grumpily.

"Hello to you, too, my love." The person on the other side of the line greeted Clara.

"What do you want?" Clara adjusted her Bluetooth earpiece, making sure the sound was low enough so that her colleagues would not overhear anything. Especially when she was expecting the other person to start shouting at her within a couple of seconds.

"You know what I want."

"It's all good." Clara said vaguely.

"Is she okay?"

"Uhm…"

"Is she with you?"

"Negative."

"Is she in danger?"

"Uh-huh."

"Am I going to want to kill you after this stunt?"

"Mhm…"

"Do I even want to keep asking you things?"

"Nope."

"Woman, what have you done?"

"Me? Nothing."

"Speak, Seger!"

"I can't really be having any personal calls right now. I'm in the middle of a case, one of our assets has kind of been kidnapped." Clara didn't notice it, but with each question she received, her foot hit the gas pedal a little harder.

"Oh, let me guess which asset that would be?" The other person said, sarcastically.

"The asset would be just fine."

"Clara, nothing can happen to that child, do you understand me!?"

"Affirmative." Clara scoffed, trying to whisper her next words. "And she's not a child anymore."

"I am going to burn in Hell as a sweet consequence of me murdering you gruesomely, if a single hair falls off her pretty little head, is that understood?"

"Mhm."

"Can I help in any way?"

"Nope."

"Where are you?"

"I can't discuss my current location with anyone, it's protocol."

"Protocol, my ass." The other person scoffed.

"Don't worry, my love. I know what I'm doing."

"Okay. Guess I'm gonna have to trust you…and regret that later."

"Come on, that's not fair of you to say! Have I ever failed you?"

Clara was taking a bit too long on that personal call, during work, which did not sit well with Garrett, who was completely oblivious as to what that conversation was all about.

"Gotta go…"

"Sure, save your soul, Love."

"Seriously, I'm here with my team."

"Like I haven't figured that out, already."

"Stop being an ass and start giving me the credit I need. Love you. Bye!" With those words Clara hung up and gave her undivided attention to the road.

* * *

"What did I miss?" Emily asked, walking back to the team after a few minutes of pacing and trying to get back to normal. She hated the fact that there was a second victim and they were unable to find a connection.

"He seems to have been a normal kid. Graduated high school two years ago, started working in construction with his uncle, supported his family of four after their dad left, not long after graduation. He was smart, wanted to go to college, but he needed to provide for his mom and two younger siblings." JJ summed up what she had managed to gather from the relatives, despite their state of shock.

"I called Tara, she said Garcia didn't have any news for us. It's still all a big mystery." Rossi said hesitantly, hoping the bad news wouldn't send Emily back into her previous state. Which, they did.

"Damn it! Can _one_ thing go our way today?" Emily scoffed, speaking to herself.

"Prentiss, I think you may need to make JJ an assistant on this one…" Rossi suggested.

It couldn't possibly bother Emily to hear that, since just days ago she had come to the same conclusion – she needed someone with a good head, out there on the field. Someone who wouldn't be afraid to cross out her suggestions and to fire out new orders, if that meant the safety of the team would not get compromised.

"No. I can do this on my own." She stated.

"Don't say I didn't warn you…" Rossi walked away.

Sometimes it was hard for him to go head to head with a headstrong Emily Prentiss.

* * *

"Are you insane!?" A female voice shouted in the semi-darkness of a basement.

A door opened and she saw the shadowy figure of a tall, well-built man, walking towards her.

"You mean, officially, like on paper…" He spoke. "Or, like, right here, right now, protecting the people you are after?"

"Does it matter? I have a good feeling the answer would be the same!" She grunted, her hands were sore from the rope that secured her to a chair.

"Well, I haven't yet been pronounced clinically insane, officially. Let's just say that I'm very good at hiding it, among other things."

"So I've noticed!" The woman hissed back at him.

"What do you want from her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The woman tried to shrug, despite the restraints. She was barely able to move.

"Cut the crap. Who sent you and what do you want?"

"Like I said – I don't know what you're talking about."

"Alright, you like it rough? You have no idea just how rough I like to give it to a naughty player like you." He smirked in her face, remembering how hard she had come on to him last night. It had been embarrassing. So desperate, so direct, so obvious.

He grabbed her hand and twisted her pointy finger backwards until she screamed with pain.

"Oh, low pain tolerance? Come on, this is no fun!" He pouted.

"I advise you to stop." She said through gritted teeth.

"Oh yeah? I thought you wanted to play." He was not a fan of torture, but for the people he was protecting, he would gladly turn into a monster, any time, any day.

"Yes, with the girl. Not with _you_!" She cringed and looked away.

It took Richard a moment to analyze her words before he panicked.

"Wait…who are you really after?"

"Do I have to spell out her name to you?" The woman was now pissed. She hadn't signed up for this. Her boss had told her it would be an easy operation, to obtain information.

"How about I spell it out for you – M. Who is he?" Richard requested.

"How the Hell would I know!?" The way she replied made him wonder – did she have any clue what he was talking about? It didn't sound like she was in the loop.

"You have approximately five seconds to spill it or else…" He held a knife in one hand, praying to God that he wouldn't need to use it.

"Mark my words – you are going to regret this!" She said before she looked away again, preparing for the torture.

"Don't play hard to crack. They always crack in the end. Question is – just how much torture can one sustain before they pass out? Huh? Have you ever tested your limits? Or…" He leaned in and played the seductive card. "Or…am I your first?"

She refused to speak another word.

Richard was now faced with one option – hurting that woman. And somehow, he dreaded having to do it.

"It wasn't _you_ in the car who followed me here, the other night. I saw a man driving and another man sitting next to him. Who are they? Why were you asking about my wife, or the person I'm with?"

She laughed. Oh, he got it all so wrong.

"Do you find any of this funny?" He groaned. Women had a way of getting on his nerves, on the job.

"We are not interested in any of the people you mentioned." She said calmly.

And then he remembered how she had mentioned a 'girl'. Yes, he had dated women, younger than him, but none of them would be called a 'girl'. They were all grown up women. So why would she say _that_ word?

"What the Hell do you want? The sooner you tell me, the less you suffer."

"Is that how you guys operate? Torturing people? Wow, you have a completely different name out there, in the world." She smirked. She knew that so far she had the upper hand.

He thought for a second. Different name? Louis was known as one of the most dangerous people in the Mob World. Richard, however, had the name of a sweet guy. And Richard, the Boss, had the fame of a great leader, a man who gets the job done. So, which 'him' was she referring to? Did she know who he _really_ was? Was she not talking about Louis?

"Keeping me in the basement, huh? Real classy!" She was trying to work him up and he knew it. He wouldn't cave in.

"If you had kept your pants on last night, you wouldn't be here." He replied calmly.

"Sorry. You, out of all people, should know the job comes with certain…ehm, sacrifices."

The job? He eyed her up and down and thought about her behavior. If she really was connected to Zenum, she wouldn't be speaking this way. She also had an accent, like she wasn't French, but she spoke the language fluently. And she looked a bit too calm, on that chair, like she knew that someone was coming to save her and it was a matter of time - time that she was stalling for.

"Who do you work for?"

"Oh, Richard, I'm afraid I can't tell you. You know, job requirements." She winked at him.

When she pronounced his real name, he froze. It was confirmation enough that she wasn't one of Zenum's people. Then again, nobody knew Richard as the violent person he was acting as. It threw him off.

"Confused?" She teased him.

"Woman, you better start talking!" He put the knife down. Now that he was sure she knew who he really was, he was much more adamant to the use of power. Torture was no longer an option.

"Who do _you_ work for, Richard?"

To that question of hers, he knew he could not reply. And then it hit him.

"Oh my God! You're foreign intelligence?" He asked, but it was really more of a statement.

She just smiled at him.

"Why wouldn't you just identify yourself if you knew who I was?"

"Because then you'd never tell me where she is."

"And I still won't tell you. But you could have, maybe, spared yourself some torture!"

"Oh, Richard…I like playing rough. I like the adrenaline. Just like her…"

"Shut up! Don't talk about her, okay!?"

"You know, you're kind of cute when you're all worked up. It's a shame last night turned out to be a disaster. I would have enjoyed some of…that…" Her eyes trailed up and down his body hungrily.

He shook his head. Women sometimes disgusted him, with those things they said.

"What's your interest in her?" He switched the topic back to the only thing that mattered to him.

"Like I said, I'm not at liberty to say."

"And I'm still at liberty to carve your face like a pumpkin if I deem that necessary. And you're making it extremely easy for me to decide to do just that."

"Oh, Richard. You'd _never_ hurt a woman, as Richard himself. Isn't that all you ever stood for? Isn't that why you're going to such great lengths to protect your precious little Bella?"

He felt his heat drop to the sole of his shoe, the second he heard that name. Bella? So this was about _her_?

"Bella is out, for good. You would know that if you had done your research. Now, if you tell me who the Hell you work for, I can make arrangements and send you someone else to help you out. But I need to know what this is about."

"We don't want anyone else. We want your girl. She's the only one for the job and my, well, my Superiors, have requested _her_."

"Well, you are not getting _her_."

"Then I guess next time we see each other it would be you, in a basement, with me and my Superiors torturing the crap out of you until you tell us where to find her."

"Yeah, sure. That seems very likely to happen." He rolled his eyes. This conversation was going nowhere.

"You're forgetting that I know who you are. And you have no idea who I am, what I do and who I work for. Now, tell me, Richard…who has the advantage here?"

It was true, he hated to admit it.

"I'm done with this." He threw his hands in the air and took out his cell phone. "Is there anyone I can call, to verify your identity, so I can get rid of you and let you go back to wherever you came from? Or, and please don't let this be the case, do I have to keep you here for weeks?"

"Richard, you know that, with what we do, once we're out there, we're on our own. There is no big bad wolf to come rescue me and you are certainly not getting info on my…uhm, organization."

"Fine then. How do you want your pizza?"

"Huh?"

"Your pizza? Please don't be vegan! Having a vegan hostage is a pain in the ass and I ain't doing this all over again. You're getting pizza - normal pizza, with normal dough, not gluten free. Just tell me the toppings you like."

She laughed. "Wow, you really _are_ a nice guy, as they say."

"Too nice. Now shut up and tell me how you like it!"

"Oh, damn, why didn't you say those words to me last night, baby?"

"Stop being a smart ass or you're getting a plain Margherita!"

"How about you give it to me, the way Lauren likes it?" She challenged him. "The pizza, I mean, of course…"

Once again, his heart dropped. Lauren? So, she knew he was Richard and she knew about Lauren and she called the other one 'Bella'? This didn't make any sense. The name combination was completely wrong.

"Lauren likes it hot." He whispered. "The pizza, of course." He added. But that was most definitely not how he meant it, in his mind.

"Oh, she screwed you over again, didn't she?" She smirked.

Richard then realized that this woman had no idea what had happened between him and Lauren. It was _him_ who had screwed her over.

"Please, tell me who I can call, so I can get rid of you?" He groaned in annoyance.

When he had told Victor that he was off for a few days, to clear his head, it had been because of this mess. It was work-related, he had to lure some people out of the city and deal with them in the privacy of this rented beach house. And yet, he had been stupid enough to allow himself to believe it was real – an actual little vacation away from his life and his job. He needed a few hours of silence, coffee and some alone time on that veranda. This was all he needed. And having this woman in the basement was proving to be worse than he had anticipated.

"Fine then, stay quiet all you want. You're getting a damn Margherita and I'm going to enjoy my day under the sun, while I make a few thousand phone calls until I figure out who the Hell you work for, so they can come get you out of here." He stated after snapping a picture of her face, so he can cross-reference that to any database and organization he knew of.

"I thought you liked opinionated women. Isn't that why you are so fond of Bella and so obsessed with Lauren?"

"Say one more word and you'll be eating the air around you for breakfast, lunch and dinner, before I figure out who I can bounce you off to!" He said grumpily before leaving the basement.

He made sure he locked the door properly before he walked up the stairs. He was just on time, as he heard the doorbell.

"Good Lord!" He cringed when he opened up and saw someone.

"I am here to entertain you…" The woman said loudly, as if she wanted anyone down the street to overhear, before she trailed her hand down his arm seductively.

"Also, damn it, I've been waiting here for like two whole minutes, wearing this crap! Do you know how many people checked out my barely covered bum? It's embarrassing! Let me in!" She whispered once she leaned closer to him.

He had asked Victor to send him one of the females, to keep him company and to work with him, from the house. The woman had to act like she was an escort, so that nobody would get suspicious when someone entered his house. And she really did look the part, sadly.

Richard cringed, allowing her to walk in.

"Sasha, I'm so sorry…" He muttered.

"It's okay, Boss. I figure, since you said my name, this pace isn't bugged and we can talk freely?" She smiled at him.

"Yeah, yeah. It's all good. I had it all wrong, though. Apparently, this has nothing to do with Zenum. That's not who is after us. And they're not after _us_, actually." He said, grabbing a blanket from the sofa and enwrapping her with it. He did not feel comfortable seeing this much of her and he didn't want her to feel weird, having to be so vulnerable and weird-looking in front of her Boss.

"Then what the Hell is going on?" She asked, placing a small bag on the floor.

"I have no idea. Sasha, please tell me you have actual clothes in here?" He pointed at the bag and she laughed.

"Yes, Boss. I have a tracksuit and a beach bikini. That's all I need."

"No pajama?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Boss, relax!" She kept on laughing. Something about his jumpiness seemed off.

"Boss, what's really going on? You seem…oddly upset."

"Sasha…forget Zenum. Last night a woman came over, asking about some people from my past. I thought it was just general questions, but then this morning, actually just now, which is why I hadn't heard that you were at the door, she admitted it's not us, not me, not Zenum, that they're after."

"Then who?" Sasha kicked her stilettos off. "Also, I hate hooked heels. So uncomfortable. Please don't ever give me an assignment like this again!"

"I didn't give it to _you_. I asked Victor to send me someone and he must have chosen _you_." Richard shrugged.

"Why!? I was the only one who didn't want this assignment! I was quite vocal about it, too. I might have told your assistant that I'd rip him open if he assigned me and he did so, nonethless. So, he might take this to court, since I threatened him. Boss, will you throw in a good word for me?" She dramatized and it made him laugh.

"_That's_ why he sent you." He replied shortly. Victor had been instructed to send the girl who wanted none of this, so he would be sure he wouldn't have to deal with another desperate woman in skimpy clothing. "And, well, they're after Bella…"

"Annabelle!? Really? After all this time? But, she's…" Sasha thought for a second, to get her facts right. "She's been inactive for a while now."

"Exactly. And she's not even here anymore. As far as I know, she's happy where she is right now, she's doing what she always wanted to do. I can't have her come back, especially if I'm not going to be able to supervise her progress with an assignment. This is not an option! And yet, the woman I'm keeping in the basement is a pain in the ass and she won't tell me who she works for, so I can verify it and let her go. So now I'm stuck with her and with you, no offense, and all I really wanted was a day of freaking silence!"

"Ooh, Boss. Someone sounds a bit worked up." Sasha was sweet, she was someone who liked to joke and who always pushed Richard's buttons. He was kind of glad Victor had chosen _her_.

"Why don't you go get comfortable. Your room is the one down the hall, to the left. There's everything you need, there are fresh towels if you'd like to scrub the shame of having to walk in public, wearing those awful clothes. Get some sleep. Do whatever. And if you're hungry, let me know. I now have to order pizza for a hostage I don't even want to keep, so I might as well get some food for us as well, even if it is quite early for a lunch."

"Boss, breathe!" Sasha put her hand on his shoulder and smiled. "I know it must be hard for you, having someone come for Bella after so long, but you did the right thing and so far you've kept her safe. Plus, you have a whole bunch of us, crazy people, to help you with it. She was like a sister to me, I'd never let anyone touch that girl! Come on, relax. Maybe _you're_ the one who needs a shower and a nap. I'll order the pizza and I'll prepare us some coffee. Please, go take a shower. I'll see you in the living room in an hour, or I'll just call out for you when pizza is delivered, okay? Now I'll go shower and change before I get used to those horrible clothes. My husband is never getting this fantasy of his, fulfilled. Although, I do have the costume, already, so…"

"Sasha!" Richard put his hands on his ears and started mumbling something to himself, on the way to his room.

He had a very close relationship with a lot of the people that worked for him. He was like a big brother, or a fatherly figure, to many of them, Sasha included. So, to hear her say such things, made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

And Sasha was a smart one. She knew exactly what to say, to get Richard to walk out of there and go have some alone time. He needed it.

"Oh and Sasha?" He called out from down the hall. "Thank you."

"For what, Boss?"

"For being you." He replied simply before walking into the room and grabbing a towel.

He needed that shower and he needed to hear nothing but silence around him. It really did help calm him down. He was also thankful that, a whole hour later, she hadn't yet called out for him. He could not be happier with the crappy delivery times, as every minute that the pizza boy was late, was one more minute of peace for him.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"Spooladio" **This is a friend-check. Everything alright? Hope you're good and being safe!**  
**

**rmpcmfan"** Precisely, it was work-related. And "they" need "her", but Richard only just figured out exactly which "her" they are referring to. Wow, good memory - the person who saw Emily in Paris that week, and called her Catherine, will be explained later on! And oh, Emily is far from normal lol, I kind of picture her a bit...naughty, in her private affairs, hahaha (Sorry, I've seen Paget Brewster in HUFF, enough said, hehe!)! And she sure drops heaps of innuendos when she speaks. As for Angie, girl sure knows how to take care of herself. But don't mistake her confidence for strength - you never know what she's hiding inside. In fact, right after the IRS she opens up to an unexpected someone, about her life, past and the things that really scare her (which is a huge part of this story). PS: Your review was the 200th for the story, WOW, thank you :)!

**"Natasha36"** A gentleman who just drugged the lady he invited over :P hehe! Richard's "her" is someone important to him, that's all I can say for now;)! Clara's "her" comment was referred to the character that Angie is pretending to be. And hehe, things are never smooth with the FBI, so I'm sure you'll get what you're expecting with Angie. PS: You always catch the good hints that I throw in between the lines, good job!

**"zhangxinna"** Thanks, you're such a sweetheart :)! Well, you wouldn't need to wonder too long - things with Angie's first case are about to get real! And LOL no, Richard is not a psycho, but he can definitely be ruthless. And by the way, thanks for placing the image of Richard as a bartender in my head :P lol! Now I'll go to bars, looking for a French bartender and I'll stalk his bum-bum, calling him Richard, until I get thrown out of the bar (obviously when quarantine is lifted) Hehehe!

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Thank you, it really is super nice to get feedback, especially right now when I do all of my communicating through the internet because of Quarantine! There is nothing nicer for a writer than to have this two-way communication with his/her readers! I really enjoy hearing everyone's thoughts, as I keep saying lol. As for Angie: things will be blurry and will barely make sense for a while. She is the master of denial and she will go on until someone potentially gets hurt. Her back-story is what holds the pieces of the entire story, together. Now, as Angie always says: "Chin up, beautiful! The world deserves to see you smile!" - in regards to you feeling worn out. I hope this weekend you were able to finally relax and spend some quality time, doing the things you enjoy doing. And you now have a long chapter to (I hope!) enjoy reading and it includes one more unexpected direction that I'm leading you guys to! Also, I replied to your inbox, too.


	81. You Need To Snap Out Of It

** CHAPTER 81**

_**YOU NEED TO SNAP OUT OF IT**_

Angie excused herself from the table and went to use the bathroom. Making sure nobody else could get in, she started talking to her team. God bless whoever invented the ear piece system.

"Guys? Can you hear me? I only have a few seconds. I don't know where he is taking us. He keeps talking about our graduation. I think he's going after Belita first, he seems to dislike her. That's bad, because if I can't fight back, I won't be able to stop him from killing her. Or he might kill _me_ first, since I'm clearly the stronger one. He might think I'll run away while he kills her, yeah, so I might go first."

"Stay calm. Whatever happens, try to communicate your location to us. We're still twenty minutes away from the restaurant." Garrett replied to her.

"Yeah, but we are about to leave _now_, so we'll be going further away. It will take you more time to catch up." Angie argued.

"Don't worry. We have your back!" Clara knew how pointless those words were. She also knew that they would put a big smile on Angie's face, when she heard them. And they did.

"Oh, if anything happens, tell-…" Angie got cut off.

"Nothing will happen! You and Belita will be just fine and you will be starting your next week at the Academy unharmed. I promise you!" Clara said quickly.

"Excuse Agent Seger, who clearly has no idea about protocol and the absolute prohibition to promise things that are out of our hands." Garrett pointed out. In all honesty, he was right.

"I can take care of myself. I just can't do that with my arms cuffed by FBI protocol shit and all that…" Angie sighed, pointing out one more time how she hated being unable to fight back.

"Do not even raise your hand, kid! We can't protect you in court if you fight. You don't want a killer to jeopardize your whole career by filing a lawsuit against you, do you?" Garrett, once again, spoke the truth.

"Uff, fine then. I'll let him kill me. Tell Bryan he's the coolest dude I've ever met. And that I don't like him like _that_, but he does have a fine ass." Angie dramatized.

"You can't fight him with your hands, but you are a smart kid. Outsmart him!" Clara pointed out. "Use the fact that he likes you, to your advantage. Be charming, talk to him, try to get in his head. Buy us some time. We're coming for you, Jess!"

"Jess?" Kevin gave Clara a confused look.

"Ugh, I'm really bad with names. Sorry." Clara excused herself, but Garrett and May knew her better. Clara was extremely good with names, she suffered with dates and she'd occasionally skip on giving someone congrats on their birthday, but she knew names and she wouldn't ever get confused, especially not while on a case.

* * *

Angie walked out of her bathroom stall, only to find Belita, staring back at her with her jaw dropped. The girl had walked in to wash her hands and had heard Angie whispering in English, inside one of the stalls.

"What did she just say?" Garrett asked, hearing Angie speak in Spanish, still not knowing she was talking to Belita.

"She said: _Don't worry. There is no time to explain. I'm not going to hurt you. Please don't tell him_." Clara translated.

"Crap! Did our victim just bust our whole operation?" Garrett shifted uncomfortably.

"Possibly. Yes." Clara confirmed.

"Now it's up to the kid to play it smart. Otherwise they're both gone before we even figure out where he's taking them." Garrett kept staring at Clara as he spoke.

May and Kevin kept quiet, in the back seat until Kevin had to translate Belita's frantic questions, most importantly about who Carmen was and why she spoke perfect English.

"No, no, no. She can't trust Belita! Telling her who she is would put her in danger immediately. She's not trained to keep quiet and act normal in such situations." Garrett commented. "God, I hope Hunter is not as airhead as she looks!"

"Jesus, people...you do realize I can hear all that side chatter, right!?" Angie broke off her Carmen persona, finally replying to the team. She had been able to hear everything and Garrett's last words were what had pushed her over the edge.

"Great. Now Belita is asking Angie who she's talking to. She's busted for having an ear piece." Kevin translated.

"Will everyone shut up and let her breathe!?" Clara finally rose her voice.

"Man, you sound sexy when you're all worked up, you little firecracker." Angie chuckled, speaking to Clara and not giving a damn that everyone else would hear her.

"She's now telling Belita that it is better for her to not know anything and that she should keep her secret if she wants to be safe." Kevin kept on translating.

The conversation was a huge mess. Everyone was connected and could hear everything. At times, it was hard to even tell who was speaking and what was happening.

To top it all - the UnSub walked in the bathroom, making sure the girls were not going to escape him.

Angie stopped speaking and she followed him to his car, holding Belita's hand and dragging her behind her. The poor girl was as scared as she was confused. In her eyes, Angie was now the bad guy. Her gullible soul believed that the UnSub was really some magical prince charming who wanted what was best for her.

* * *

"I found it! I searched the oceans and underneath the lava from every volcano. And it did seem impossible. But I found it. I did! Because this is what I do - I find things that are not meant to be found!"

"Garcia, out with it!" Emily spat out, showing her the bad mood she was currently in.

Garcia then gave them some useful information that allowed them to link those two victims, but sadly it failed to assist them in figuring out what the next victim might look like. The only thing they could somewhat be sure of was that it would be someone young. But whether it would be a male or a female, remained a mystery. The female victim had only moved to that small town a couple of years ago, while the male victim was native, so that ruled out the possibility that the UnSub would only choose locals.

"Thank you, Garcia." Emily said politely before she hung up.

The part of the team that had remained at the police station, wrote down the information they thought was useful for cracking the case, while Emily, JJ and Rossi followed the Coroner's car to the morgue.

Finally having some privacy, Emily hovered on top of the victim's body, with some new expression on her face - something her colleagues doubted having seen ever before.

"I still don't see it. Two victims, a slight hint of a connection and two completely different MOs. We are hardly looking at two killers, operating at the same time. So, what is it?" Rossi's question received no reply.

"Adler..." Emily spoke softly, brushing her hand against the deceased boy's now cold palm. "That was his name. He just turned nineteen. A child..."

JJ could not take this. Being a mother of two boys, this scene was a bit too much for her to handle, so she simply squinted her eyes and walked out of the room. She would later blame that on a sudden need of caffeine, in case anyone asked.

If anyone had to stay and tame down Emily's daemons, it would surely have to be Rossi.

"Emily, this is not _her_ and you are _not_ responsible for this death, like you were _not_ responsible for hers." Rossi reminded her, but her eyes were glued to the boy's face and that scary unknown expression was still all over her face.

"Emily...you need to talk to someone. _Anyone_. It doesn't have to be one of us, or even anyone you know. I'm sorry, I love you, but I must be strict with you about this. You need to snap out of it."

"I'm fine..." She muttered, doubting her own words.

"You usually end up in a hospital after each time you try to convince any of us of _that_. So…" Rossi shrugged.

His eyes had only briefly landed on the boy's face, they were much more interested in the interaction Emily had with his hand. The scene itself, had to be disturbing. However, Rossi found it quite…sentimental. There was a certain…_something_ about Emily's actions. A certain sadness in her eyes. A certain melancholy. A certain pain that not everyone can relate to or empathize with.

At some point he noticed how Emily had detached herself from reality and was now fully immersed into a world only _she_ knew what was happening in. Her eyes were dark, half squinted, like she was refusing to take in the reality. Her hand kept on brushing softly against the skin of the boy's palm, as if that gesture would give him any comfort in his misery.

"Emily, you are _not_ fine…" He attempted to reason with her, with the same result he had gotten more times than he could count.

She ignored him completely, still unable to even register his presence next to her. Emily tended to have those dark, detached moments, when she would be completely numb and spaced out. They usually lasted anywhere from a minute to an hour, and they usually only occurred when she had the opportunity to walk off and get some privacy while they pass. However, this time, she did not seem bothered by Rossi's presence at all. She was acting as if he wasn't even there and he wondered if that was what somnambulism resembled – acting strange, in a state of trance, unable to see the real world around you.

A few seconds later, they were urged to leave and the sounding thud of the door opening finally brought Emily back to Earth.

* * *

Angie asked, once again, where they were being taken, and got one more vague answer about a certain graduation ceremony at a special place. At this point, asking a third time would only raise suspicion.

Belita had, so far, been doing well with keeping her mouth shut and Angie was acting calm and collected, pretending to be Carmen.

The car came to a stop at a remote wooded area, as Angie had figured it would. The problem was – she had no idea how to communicate their location to her team. There were many little roads on the way there and a while back they had gone off-road anyway. That, plus the lack of landmarks, helped for a difficult explanation.

"Status check, Hunter?" Clara called out, but Angie did not reply.

Belita got out of the car first, followed by the UnSub and, finally, Angie. It had taken her a few more seconds to scan their surroundings, in desperate hopes of maybe finding something she could communicate to the team.

She noticed the UnSub took a large bag from the trunk of his car and it made her roll her eyes. He really was way too obvious and Belita was kind of dumb, if she had to be honest with herself.

He then took the girls further in the forest, looking around nervously, as if to make sure nobody would be there to bust his plans. A large cloth was then sprawled on the ground and he asked the girls to sit down.

He handed each girl a piece of paper with a few grammar exercises to fill in and a short text, which he then would ask them to read out loud. Angie sighed with relief when she saw him handle her a pen, already imagining all the places she could stab him with it, if she needed to defend herself. But Garrett's annoying voice sounded in the back of her head, telling her not to even dare touch the UnSub. How was that any fair? Sure, it would count as defense, but she would still be held accountable for her actions, in court, and that would mean the end of her Bureau career, before she would even have the chance to start it.

Belita was acting weird, being all fidgety and quiet. The UnSub pinned that on nerves from having to take her final English exam, even though she had only taken a few classes. How was she dumb enough to believe his scheme?

Angie busied herself with the papers, filling in everything slowly, making sure she'd have enough mistakes.

When it was time to read, Angie went first and the UnSub was impressed, even though she did the crappiest accent she could possibly imagine. Then, as Belita read, he kept on wincing and rolling his eyes. Everything pointed to Angie being his favorite since the moment he introduced her to Belita. That might not be such a bad thing for Belita, in the long run.

"Okay, now that I've reviewed your final exams, only one of you is fit to graduate. Congratulations, Pilar! You are now worthy of the US flag." Something about his behavior was odd.

A minute ago, he seemed normal, while grading the papers. He had been quiet as the girls read the texts, too. And at that moment, Angie saw a change – his eyes were darker, his breathing got heavier and he was looking at them differently. He had just called her Pilar, so God knows what was on this man's mind.

"Pilar! Monty, run that name." Garrett gave out an order, listening on the other side of the line, as Clara drove the car to a location they could only hope Angie would be at.

"Monty?" The line between the team and their data analyst back at Quantico went dead. "Fine then, May, please run the name?" Garrett asked, as nicely as he could, under pressure.

"Pilar…okay, it's quite a common name in Cuba…" May started, clicking on her tablet and receiving an overwhelming amount of information.

"No, try the US!" Clara suggested.

"Okay, Pilar in the US. There are quite a bunch of Pilar-named women in Florida, for obvious reasons…" May started off, but Angela, surprisingly, interrupted her with an idea.

"Students!" Angie whispered on the line.

"Huh?" The UnSub somehow heard her and was now curious what she meant.

"I am Pilar, the student." Angie smiled, playing his own little game.

If the UnSub mentioned that name, it must be important to him. Maybe if she pretended to be that girl, they could learn more. She was, after all, the master of playing a character brilliantly.

"Yes, baby. You are my beautiful Cuban girl, my best student yet." The UnSub replied to her and it was at that moment when she realized he was fantasizing, imagining each one of his students to be a certain Pilar girl that, she assumed, he once knew.

"Bingo! Pilar Romero, 17 years old, Cuban native, went to America on an exchange student program, to study English." May read. "Filed a restraining order against a teacher that she claimed was abusive. Nobody believed her, as she didn't speak English well and she did not have many friends. Two weeks later, she disappeared, only to be found one more week later, dead…oh my God…"

"What?" Clara jumped at the gas pedal once more.

"Cause of death – multiple stab wounds with a knife. She was found in an alley that lead to her dorm building, the day before graduation from the exchange student program…" May stuttered. "And she was naked, rolled in the US flag."

"Who was the professor she filed against?" Garret asked quickly.

"Rodney Phelan, thirty-eight, from Twin Falls, Idaho. He worked as an English teacher in a school for immigrants in the area, as there are a lot of factories that hire foreign staff, so they can pay less money. Anyway. He got kicked out a year ago after a girl complained about him making advances. She was seventeen. It was later ruled as a joke, but he never got his job back." May summed it all up and it was pretty much all the info there was out there, on this guy.

"So, Professor Phelan, which girl graduating today?" Angie asked, out of the blue.

He did not even register that something was off. He was so deep into his fantasy that even when she called him by his real name – one that he had never disclosed to either one of the girls, he remained completely apathetic.

"Are you out of your damn mind, kid!?" Garrett groaned, hearing how Angie just randomly rolled his name off her tongue.

"Shh. Let her play it out!" Clara scolded him and it warmed Angie's heart to hear that someone actually believed in her.

Angie looked at him with doe eyes, waiting for him to state the obvious – it would have to be _her_ who would get to graduate earlier. She could take his torture, Belita could not, so this was the perfect scenario.

However, after giving it some thought, the UnSub surprised her by pointing a finger at Belita, instead.

"But, I better on English than Belita!" Angie tried to argue, knowing that graduation meant torture and death for one of them. Belita was the victim, _she_ was the one Angie had to save, not her own self.

"Because you lie." Belita said rudely.

"I don't like liars." Rodney gave Angie a stern look.

"She know English. I hear her in bathroom. She talk to someone." Belita uttered and Angie remained calm, surprisingly.

"I was practicing." Angie said in her defense.

"No, you talk like American girls. I hear you much clear." Belita said and, despite her bad English, Angie's undercover was blown into pieces.

"So, we have an imposter?" Rodney raised an eyebrow. "You are not Pilar?" He asked, as if coming to that conclusion surprised him in any way.

And yet, it did. It surprised him to the point where his fantasy was shattered and Angie quickly turned from his favorite student, to his enemy.

She saw him brush his hands against the side pocket of his jeans and there was no doubt in her head that this was where he was concealing his knife. With his other hand, he grabbed the edge of a cloth from one of his oversized bags and pulled on it, revealing the US flag.

"Who are you?" He asked angrily, grabbing her throat and making her gag instantly.

"Car- Carmen." She said, trying to catch her breath once he released his grasp.

"You're lying! I wanted you to be Pilar!" He kept on yelling at her.

"I not lie. I am Carmen. Fun fact, I think me saw a sign here, near pond, sign says Carmella."

"There is no sign, saying Carmella, you stupid idiot. We're in Guanabacoa."

"Guanabacoa park pretty. I like lake, but there is old harbor thing over there, it ugly. But park pretty!" Angie spoke.

"Damn it, I love that kid!" Garrett said out loud, hearing all the indications Angie was finally able to give them.

It took May a few seconds to find the exact location of the old abandoned harbor by the lake, and Clara was already on her way there, driving like an insane person.

"Keep stalling, kid!" Garrett ordered, hoping that the line between the IRS team and Angie was still open, unlike the failed attempt of a phone call they had earlier with Monty.

"Ten minutes!" Clara informed them and she would surely make that _six_ minutes, by breaking every single rule on the road.

It was the moment that the UnSub took his knife out, that Belita understood who the enemy really was. She started crying and walking backwards, as if to escape him, but he was quick enough to grab her and give her a nasty stab in the leg, making sure she wouldn't be able to go much further while he would be busy with Carmen's so called 'Graduation'.

He leaned over Angie, holding his hand in the air. She did not even wince. That confused him. Was he not doing it right?

Her eyes refused to give him any attention, and they were glued to Belita, who was now curled into a ball, near them, crying on the ground and holding her leg with both hands, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Jesus, girl, don't you dare faint on me, ugh!" Angie muttered quietly, this time using her Angela voice and proper English.

"Belita, get the rum bottle and pour it over the wound!" She added, hoping the girl would listen to her.

The knife still had dried blood on it, possibly from the previous victim, and it looked dirty enough to give Belita an infection, if her wound was not cleaned properly right away.

"Oh, so you _are_ a liar!? You _do_ know English like an American girl." He mentioned.

"Why do all serial killers have to be dumb idiots? Like, seriously!" Angela groaned, rolling her eyes and still not giving him the satisfaction of looking at him.

"What did you just call me?"

"The name every judge in his right mind would call you, you ass!" She said cockily.

"What the Hell!? Stop provoking him. You have no back-up. Do you have a death wish or something?" Garrett was now a little less impressed by Angie's tactics.

"Don't worry. He's harmless. He only goes after innocent little girls who are dumb enough to believe his lies. I'm not one of those. He won't dare touch me. He can't do it, he doesn't have it in him. He's a spineless creature, afraid of his own shadow, happy to hurt the powerless. But the moment he faces a strong female, he'll crumble like a newborn puppy, begging for his pathetic life." Angie laughed out loud.

"Stop!" The UnSub said, pleadingly.

"That's right. Beg! Beg me to stop. Come on, oh please, beg me to stop!" She finally looked at him, with a smug smile.

"Stop it. Stop. Just stop. Okay? Stop!" The man turned from a psychopath with a knife, to a powerless creature, just like she had suggested seconds ago.

"Is that what Pilar asked you? To stop? Did you kill her because she asked you to stop?" She took it one step further.

"Stooop!" He grabbed his head with both hands, the knife still between his fingers.

"Did she tell you she was not interested? Did you try to get her attention in any way possible? Did she turn you down? Did you think that killing her would make it better?"

"Stop speaking, please!"

"Five minutes. Hang on, baby!" Clara announced, her words making Garrett give her a questioning look.

"Did you fantasize about her? Did you imagine her speaking fluent English? Is that why you killed her? She wasn't good enough to graduate? Or maybe you killed her, so she wouldn't graduate and go on with her life, returning to Cuba? Did you come to Cuba to find a new Pilar? Huh? Did you think any other girl could ever make up for the loss of Pilar's life?"

A loud slap across the face was not what would make Angie shut up. When that attempt failed and she continued on being loud and annoying, the UnSub swung his knife in the air.

"Oh, please do it. Stab me. Stab me real good. Come on. Do it. Give yourself the satisfaction of pretending to be a real man, come on, stab me. I dare you to have the balls to stab me. But look me in the face and imagine Pilar. Stab me as many times as you stabbed her, let's see if I magically turn into your precious little Cuban fantasy. Come on, stab me. STAB ME!" She raised her voice at the end, the loudness of her voice was confusing him more and more.

Angie had read in one of her books that when dealing with a psychopath, if one inserted themselves into their fantasy, it would confuse them and possibly make them even more dangerous, but it was a great stalling strategy. They would surely lash out even harder, but they would take twice as long to get to their state of aggressiveness, so she was now testing out that theory.

"Why hesitate? Aren't you a real man? Oh, is that why Pilar was not interested? Were you not man enough for her, Professor Phelan? What a lame guy you must have been, just some local school teacher, I bet you did a crappy job at it, too." Angie continued, but the effect of her words was starting to wear off.

The psycho facial expression on his face started being a little more normal and it was only a matter of time until he would go back to his nature and let his instinct plunge that knife right into her chest.

"FBI, drop the knife!" Clara yelled out, jumping out of the car as soon as they figured out their exact position. They had arrived just on time.

"What?" The UnSub muttered, now even more confused.

For a second he looked towards the four people who had jumped out of the car and were now walking towards him. Three had a gun pointed at him.

Next to him, there was a wounded girl and right underneath his knife, still up in the air, there was Angela's chest. Things did not look good for him and he was now in a state where he could comprehend the severity of the situation. Angela had shattered his fantasy and that had brought him back to the reality. But at least she had been able to buy herself a few more minutes before her back up arrived, otherwise she would have been dead by that time.

"Not a clean shot, Seger!" Garrett said out loud, afraid that Clara was about to pull the trigger.

She looked fierce. He had never seen her like that before. He had seen her reckless, wild, but never this fierce. It was like she _had_ to protect Angela, no matter at what cost. Like an instinct. Like something an animal would do.

Clara pursed her lips, standing still, now close enough to the UnSub, but still without an actual reason to make a clean shot. Yes, she had him on her radar and she'd make the perfect shot from where she was standing, but he hadn't given her a reason to pull that trigger. And Garrett was hoping that Clara would know that.

"Drop the knife and we can talk…" Garrett tried to reason with the man, but Angie shook her head, as if to let him know that it won't help.

Rodney's mind was so messed up and confused at that moment, that any conversation would be doomed before it would even start. He couldn't be taken down with words. He had to be overpowered, but he was not making any gesture to show that he was actually going to hurt Angela, so still, no good excuse for them to shoot.

"Markings 137." Clara whispered, making no sense at all.

To everyone it seemed like gibberish, but Garrett had his suspicious it might be some sort of a code. Then again – when did Angie and Clara have the time to develop their own code? It seemed highly unlikely Clara would have taught that, at the Academy.

As soon as Angie heard that, she smirked.

"Pilar is alive! She survived the stab wounds and was given a new identity. You'll never find out where she lives now." Angela said, her eyes piercing through the UnSub's eyes.

The mere mention of that possibility drove him off the edge. She saw that psycho stare in his eyes one more time and the grip on his knife tightened. In the split of a second, he was now looking at her through gritted teeth, rage oozing from his face, while his hand swung up, to acquire speed and force, before it slammed down to the exact place where Angela's chest was…until a second ago.

She knew she was going to piss him off. It was a calculated move. So, when she gave him the reason to go off, she also rolled to the side and allowed him to plunge the knife into the mud, instead.

Clara now had the perfect opportunity to shoot, which is exactly what she did. Before the UnSub could even realize that he hadn't even stabbed Angela, he was on top of her, with blood leaking from his own chest.

"Nice shot!" Mae commented. She had been going to the gun shooting range with Clara lately and she knew Clara was a sharp shooter, but this was fast and precise, this shot impressed her.

Kevin was standing by the car, as he had been instructed to do, until Garrett motioned for him to go get Belita and talk to her in Spanish. Kevin tried to calm her down, he made her look the other way, so she wouldn't be looking at the UnSub. He kept repeating that it was over and that she was going to be okay.

Mae called in for immediate medical help, while Clara and Garrett stood by Angie's side.

"Good job, Hunter!" Garrett said, allowing the tiniest smile to creep up on his face.

To say that he was impressed would be an understatement. The girl had not flinched under pressure and she was not even freaked out now, having Clara remove a huge man whose bloody body was now covering half of Angela's body.

"Thank you for being such great back-up, guys." Angie said politely.

Clara finished pushing the UnSub out of their way, before she knelt down and embraced Angela's body. She didn't give a crap about the fact that her own clothes got muddy and bloody instantly. She just wanted to feel Angie's beating heart, against her chest.

"Είμαι περήφανος για εσάς, Angela!" Clara whispered to her, making her smile.

"Suck up." Angie chuckled. In reality, she didn't mind hearing that Clara was proud of her, and she did appreciate the chosen language. It was one of her favorite.

"Translation?" Mae asked after making sure the UnSub was definitely dead.

Angie and Clara winked at each other and none of them translated.

"How did you know Clara was fluent in Greek?" Garrett asked, as if that was the most pressing question he had.

"And how were you so sure the UnSub wouldn't know Greek?" Kevin added to the question.

"Well, Greek is one of the oldest written languages on the Earth, one of the first Indo-European languages, and the language with the longest history of alphabetic graphology on the planet. It is also the language of 'tall, dark and handsome' fairy-tale-looking sailor boys from, like, every movie…so it would only seem fitting that it was one of the thirteen languages Clara knew." Angie replied to Garrett with a smirk before shooting a glance at Clara, making her blush. She did, indeed, like her 'tall, dark and handsome' guys.

"Also, Phelan rolled his victims in the US flag, so he must be a diehard patriot, especially being Southern-born and raised. And since, in most cases, it is believed to be unpatriotic to learn new languages, and statistics show that true patriots choose to be monolingual in their own country's national language, plus – the US is culturally as well as geographically isolated from the rest of the world; it was a safe bet he would have no damn clue what I was saying." Angie then replied to Kevin's question.

The way she spoke – so calmly, so collected, so educated, with all this correct information and statistics; surprised everyone. First of all – this had to be the very first time this girl had ever had a run-in with a real criminal, a serial killer, at that - one whose lifeless body had just been physically removed from laying on top of her just seconds ago.

And secondly – she was stating facts and speaking loud and clear, calmly, as if there wasn't a hint of worry or trauma after what had just happened to her. It seemed weird. It would be human of her to be just as freaked out as Belita, who was still screaming and crying in Kevin's arms. And Angie just sat there, on the grass, covered in blood, with a dead body next to her…while she gave an extremely eloquent reply to her colleagues, with a small smile on her face.

An ambulance arrived ten minutes later and paramedics tended to Belita. A doctor asked Angela a few questions, but she was unhurt and in no need of medical help. Garrett insisted on her going to the hospital as well, presuming she was holding back the emotional trauma of what had just happened. Not every Trainee got to see an UnSub being rolled out in a body bag, after trying to kill them.

Angie did not say a thing, as she quietly sat in the car while it followed the ambulance to the hospital.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

** "Ducksdragonfly" **Your Greek-related questions have just been answered in the nerdiest of ways lol :)! | Angie, a force? Hmm, that's IF Angie even gets close enough to the BAU again... | Yeah, Clara is a firecracker, like Angie. She demanded to be given some credit, but let's hope she won't feel the wrath of the other person (on the phone), because they are overly protective of Angie (and their identity is revealed later on). | Thanks, stay safe and well you too!

**"Natasha36"** Thanks so much! I have a huge plan with all the details of who is who and who did what, so that when the reveal/s come out, you guys will realize what was going on from the start and if you re-read parts of the story you will find obvious clues about the reveal/s hehe, clues that right now seem just like ordinary words, until you make sense of them and fit them into the puzzle :)! Yes, I'm giving subtle hints, without spoiling everything at once. I'm making you guys work for it hehe! You will find out who Bella is when the time comes. For now, she's just the shadow of a girl that Richard would do anything for! Clara spoke to someone who is protective over Angie (like Richard is with Bella). Their identity will be revealed later on. The hostage woman definitely knows who Lauren Reynolds is (in the mob world) and let me tell you - she's not a fan lol!

**"rmpcmfan"** Great, you _should_ have questions, it's a detective style mystery story (at least I try lol) :)! 1) I can confirm Clara did NOT speak with Dan. It was someone whom Clara has nothing but "love" for! Someone special to her, whom you'll maybe hear more about ;) 2) The foreign agency needs her to do a "job" for them, so Bella is someone who used to work for Richard, but then he "saved" her from this life and she is now "studying abroad and doing what she always wanted to do". 3) Let's just say the foreign agency is NOT a fan of Lauren at all, lol. They only need Bella and Richard is their best link, even if they are not his fans because of his "connection" to Lauren, who is into hiding, technically, after having been spotted out and about with him during that one week. And him, being with "Lauren", makes him look shady to people. Also, if you asked "Lauren" who "Bella" or "Annabelle" is, she would not know that name ;)!


	82. Things Should Have Been Different

** CHAPTER 82**

_**THINGS SHOULD HAVE BEEN DIFFERENT**_

Angie had gotten checked at the hospital and it once again confirmed that she was perfectly fine. The team went back to their hotel to pack their stuff, now that the case was closed. They visited Belita who was in shock, but overall – fine. The stab wound in her leg would take some time to heal, though. Her family was by her side and she had learned a valuable lesson in life – trust nobody!

Then, it was time for a quick trip to the police station before they would all head back to the airport. While everyone was busy going over the case info and making sure the local police was aware of everything that went down, Clara stepped out to take an incoming phone call.

"How did she do?" The person calling her, asked without even greeting her.

"Like you really need to ask." Clara smiled, meeting silence on the other side of the line.

"Spectacular." She continued, since the other person was not going to speak before they had their question answered. "She killed it! And before you freak out – _I_ killed him, the UnSub. She killed the game. Take a breath."

"Well, no surprise there, having in mind whose kid she is!" The person said confidently.

"Jesus, I'm about to fall in love with you all over again." Clara blushed. That person had the most weirdly specific character in the world and she loved them for it.

"Blah. Get a life, Seger." That reply, full of cockiness and irony, made her laugh and soon enough the other person was laughing as well.

_"__Agent Seger? We are ready to leave now."_ Angela's voice sounded from a distance. She had just stepped out on the patio, to let Clara know she needed to hurry up.

"Oh, she calls you _Agent Seger_ now?"

"She _has_ to." Clara replied. "She must be hating it so much." She added, still laughing.

"It is so nice to hear her voice again…" The other person trailed off. Of did their voice break just a little?

"She'll come around, Love. Give her time. You know how she is." Clara said softly, wanting nothing more but to hold that person in her arms, to share their pain, to take some pain away from their chest, if that was even possible.

Once again, she met silence as an answer. A tiny sigh, full of pain, was heard before the line went dead.

* * *

Bryan walked to the SWAT training grounds, feeling every bit of pride. This was his specialty. This was what he was good at. This was all he had known since that day he had decided to change, to turn his life around, to be a better person.

"Ya'll betta be ready fo' this..." Morgan announced his arrival with a very typical for him one liner.

He was known to be hard on trainees. He'd push them, he'd break them down and then, ultimately, he'd build them up from scratch, making sure everything about them was nothing short of perfect.

There was no place for mistakes, on the field. Morgan had lost way too many friends and colleagues and this prompted him to be even more demanding during training. He took it upon himself to form the type of Agents who would never leave their friends and family behind. Not that anyone would do so willingly.

He then explained what their training would focus on and, luckily, it was something Bryan knew he needed to work on. He knew he'd be far from perfect, but hanging out with Angie has taught him one thing - the Academy was about _learning_, not showing off what you already know.

On so many instances, Bryan had noticed her write down a definition, before their teacher would even say it out loud. It was painfully clear that Angie was really well prepared, but never - not even once, had she bragged about it. No. There was this air of modesty around her and even though she'd carry herself with pride, she would never point out her intellect. On the contrary - she continuously dumbed herself down. For what reason, Bryan still hadn't figured out.

"Where's your cuter half?" Morgan asked silently, once he was in a corner with Bryan and pretty much no one else.

Bryan was staring at the space, strategizing.

_"If I turn that angle, I'd be surrounded. Yup. The blueprints showed two doors in the next room. Two points of entrance. Twice the chance I'd get shot. Nope. Gotta be smart about this. Alright..."_ Bryan's inner voice spoke to him, while he remained quiet and focused on the outside.

"Now, I have two options. Retreat, which is a cowardly thing to do. Or ask for back-up. Yeah. That's what I need to do. Making sure my team is safe also applies to _my_ own safety." This time he let his mouth do the talking. He didn't even realize that his thoughts were now being pronounced out loud.

"Ah! Strategizing!" Morgan grinned, realizing why Bryan hadn't even noticed him standing there and trying to start a conversation.

"Huh?" Snapping out of it, Bryan blushed at the idea that someone had just busted him, talking to himself. Then again, with Angie doing that on a daily basis, it would barely be a surprise anymore if someone else started doing it, as well.

"Oh, no, pal. Don't sweat it. We all do it, that's what keeps us sane...weirdly." Morgan laughed, unable to even count the endless times he had been caught in the same situation.

Years ago, Morgan had developed the weirdest habit of walking through a crime scene and 'experiencing' it, from the point of view of the UnSub. He'd stumble upon objects and grab random knives or bust out his gun and yell something at the air, surrounding him. Or, occasionally, at one of his colleagues who dared to be in his crosshairs.

"Asking for back-up is _always_ the right thing to do." Morgan reassured him and that made him smile.

"Hi." Bryan said awkwardly.

"We've been training side by side for the past two hours. What'chu doin' greeting me _now_? C'mon, man." Morgan nudged him. That dude needed to relax a little.

With something else now on his mind, Bryan remained weirdly silent.

"I was asking about your prettier half..." Morgan dropped the question one more time, rephrasing the popular saying.

"She got cut." Even in his state of insanity, Bryan still had a sense of humor.

"WHAT!?" Morgan choked. He had chosen the wrong moment to act casual and to bring his water bottle to his mouth. He choked on it, naturally.

"Relax. Your favorite is still going strong. She'd be kicking all of our asses here. She's just..." Bryan trailed off, unsure how much he was at liberty to say.

On a case that is super-secret and way above Bryan's clearance level? Check.

Possibly not even on the same continent? Check.

Maybe getting drunk one more time, wearing a mini skirt and a cute flowery top, sipping cocktails at the beach and urging his new colleagues to try to twerk? Check.

Wait, what?

* * *

"Do it, girl!" Angie chuckled.

Mae was so sweet when she was acting all proper and cute, but Angie wanted to push her limits just a little bit. They all needed to live a little, after the case.

"Come on!" Clara joined in on the efforts to make Mae loosen up.

"Well..." Kevin looked at all three girls and then at Garrett.

The boss was, clearly, not going to take part in this. He would watch, hell yes. But he won't urge. Facing a sexual harassment complaint after 25 years in the FBI was not on his bucket list. And, as close as he was to his team, he still knew that Clara was a sneaky snake, one that would use any piece of information, as leverage against just about anyone in the world, friend or not. She would bribe him for the better hotel room, she would bribe him to lend her his sports car, she would bribe him until he'd drop dead, like she had bribed him, many times in the past. Sometimes he wondered why she chose anthropology, instead of life as an undercover agent? She'd be damn good at it, the master manipulator that he knew her to be.

And yet, Clara had an amazing side to her – she was cheerful, full of life, vibrant, smiling, educated, very relatable and people loved her instantly after meeting her. Jack could put her bribing nature aside, because her human side was more than worthy of his attention and love, as a colleague, purely platonic.

"To mysteries…" Clara suggested a toast.

"To solving them!" Angie added, clinking her glass against Clara's and still keeping an eye on Mae, who was trying to look a bit more fun and a bit less proper. She just needed a few more drinks.

Garrett took Kevin aside and let him know that he had to work on a few things if he wanted to have a chance at graduating the Academy. His rough and uncensored feedback was well-received by Kevin, who was a smart guy, willing to improve himself.

"Girls, if you're done dancing…or whatever that is…" Garrett cringed. "We should get going. We still need to get to the airport early. Security controls in Cuba are not exactly a breeze, especially for US Government employees. Somehow, they want to make our lives even worse."

"Oh, alright. Party's over." Clara announced, seeing Angie, Mae and Kevin pout.

They had spent a couple of hours at some pub at the beach, sipping drinks to celebrate the case being closed. That man, Rodney Phelan, would never get to hurt another girl.

Reaching the airport, Angie started yawning. Now that she didn't need to be sharp and alert, her body was finally giving up and letting her know it needed to rest. She crashed on one of the bunk beds on the plane, while the team was writing their official reports.

Clara walked by her, on her way to go grab herself a bottle of water. Angela was full of life, she had a huge personality, but when she slept, she was so peaceful and quiet. Clara smiled at how she had curled up on the bed, almost as if she was hugging herself in her sleep.

"Things should have been different…" Clara whispered to herself, allowing the back of three fingers to brush against Angie's sweaty cheek. "So, _so_ different…"

* * *

"Boss, pizza is here!" Sasha called out from the kitchen after receiving three large pizza boxes that had cost her way more than they should have. Apparently, delivery in that beach area was quite expensive. She cursed having had to pay for it, herself, and wondered if there might be a subtle way for her to slip the receipt to Richard, for him to cash out on.

Richard finally re-appeared, looking much more fresh and relaxed, with a change of clothes and attitude.

He had taken a nice shower and had then chilled a bit in his room, laying on the bed, with his eyes staring at the ceiling and imagining a parallel universe in which Lauren would be there, next to him…preferably naked.

"We need to figure out who she works for. I don't want to keep her here a second longer, especially if she's someone's asset." Richard spoke, on their way to the basemen.

Sasha had followed him, curious to see the hostage.

"Oh, you really are the sweetheart everyone says you are." The woman smirked at him when he opened the pizza box, revealing a very tasty looking pizza, with prosciutto and cherry tomatoes as toppings. It smelled delicious.

"I did contemplate getting you a plain Margherita for, like, a second. So I'm not as nice as I make believe." He smiled.

He was well aware of his perception, in the world he lived in. Everyone knew _how_ he was, even if they didn't know _who_ he was, or rather – _what_ he looked like.

Richard, the Boss, was a good man, who cared about his employees and about the people that surrounded him. He'd order his doorman a delicious take-out meal, coffee and dessert whenever he could, making it arrive at the little doorman booth that he was always alone in. Richard felt bad for the elder man, who was stuck there for hours, making sure nobody unwanted would enter the building he lived in. Sometimes he'd chat with the armed security guys that worked there, as well, but for the most part the doorman would be alone. Richard had gone downstairs on numerous occasions, just chatting with the guy and pretending like he was very interested in his favorite baseball team, even if Richard had never even heard of them before. That was the kind of guy Richard was – thoughtful, nice, a good person.

Louis, the Mob Boss, was a ruthless, sadistic creature whose preferred method of communication was torture, as far as the world of crime was concerned.

Having lived as two people for years, plus, having many other aliases as well, had screwed him up a little, to the point where the lines between characters often got blurred and he found himself doing things he otherwise would not do. But then again, nobody was perfect and, with his job, these consequences were a given.

"I see you didn't waste any time in getting yourself some entertainment, so your fame for an insatiable one is also true…?" The hostage pushed it and he rolled his eyes. It was weird to have someone call Sasha a 'call girl', but then again, that was what she had to pretend to be.

"Will you, please, be kind enough to tell me whom I can call before I release you? My 'entertainment' and I have a pizza waiting for us upstairs and we'd like to enjoy it while it's still hot…so…" What Richard was trying to say was: _don't waste my time_. But he was too nice to say it like that, not as Richard anyway.

"So, you like it hot?" She toyed with him again.

At that point, it was safe to say she was only wasting his time.

He untied her wrists so she could feed herself and when he was sure she wouldn't utter one more word, he left her on her own, but not before opening a bottle of water and placing it next to her, so she could reach it. He sure was much more thoughtful than the average hostage keeper.

"Wow, Boss, she's a smug lil' bitch." Sasha commented once they walked to the veranda and placed the pizza boxes on the table, getting ready to enjoy their early lunch.

"This doesn't make sense, Sasha. If she's an Agent, why isn't anyone coming for her? And why does she think she has the upper hand? Why hasn't she told me who she works for? I mean, she knows me as Richard, not as Louis, so she knows she could trust me. Also, this has nothing to do with the Zenum operation, so we're back to square one when it comes to _that_." Richard groaned and took a sip of water before taking in a few deep breaths.

He hated not being in charge. His life, his career, his mentality revolved around him, pulling the strings and him, being in charge. This was one more reason that drove him absolutely insane, when it came to Lauren. There was nothing he could do, other than wait for her to call maybe. She was in charge. He was not. And it was killing him inside.

Despite the insecurity and the lack of any sort of information, he was able to enjoy a nice lunch with his colleague. She told him about her husband's plan to buy a bigger house and she then dropped a bomb that Richard did not expect.

"A baby!?" He asked in shock when Sasha told him what she had been discussing with her husband lately.

"Yeah. We figured it would be a good time. I can take some time off the job, then I'll do the re-adjustment tests and trainings and I'll be back in less than two years. I'll still be young and able to do the things I do now. We have it all figured out. I was just…you know, I was kind of waiting for the right moment to talk to you about it and to see how you'd feel about that…" She said shyly.

"Sasha, are you joking? You don't have to ask me permission! This is a wonderful thing, I'm so happy that both of you want to do this. And yes, now may be the best time to do it. Like you said, you are young and if you feel like it's time, then it's time. Oh Sasha…"

Richard could not help it. He stood up and gave her a hug.

"You'll be a wonderful mother." He whispered, all of a sudden feeling a bit emotional.

"Hey, Boss…relax. It's only a plan. I'm not actually pregnant, not yet anyway. But thank you, it means a lot to me that you'd say that. You know, if you were anyone else, I'd probably be getting yelled at, right now. People hate it when women get pregnant, especially in our line of business. And, you know, especially when they're as good as I am, at what I do." She smirked.

Sasha had an accurately high opinion of herself. She knew she was good and she knew what she was worth. She never put herself down and Richard admired her for it. Bella had been the same way, with her occasional moments of self-doubt, of course, but for the most part she had been just like Sasha – young, talented, opinionated.

"I can't wait! I'll spoil that kid so much. I'll bring him, or her, to the ice skating rink every Christmas! And I'll teach them how to fly a drone and how to swim and-…"

"Boss?" Sasha interrupted him. "That's all the things you did with Bella…" She pointed out hesitantly.

Richard frowned. She was right, he was projecting.

"You miss her a lot, don't you?" She asked while closing the now empty pizza box, placing it on top of Richard's.

He just nodded. "I do, but she's a grown up now. She has a different life."

"It doesn't matter. She'll always be your little girl." Sasha smiled. Maybe that was her early motherly instinct, kicking in.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Hey guys! Is everyone doing well? I see I have a reader from FRANCE - please, reveal yourself hehe, drop me a HI! I absolutely LOVE France! Also, a reader from Bosnia & Herzegovina, my friend's wife is from there and I hear only great things about your country!**

**"zhangxinna"** Well, all I can confirm (from your last review) is that there sure is a **LOT** more to Angie than what meets the eye. But, in what way? You'll find out :)! Also, yes, when Richard said "Bella" is "out", he meant "out of this world/specific job", in a way. And good catch about "Jess", very observant of you to keep an eye out for Clara...maybe Clara gave out more clues, maybe she will start to reveal more things...hmm?


	83. She Died Because Of Me

** CHAPTER 83**

_**SHE DIED BECAUSE OF ME**_

"So, let me just sum this up real quick…" Bryan said at the end of a twenty-minute rant, coming from Angela.

"You not only got to skip on classes, but you also went to work on a case and actually slayed? In Cuba, nonetheless!" He added.

"Is that jealousy I hear?" Angie smirked. It was so good to see him again.

"Pride. And yeah, jealousy, you bet'cha!" He laughed, fixing his uniform and making sure he looked perfect.

It was Sunday afternoon, which meant that another cut was probably about to happen. Trainees were once again asked to gather up at the Auditorium and nobody knew why.

"Hello, everyone." Dan greeted them and explained that they were going to take a test, the results of which, along with feedback they had gotten from their current training officers, would determine who had to go home that evening.

"Well, you're slightly disadvantaged, since you never got to take those classes." Bryan shrugged. "But I'm sure you're smart enough to crush this test anyway."

With those words, they were divided and asked to sit in the opposite sides of the Auditorium.

The test was virtual and it was multiple choice, which sounded easy until the Trainees realized that three out of the four choices they had per each question, were basically the same answer, worded differently. It showed that they needed to know the specifics, the way of saying things the right way, in the right order, if they wanted to pass.

Angie was calm while she placed her answers, but she read everything twice, very carefully, making sure she wouldn't make a stupid mistake. A few of the things were definitely from classes she had missed out on, for these few days she was away, but she was confident she could figure out the right answer anyway. Some of the things were popular topics in any criminal book she had read, so she focused on what she was being asked and gave it her best shot.

An hour later, Dan asked everyone to put their tablets down and to go wait outside while their results were being calculated and checked.

Half an hour after that, the Trainees were allowed back into the Auditorium. Most of them had done a quick coffee run, Angie and Bryan included, so they were now holding those in their hands, shaking.

Their results appeared on the big screen and Dan announced that the last few names on the list were done with the Academy. Along with those, he added a few more names of people who had gotten bad feedback that week.

It was stressful to cut so many people at once, but it was also good, for two reasons. One, having less people to train meant they had more materials at their disposal, while at the same time meeting the budget they had. Two, less people meant more attention on each one of them, individually. More feedback. More time with the training officers. It was not such a bad thing after all.

"Trainee Hunter?" Dan said, after having announced the extra names that got cut.

Angie's eyes widened. Her heart skipped a beat, if it even did beat at all, after she heard her name.

"Good job with the IRS." Dan smirked.

Toying with her was his favorite pastime. He knew she'd freak out if she heard her name, so he intentionally did that.

Angie waved at him awkwardly, deciding that if, someday, she had enough authority, she'd come up with the best payback for that.

* * *

"I told you we'd get him." Rossi walked over to Emily, who was sitting in the back of the plane, now on their way back home after they had closed their own case.

Her gaze was fixated on the clouds and her mind was elsewhere. She heard him, but she just did not reply.

"Emily, this is a win." He reminded her.

The UnSub was now in custody and soon enough he'd be locked up behind bars for the rest of his life. Their job was done.

Emily opened a folder and showed Rossi a photo of Adler, one of the victims, the boy they had seen at the morgue.

"I know…" He whispered, placing his hand on her shoulder and feeling her shift just a little bit, leaning closer to him.

"But you can't let this get to you. This is what we deal with all the time. Why is this one giving you such a headache?" He realized how immensely stupid his question was, once he said it out loud.

"Ah, because you can't help but draw parallels between this boy and _her_. But, you see, it was a completely different scenario. He was dead before we even joined the case-…" He got cut off by Emily, who finally decided to speak up.

"And _she_ died because of me." She choked on her words, finding it hard to admit that. It sounded so official.

"No, Emily. She did not." Rossi insisted.

She just shook her head and leaned against the window, away from him.

* * *

The Trainees had the rest of the day off. Most of them wandered around, went to get food or to catch up on their reading for the next week.

Bryan and Angie got burgers and went to hang out with Amanda and Jack for a little bit.

"You worked a case so early in your training?" Amanda was impressed when she heard Angie's story.

"Well, I only had to translate, but then I was with the UnSub and things evolved." Angie shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal.

"With him? Don't you mean you got kidnapped?" Jack corrected her.

"Not really. I did get in the car willingly. But it's fine. The IRS were amazing, they figured out my location and got there just in time." Angie smiled and took a big bite of her hamburger. She wouldn't admit it, but she loved junk food.

"Did you freak out? I mean, it was the first time someone dead smashed on top of you." Jack pointed out.

"I was fine." She replied calmly.

"You couldn't have been fine." Amanda could not help but laugh out loud. "The first time I was on a scene where someone got shot, I was a mess. I bawled my eyes out in the car afterwards. My face was white like a canvass and I only remember that one of my team members was splashing water on my face and trying to get me to talk. I was in shock, they took me to the hospital and had to give me some tranquilizer. They said I was shivering."

Angie shut her eyes closed while Amanda spoke. For those few seconds, she teleported herself somewhere else. It was dark, cold, she was shivering as well. A loud sound from her imaginary scene brought her back to reality, back to her friends.

"Mhh?" She muttered, realizing that Bryan was now nudging her.

"Jesus, I'm fine." She crossed her hands against her chest.

None of them believed her. They had already all witnessed murder, and they remembered exactly how nerve-wracking that first experience had been for them. Angela could act tough, but they knew it was about time that she'd snap and let the memory of what had happened, take over her.

* * *

Emily opened the front door to her apartment with a loud sigh. She let her Go Bag hit the floor, where it would remain untouched, for the next few days.

The first thing she did was to take a very long shower. She tilted her head, so that the warm water would hit her face before it hit her body. Running her tongue along her bottom lip, she realized that the water was not enough to take away the saltiness. The saltiness of her tears.

She sighed one more time, before applying a generous amount of shampoo on her hair. Maybe the taste of that would make it a little less salty.

It did not.

Desperate to not feel that taste anymore, she was contemplating on rubbing the soap bar against her tongue, which she later on decided was a very bad idea. It felt like no matter what she did, her tongue felt the salty taste. Her mind kept the memory. Her heart was heavy.

She got out of the shower, still not feeling clean enough. Was the dirt she felt, ever going to go away? Would she ever feel clean again?

_"__I love yooou, yu knw that, rght?"_ A text appeared on her phone and it made her smile. Temporarily.

_"__JJ, have you already been drinking? Check your spelling!" _Emily replied, adding a bottle emoji.

_"__Sry, Henry and Mickey are suffocating me. Can't type."_ JJ texted back, along with an emoji of a mother with two boys.

Emily's lip quivered, for some reason. To her, JJ was the epitome of a great mother. She was everything Emily would have wanted to be. That thought added some more saltiness to the situation.

_"__Henry is raving about Friday night with you. He's so happy. Thanks for letting him stay over, right before we went on a case. You're a miracle!"_ JJ had just sent her text and while Emily was reading it, she received a call.

"I haven't even finished reading…" Emily whined as she picked up.

"Good. Means I can say it out loud – you are a miracle!" JJ smiled and her kid's voices were now in the background, playing with some toy in her room.

"ChayChay, you know it's always a pleasure to spend time with the kids. God bless them for not having inherited their dad's accent." Emily laughed and heard JJ clear her throat.

It was an ongoing joke at the BAU. Half the time they wouldn't even understand what Will was saying, but they loved him anyway. If he was worthy of JJ's love, who were they to judge?

"I love it when you call me ChayChay." She chuckled.

"I know what you're doing…" Emily finally called her out.

For weeks now, JJ had done nothing but act cheerful, so she'd make Emily a bit less stressed. She'd try and make her smile. Sometimes she successfully made Emily laugh. All at the cost of JJ's own sanity.

That case from a month ago had hit everyone hard. Emily was the one who got the worst of it, both emotionally and as feedback from her Superiors afterwards. The blowback was huge, the budget cut undoubtedly was connected to that case, as well. But through it all, JJ had been Emily's personal clown and she had never allowed her, or anyone else, notice even the slightest hint of worry on her face. As long as Emily was okay, JJ wasn't complaining. It's who she was. It's what she would always do, for Emily.

"…and I appreciate every second of it, ChayChay." Emily finished off her statement and JJ was already in tears.

"I love you so much." She whispered.

"I love you, too. And I'm glad I have the opportunity to tell you that, every single day." Emily felt equally as emotional, but she was better at hiding it, than JJ.

It was JJ who hung up the phone. They didn't need further greetings. What they needed to say to each other, had been said, if not with words, then with those tiny little gasps for air while none of them was speaking, but the line was still open.

Emily then went straight to bed, only to find it impossible to sleep. She kept on tossing and turning all night long and each time she closed her eyes, images of their latest male victim came up, followed by very vivid images from that one damned case, four weeks ago, the case that had potentially screwed up Emily Prentiss to the point of no return.

* * *

"Thank you for your kind hospitality, Richard." A female said, extending her hand to greet him on her way out.

Richard and Sasha looked at each other in confusion, but he shook that hand nonetheless.

"You know, I have to say, you really _are_ the men they say you are. It was a pleasure doing business with you. We shall meet again…" The woman added mysteriously, walking through the spacious living room of his beach house, accompanied by a man in a dark suit.

"Boss, what the Hell?" Sasha whispered to him.

It didn't make sense.

A couple of hours ago Sasha had gone to the basement and she had watched Richard give this woman a pizza and a bottle of water, yes, that was nice of him to do, but this woman had been restrained and kept against her will. Unharmed, granted, but still, she was someone's hostage. And now, she was acting all nice and cordial, complimenting Richard on his dignity at work.

"Hey, if someone understands the things we need to do, on this job, it's me. No judgment here, okay?" The woman leaned in and whispered to him, on her way out. "I really do think you handled this gracefully and, for what it's worth it, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you who I work for. I'm sure you'll understand."

Richard raised an eyebrow. He had received a phone call an hour ago, informing him that he was holding someone's asset as a hostage.

"Wow, our neighbor's Intelligence Agency knows how to handle business." Sasha smirked.

She was impressed – within an hour of realizing that Richard was holding their asset, those people had sent another Agent and a car with a driver, to go get her out of there and it had all gone down so peacefully.

"Wait!" Richard sensed that the man in the suit, who was now accompanying her out, must be her Superior, or at the very least – her Handler; so he wanted to give her something back, as a 'thank you' for not mentioning the 'restraints' part of her morning routine.

"I cannot give you Bella. But I have people who are just as good and I'm willing to help you out, whatever your case is." He said with an apologetic smile.

"Thank you, but we needed Bella. She's already been undercover with the people we are trying to bust. They know her face and she was our only chance of getting back out there. We now have to start the entire process again, by pacing a new agent in and hoping he or she would not get killed or made." The woman sighed.

Richard understood just how long and painful that process would be, but there was nothing he could do about it. Bella was done with this life and there was no looking back. At least not as far as he was concerned.

"Well, I'm sorry this was all for nothing then. And I'm sorry for…anything, really…" He wanted to mention drugging her, holding her hostage in a basement and turning her finger into a purple stick from when he had twisted it, but he decided it was best to just say he was 'sorry'. She was surely smart enough to figure out he meant he was sorry about _all_ of it.

"No need to be sorry. You were a gentleman. I respect you for what you did." She winked at him, but this time it wasn't in that annoying hungry kind of way. It almost looked like they were friends, having an innocent friendly conversation.

"Good luck with your case." He smiled.

"Good luck with that woman you said was not yet your wife. You know where to send me that wedding invitation." The woman said cheekily, remembering how Richard had worded that, when they had met a day ago, at the beach. She had gotten the impression that Richard was a bit bitter about not being with some woman that he was clearly very fond of. It didn't take a genius to read that, in between the lines.

"You better believe if I invite you to the wedding, I'm getting Margherita pizza catering for all the guests. As payback, you know." He laughed.

The woman then left with her colleague. Richard and Sasha didn't even know their names, but they had seen the badges and they had gotten the phone call from their base of operations. There was no doubt those were intelligence officers.

"I don't even know what to say…" Sasha laughed out loud once she was all alone in the house, just with Richard by her side.

"Let's put that on the long list of random weird things that have happened to us on the job and let's crack a bottle open, shall we? I mean, before you're unable to enjoy some wine with the Boss." He smiled, pointing at Sasha's stomach, in reference to her comments about wanting a baby.

"Sooo…" Sasha started off, dragging it out in the most annoyingly obvious way.

"Don't you even dare!" Richard laughed. There was no doubt in his mind what Sasha's question would be.

"Boss, _why_ did you hire me?" She asked.

"Because you're extremely good at extracting information from people and you do it with a smile."

"Mhm…" Sasha nodded. "Sooo?" She repeated again, after she had proven her point that she was damn good at making people talk when she wanted to get information out of them.

"Sasha, I'm your Boss. Thread lightly!" He laughed, he was a goofball even when he tried to sound scary.

"Oh, come on! It's high time you lose the bimbos and get yourself a main chick, Boss. I just wanna know the details! Is she hot? Is she brunette? She must be, you don't like blondes. Thank God, because I'm blonde and, considering what I wore yesterday, it could have gotten weird…"

"Sasha, stop talking." He laughed at how she spiraled into a full blown monologue. She reminded him of Bella when she did that.

"So, who is she? Come on, Boss! We're technically not working right now. Can't you pretend to like me enough to tell me about your main squeeze?"

"You young people have the weirdest nicknames for partners…" He grimaced, remembering a few very 'out there' rap songs where the words 'main chick' and 'main squeeze' were used to describe some scantily clad women in the video clips.

"Sooo?" Sasha would not stop and at this point Richard knew that the best way to shut her up was to get her drunk and to give her the tiniest little bit of information possible.

"Fine. I may have had someone in mind when I said that, but it's nothing serious. Sadly." He hurried to open the bottle of wine, suddenly in desperate need of a glass or two.

"Yeah, didn't really think you could _actually_ commit to someone." Sasha shrugged.

She had seen him with different women, in different social occasions. But she had never seen the same woman twice.

"Yeah, I didn't think so either, but that's until I met _her_. Sadly, it's actually _her_ that's not so keen on committing…" He said slowly, making sure those words would be correct.

In a way, he was right. Lauren had been painfully clear about her fear of commitment. Wasn't that the whole reason why she always left people?

"Well, if you need someone to knock some sense into the bitch, if she breaks your heart, you know where to find me! I swear to God, Boss, if she hurts you, I'd drag her sorry ass, pregnant or not!" Sasha said, waving her fists in the air.

To anyone who didn't know what Sasha was really capable of, it would look like some dumb blonde bimbo was trying to act tough. But to Richard, who had seen her literally drag grown men around, kick doors down and use those fists to defend herself, it looked like just another day, another scene on the job. Plus, he had no problems picturing a very pregnant and very pissed off, vindictive Sasha, dragging some other woman's ass across the floor. It seemed like something Sasha would do.

"That would not be necessary, but I do appreciate your concern." He kept on laughing, finally handing Sasha a glass of wine.

"To my wonderful Boss who looks like a smitten punk, with that dumb smile on his face as he tells me about some woman who got him to act all silly, like that." Sasha suggested a toast and Richard shook his head.

Sometimes, Sasha was so spontaneous and weird that he simply didn't know how to handle her. It was one more thing she did, that reminded him of Bella. The two of them had spent a lot of time together, back in the days, so somewhere along the way their characters had started to blend a little bit. Sasha had started talking like a punk, like Bella sometimes did when she was feeling it, and Bella had started being super forward with her statements, not giving a damn if people would hate her words or not, as long as she stood by what she believed in, just like Sasha always has.

"I should maybe call in a conference with everyone who works for me and I guess you all could use a refresher on how to treat and talk to your Boss, you know, just some basic work etiquette stuff." He laughed, clinking his glass against hers.

While it was true that Richard was very high up the ladder, it was also true that a handful of the people who worked for him were actually pretty close with him. They almost felt like friends, with the exception that Richard was the Boss, which was a fact that often didn't even feel real, not with the way they spoke to each other.

He really did not mind, though. He enjoyed having this kind of relationship with those people.

When their glasses were empty, Richard eyed the empty pizza boxes that they had left on the table, outside.

"Alright, I can't take this anymore. It's a beautiful house and we've managed to turn it into a frat house. Come on, get up. We have some cleaning up to do and then, I guess, we shall drive back to Paris." He suggested and Sasha grabbed the glasses and the wine, stealing herself a small sip, right from the bottle. Richard had been right about something – soon enough Sasha would have to stop drinking, if she got pregnant, so she'd make sure to enjoy the last moments of sweet wine relief, as much as she possibly could now.

"Boss, here's her pizza box." Sasha said, extending a hand to him and handing him the hostage's box that she had retrieved from the basement earlier.

"Oh, she didn't finish it?" Richard frowned, realizing something was inside the box when he heard the sound of an object, rolling left and right. He figured it was a dried out piece of the crust.

Curiosity got the best of him and he cracked the box open, finding something else inside.

"Ehm, what the Hell is a pen doing in there?" Sasha raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I know! All spies have a pen on them, you know, she must have planned on poking one of your major arteries and letting you bleed out to death, the next time you went down there to be all smug and demanding!"

Richard shook his head again. Sasha had a vivid imagination.

"Sasha, what have I taught you?"

"That when there's a pen, there's a message." She replied, this time a bit more seriously.

After placing the wine glasses and the bottle in the sink, she looked at him and opened the cover of the pizza box.

"You trained me well, Boss!" She smirked, realizing that she was right about the message.

Sometimes, Sasha missed those days when Richard had been her Mentor. Practically _everything_ she knew about this job, was because _he_ had taught her.

Richard turned the box sideways, so he could see the text clearly.

When he started reading it out loud, he was surprised.

_"__They will soon come for me. I just hope that when they do, I walk out of here on my own and not with Bella by my side. It's not just a job. It's a hit. And there won't be any back up for your girl. I owe you this much of an explanation. Keep her safe. I'm a mother, I know the lengths one could go to, in order to protect someone they love. And I'm sorry, I __had__ to come here and do my job. I just hope I fail at it."_

Sasha was confused. That woman had looked tough as a rock, but she had managed to leave them a message like _that_?

"Killer with a conscious?" She said when Richard failed to comment on what he had just read out loud.

"She's not a killer, Sasha. She's one of us." He corrected her.

"Hate to break it to you, Boss, but what exactly do you think we are, if not _that_?" She said challengingly, to which Richard could not reply with anything else but a sigh.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan" **I replied to your reviews on inbox :) I just forgot to mention: GOOD CATCH about the parallel with Clara and Emily's reactions and interactions with Angie! I can assure you, _**NOTHING**_ is coincidental in this story *wink wink* Every twisted little comment that seems odd, is a carefully worded clue :P and will one day make sense!

**"zhangxinna"** Hmm, ok Detective...your theory would make sense, I agree, it ties with how Angie refuses to utter a word about her family and upbringing. However...(just to avoid maybe confusion in later chapters), I can confirm that Clara was **not** talking to "Jess" on the phone and "Jess" is **not** "Bella's" mother :)!

**"Nichole"** Ah, I know she shouldn't have risked it, but since she needed to get away instantly, Lauren's passport was the only fake passport she had on hand, so she made the decision to use it. Plus, I needed to tie Lauren into the story somehow :)!

Well, whatever the plot outcome might be, I hope you all enjoy reading about it. Remember that this is a _free_ platform, for every "writer" to _freely_ explore their ideas, in _any_ way they wish. There's de-aged fics, vampire Agents and all sorts of ideas around here for anyone to choose to read or not. (Btw there won't be anything supernatural in my fic, just a note hehe).


	84. I Can't Keep Sharing You With Them

** CHAPTER 84**

_**I CAN'T KEEP SHARING YOU WITH THEM**_

JJ had gotten back home late, that night. She had spent some time with Henry, since Mickey had already fallen asleep. Before going to bed she had called Emily on the phone, for their occasional 'I love you', but at had lasted only a couple of minutes. They had a way of communicating without saying much out loud.

JJ could not wait for it to be Monday morning, so she could wake up early and prepare the kids' favorite breakfast. Spending time with them in the morning was her favorite part of the day.

Apparently, one of them couldn't wait to spend time with her, either.

"Mommy, mommy, look!" Henry said with happy eyes. "Emmey wrote a poem!"

JJ was tired. No. She was exhausted. After the case they had, all she wanted was to feel the hot water pouring over her, to look at the steaming bathroom mirror in hopes of catching a glimpse of her face, and then to go to bed and have Will hold her for the rest of the night.

"Okay. I'm sure it is beautiful." She didn't even think about Henry's words, otherwise she would have immediately realized something was wrong. _Very_ wrong.

Emily Prentiss? A poem? Yeah, if that poem was about the many ways she could strangle someone with her bare hands. That woman was the furthest anyone could ever imagine when it came to poems and romance.

"I have a few questions about it. I don't understand much..." Henry popped on JJ's bed and she knew he wasn't going to let it go.

Will was making his evening rounds in the house, making sure everything was safe, locked and ready for a night of calm sleep and no worries of anyone breaking in. Mickey was sleeping already and it pained JJ to not be able to talk to him now that she was back. The least she could do was give twice as much attention to Henry now, and he seemed like he needed it.

"Okay. What did you say it was, again?"

"A poem...I think. Then there are also many misspelled words, too." Henry replied cheerfully.

JJ laughed, it downed on her how ridiculous that sounded, now that she actually received Henry's verbal communication properly.

_"__Hi…I don't know how to do this…" _She started reading out loud and, immediately, something sounded way off.

With her eyes she quickly scanned the page. It was written in beautiful handwritten cursive. First clue that Emily could not have produced this piece of art. Secondly, those 'spelling mistakes', as Henry had called them, were actually words and phrases in French. Yeah, Emily was fluent in French, so that was not a far stretch.

Third, and most important...

"OH MY GOD!" JJ could not hold back from gasping when she read who that poem was signed to.

"No, no, no, no, nooo!" Her heart had stopped beating. It was official - Jennifer Jareau's heart was now still and she was not functioning.

"What's wrong, mommy?" Henry's eyes quickly traced the point of the paper where JJ's wide eyes were now fixated on.

"Who is Lauren Reynolds?" He asked innocently.

"Nobody. Lauren Reynolds does not exist..." JJ replied to him before whispering the rest, to herself, in a failed attempt to make her still heart resume its normal functions. "Damn it, didn't I make sure of that!?"

Henry shrugged, unsure how to deal with the situation. His mommy never said bad words around him and Michael, so this was now new to him.

"Where did you find that?"

"In Emmey's apartment while she was in the kitchen, ordering pizza."

_"__God, would it hurt him to be a bit more specific?"_ JJ thought to herself, but she didn't want to put her own son through an interrogation, so she just smiled and accepted the fact that she would probably never know where this gem had been hidden.

"I don't think I like poems." Henry frowned.

Now bored, on top of being sleepy, he decided it would be best to go to bed.

Will entered the room and both him and JJ gave Henry a kiss goodnight before he walked to his own room. There had been a time when he would scream if anyone even suggested him sleeping anywhere other than in his parents' bed, but that was behind him now. At some point, for whatever reason, he had decided that he wanted to sleep in the other room. That was right about the time he got himself a baby brother. JJ had been extremely happy with how the Universe had worked in her favor. Good old days. Now it was Mickey who wanted to sleep with her and Will all the time.

"I thought we discussed this..." Will commented as soon as they were alone.

"Leaving work at work?" He nudged her memory when she gave him a confused look.

"Oh. Yeah. It's not work." She came off sincere, but then again, why did she still look so incredibly sad? "That's the problem."

"It's Emily again, isn't it?" Will knew. With a glance in JJ's eyes, he could see a pain and worry that she had reserved exclusively for Emily Prentiss.

"I'll be right back." JJ uttered before going back to the bathroom for the next half an hour.

_"__I never meant to find myself writing on this piece of paper, at night, while watching you sleep. And God, you look so peaceful and beautiful when you sleep. I can hear your breathing."_ JJ read to herself, praying that Emily hadn't gotten herself into another Lauren-connected international mess.

Emily had recently been gone for seven days and nobody knew her whereabouts. When she came back, she was different, JJ could tell. Like, she was broken, but still standing tall. Like she was doing her best to be Emily Prentiss. Like she was someone else, instead.

_"__There was this constant reminder that you will be gone. And I didn't know when."_ JJ was now almost at the middle of the poem, realizing that it did sound like a poem, after all.

Emotions. Raw emotions came out of that piece of paper. It was beautifully written, both because of the cursive and because of the words.

_"__The one thing I'm sure of is that I refuse to live another day with that overwhelming fear that, if I lose you out of sight for just a second, you might be gone. I hate that thought."_ JJ read and thought to herself: _whoever that person is, that makes two of us!_

_"__I know I'm never going to see your face again. I'm never going to touch you again. I'm never kissing those lips again." _JJ shuddered, all of a sudden realizing this was intruding Emily's privacy in the worst of ways. But she could not stop reading. Not if that meant her finding out the reason why Emily was so broken. Yes, that case from a month ago was the main reason, but there was something else. Something that was on that piece of paper, if Emily had felt the need to keep it.

_"__I'm sorry…I don't want to fall in love with Lauren Reynolds!"_ She read the very last line of the letter and, by that line, she was already bawling her eyes out.

JJ could never hold her emotions when it came to the people she loved. And she was most definitely not afraid to cry.

She stayed in the bathroom for five more minutes, trying to make sense of it all. Did Emily fall in love…as Lauren? Who was this mystery man? If she was using her old alias, did it mean that she was back, working undercover? Had she been assigned a new case? Was that why she disappeared without a trace? Was she leaving the BAU again? Was she going to die one more time?

A knock on the door made JJ hurry up. She hid the letter underneath her shirt and splashed some water on her face. Walking out of the bathroom, she saw Will, looking at her disapprovingly.

"I can't just ignore-…" She started off, but his lips prevented her from speaking further.

He knew that speech by heart: _can't ignore my friends when they are hurt, can't help my emotions, can't pretend like I'm fine when I know they are not_. He hated that speech!

"I love you, JJ." He said and she already knew this was not going to end well.

"But I can't keep sharing you with them. It's not normal to share my wife with six other people." It was then that JJ saw him holding the blanket with one hand.

"Will…" She whispered, but he took a few steps backwards.

"No, Will…" She said, this time a bit whinier. It did not help.

"You love your job, I get it. I love mine, too." He said, shaking his head.

"So, where's the problem?"

"The problem is that you also love six people more than you love me and the kids." He said coldly.

"Oh, that is just not fair!" JJ nearly screamed. "How dare you even mention the kids? Whatever problems you think we might have, it's strictly between you and me!"

"Is that so? Do you know Mickey fell asleep on the rug, by the door, waiting for you to come back home tonight, so he could tell you how he won his drawing contest this weekend?"

"I was at work, Will. I can't always be at home and you knew that before we even started dating. Why is it such an issue now?"

"Did you also know that Henry is being bullied at school?"

"What? When did that happen?"

"A month ago."

Will's words left JJ speechless. A month ago? Surely not a coincidence that their last official case had been a month ago, too.

"That's right, Jennifer. He never told you about it, because he didn't want to add to your worries. You were constantly on the phone with Emily and the team, so you never noticed the signs."

"Okay, so I did not. Did you, though?" She said challengingly.

"Yes. I knew right away. Henry only came clean on Friday when the teacher called me to go get him from school."

"The teacher called?" JJ gasped. This was news to her.

"Yes. Oh, wait, weren't you going through old case files at that moment? Yes, I believe you were."

"Stop meddling with my work. It's not the reason why you hate me."

"I never said I hated you. In fact, I said that I love you. Which is why I need to do this…" He turned around, taking a step towards the living room, with the blanket now dragging on the floor, behind him.

"No, this is not over! You don't just get to pour it all out on me and leave. That's not how it works!"

"It doesn't actually work, JJ. Not anymore." He replied, hinting at their relationship instead.

After hearing that, she wasn't sure if she even wanted to fight for him anymore. At that moment she felt tired. Upset. Disappointed. She needed time to cool off and figure out her next move.

* * *

Richard and Sasha had made it back to Paris. He was enraged that this entire get-away had been all for nothing and it had not brought him any closer to Zenum. Instead, it revolved around his precious Bella, possibly executing some big name from the criminal world. He'd never let that happen. He knew Bella wouldn't mind, but that was not the point. He had once vowed to protect her and he would do so until the last breath he'd take.

Richard was having a relaxing evening, lounging on the terrace of his home, with a glass of tasty red wine on the side, overlooking Paris at night.

_"__It's beautiful, isn't it?"_ He heard a small voice, very clearly.

Instinctively, he turned around, but nobody was there.

_"__I've never seen a city, as beautiful as this one. And you know I'm very well-traveled."_ The voice came up once again and Richard still did not see a single soul nearby.

Was he losing his mind?

He stared at the bottle, wondering exactly how much he had drank already. He only remembered pouring himself one glass and he wasn't even halfway done with it.

_"__You wanna know about my day?"_ The young voice asked cheerfully.

He decided to not even fight this, whatever it was. A hallucination? His imagination? Memories, flying back? Whatever it was, he enjoyed it. Those words, that small voice…he remembered it all, but he wasn't opposed to being reminded, yet one more time.

"Of course you want to know! You always ask me about my day. Okay, so I flanked the stupid math test at school, but before you yell at me, just bear in mind that it is not realistic to expect a child to be good at everything! And you can't deny I'm great with languages and other subjects."

The voice kept on speaking and he just relaxed against the soft, extra cushioned garden-like bed, allowing himself to enjoy whatever his subconscious would chose to remind him of.

"My teacher asked for a parent or a guardian to finally go visit the school. There's this orientation day where the teachers are supposed to tell you what they think would be the best future career path for me, based on my performance."

Those words made him wince.

"Yeah, I know you can't show your face publicly, as yourself. I told some dumb lie, so the teacher would drop it. Plus, do we really need her to tell me about my future career? Come on, we both know what that would be!"

The young girl said innocently, but then Richard heard a new voice. It was his voice.

"I really don't want you to go down this dark career path, mon cœur." He heard himself say to the girl that he always called 'my heart', in French.

"Too late now." He could swear that, along with hearing her cute voice, he could also see her smirk in his face, now that his eyes were closed and everything seemed like a movie.

"Don't be like that, come on. You've always known exactly who I am and exactly what my life will be like. You know, you should consider yourself lucky. Not many kids have a carefully thought-out life plan for themselves, by the age of ten." She continued speaking and it felt like she was right there, next to him.

He smiled, but it pained him. He missed her presence.

"Plus, I know I'll always have you, to save me from any danger. I'm not scared. I can't wait!" She added.

"My sweet little baby, please wait a little longer before making such plans for yourself. Those are big decisions and you are just a child…" Richard heard his voice once again and he remembered having the same exact conversation, using the same words and same intonation with this girl, many years ago.

"Let me repeat this, because I don't think I made myself clear the first time – you knew everything about me and you signed up for it. Now zip it and drink your wine and let me enjoy my book in silence. Oh and, je t'aime tellement! Now, can I have some wine, please?" She loved telling him how much she loved him. It was their little thing. They'd call each other nicknames and they had the best inner jokes in the world. They were a duo that nobody could mess with and if they dared to try – they surely would never win against them.

Also, that girl was a master manipulator. She had worked her magic with her sweet talk before she asked for wine.

"No! You already had a few sips with the dinner. That's enough for tonight." Richard heard himself reply. "Did you pack your suitcases for Lisbon? Remember, it's going to be at least two weeks this time, so make sure you grab anything you might need."

He had never been stern with her. He'd let her sip on wine if she wanted to, making sure she didn't feel restrained when it came to drinking, smoking, or doing other stupid things. In his mind, if she wasn't prohibited to do them, she wouldn't even find them fun to do. Which, years later, had proven to be a damn good way to go.

"I only packed one suitcase. I figured I could go shopping once we get there. What? Oh, don't give me that look! You don't want me to go around, looking like a French tourist, do you? I have to blend in, thus, I have to go buy clothes at the local shops. Duh! You boys know nothing about girls, I swear!" She folded her hands and looked away from him. "Now, when we get there, can I try Ginjinha?"

"If that's a fizzy drink, then yes, you can." He replied. "And fine, shopping it is. Jesus, I'll go bankrupt with you around." He laughed, but the truth was there was nothing he loved doing more than to watch her drool over clothes.

She wasn't big on spending a lot of money, but occasionally she'd want to go shopping. She hated doing that with the kids from her school, because they acted all childish and she was annoyed. All they wanted was fast food and the brand new sneakers from whatever brand. She, however, had an eye for luxury looking items. She owned one too many dresses and she even got away with wearing the tiniest heels, to some events where Richard could take her along with him.

"Ehm, well, it's infused ginja berries…and those are sour cherries by the way." She had told him.

"Infused in what?" Richard was a smart man, he knew this girl had an agenda. She always did.

"Well, in order for it to turn into a liquor, typical for Lisbon, they're infused in alcohol…" She bit her lip. "But it's sour cherry! See? It's practically fruit…but to drink…"

"No! You are ten years old! You already get away with way too much wine."

"But it's France! Come on, it's Paris! You don't want me to grow up and turn into a sloppy drunk, making a fool out of myself in my teens, when hanging out with my friends!"

"That does not worry me one tiny bit. What preoccupies me is that you refuse to make friends your own age and, instead, you make friends with my friends! You need to have extra activities, you know, some fun after school." Richard had tried his best to argue with her, on many occasions, but she always refused to participate in anything that involved children.

"Your friends are awesome and they teach me all the coolest stuff! And I do have things to do after school, I go to dance class, remember? Which reminds me – how am I going to finish my dance semester if I move to Lisbon now?"

"I've already searched for dance schools over there, don't worry. And since it's a quick move, you won't be going to a local school. I've enrolled you in the international school, you'll be speaking in English."

"I don't like English." She said with a grimace. "I'd rather learn Portuguese and go to a normal school, not for privileged rich foreigners, as usual. Please?"

"In two months? It's not even worth trying. And it's fairly impossible." Richard had no doubt in his mind she would try, anyway.

"Yes, I don't mind. Watch me! I just want to go to a normal school. Please?"

"Alright, I'll make the arrangements tomorrow. Now come give me a hug and enjoy your book, sweetheart." He told her, handing her a peach juice and some snack bar. He had previously grabbed them from the kitchen, knowing that she'd join him right after her evening shower. She always did that. no matter how tired she was, she'd always bring her book or her school assignments, and she'd sit where he was, and study silently. Sometimes he'd find her curled into a ball, sound asleep, with her head resting over her textbook. But she would always refuse to go to bed before him and she would wait for as long as she needed to, whenever he had a work call to finish, e-mails to reply or whatever new project to work on.

"Thank you for putting up with me, even though you technically are not obliged to." She whispered in his ear while making sure her tiny hands would cover as much of him as possible, as she hugged him.

"I do it because I love you, my koala bear. You are the best kid one could ever dream of having."

After that, Richard heard silence. He tried hard to keep the memory going, but that was all he was able to hear and remember of that day, many years ago.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**IMPORTANT: THE LAST PART IS ENTIRELY A FLASHBACK FROM RICHARD'S PAST! It starts in the present when he's drinking wine on the terrace, and everything else is a Flashback!**

**"rmpcmfan" **Richard won't ever give Bella up! And yes, in their line of work (which, for Richard is still undefined officially lol), it is extremely hard to get a new life and forget about things you've seen or done. His protective instincts kick wild, when it comes to Bella's well-being and "new life". You will hear more about Bella in the story, maybe you'll see her in flashbacks, too ;) As for Emily, that super secret case that nobody talks about really screwed her up. Rossi keeps telling her she needs help about it, but there's only this much denial Emily could muster before she breaks. Question is: will she break and hurt herself or someone else...or will she break (emotionally) and go search for help? Will Emily Prentiss, for once, do the right thing? LOL!**  
**

**"Nichole"** There are a few questions that I won't ever give a Yes/No answer to and yours was one of them :) A lot of people are rooting for it to be true, so it won't be fair if I spoiled anything big, for the ones who don't want to know before things get revealed in the story :) But I can tell you this much: Emily was pregnant at 15, now add Angie's 23 years of age to the mix and you can see the math doesn't really add up :P Also, Emily turned into Lauren only about 10 years ago, so... :) But...anything is possible, maybe there will be twists and turns! And one thing I can say with **absolute certainty:** Angie and Reid are **NEVER** happening (as a couple! Because they might become friends and hang out, but never romantically!)!

**Guys/Girls,** my idea is not the craziest, most insane and unbelievable thing in the world. It's just a story that I like to write in my free time and I share with people online and it would obviously not be everyone's cup of tea. Everyone chooses to read the stories they enjoy, this is our passtime and we should all be happy, spending time on this website :)

Sadly, I can admit that Angie is not Rossi's identical twin brother, who changed his gender and has undergone insane new high-tech revitalizing treatments, so he now looks 23 and is out there to fool everyone and destroy the world with his telekinetic superpowers, as a girl nonetheless. That would have been super original, but it isn't what I'm writing about lol.

I'm just a sweet, bubbly gal who likes detective mysteries/suspense and is writing in a language that is _**not**_ native to her. I sometimes write on my commute to work, or while waiting in a line somewhere. It makes me feel good and it's just an ordinary little thing I do. I'm not a writer or a genius, sadly hehehe!


	85. Always & Forever

** CHAPTER 85**

_**ALWAYS & FOREVER**_

Sunday evening, going back to the Academy dorms building, Angie and Bryan noticed boxes in front of every dorm room. They figured it must be the second care package sending, but they weren't too excited about it. Bryan waved it off, he already knew he wasn't going to get anything. Angie was not expecting anything from anyone, ever in life, so she was good.

To their surprise, there were two boxes in front of their room. One per each, although both of them thought the boxes were for the other person.

It took Bryan by surprise. He almost looked scared, as if he could not believe anyone even knew he was there.

Walking in, they put the boxes on their beds and tended to them only after taking their shoes off, so they could get comfortable and open their packages.

Bryan seemed beyond confused, going through the multiple energy bars and snacks that were stuffed inside.

"Who is it from?" Angie smiled and he did not have an answer for her. There was a card of two people, a boy and a girl, holding hands, but it was not signed.

"Who is _yours_ from?" He tried to sit on her bed and watch her open the box, but she insisted on having some privacy during that process.

Bryan had been very stoic, very cold and very distant while opening his box. Angie had a feeling she, herself, was about to get a whole lot more emotional than that, judging by the appearance of her box.

Bryan went to take a shower, giving her privacy, as she had requested.

Angie sighed, running her fingers on top of the box. It had been sprayed with silver glitter and it was now stuck to her fingers. She laughed, watching it fall back on top of the box once she clapped her hands together, above it.

It was wrapped with a beautiful bow, a bit clumsy, but it still looked beautiful to her. It once again only said 'Wild Card' on top, so she wondered if there would be a card on the inside, like last time, because, she knew it was from the same person. She could feel the scent of their perfume, even before she opened the box.

Opening the package, the first thing on top was a brand new cover for the tablet she had received in the first care package last week – the pink glitter box. She did not own one before that, nor a computer, and she needed either one of those electronics, for her studies. During tests and practice, Trainees were given tablets to use, but they had to give them back after the class, which meant that she could not do her research from her dorm. She owned an old phone, which had been switched off since the moment she had stepped foot at the Academy and she had no intention of switching it back on again. So, as from a week ago, she now owned a tablet and as of seconds ago that tablet had a beautiful cover, with a picture of Paris by night.

Then there was another batch of fifty food tickets and she could not be any happier. She was slim, but she loved food.

Her fingers quickly scanned through the contents of the box, but the material things were not the focus of her search.

"Yes!" She said victoriously, finally spotting the card, on the bottom of the box.

She made herself comfortable in a corner of her bed and started reading, before she had even seen all the things in the box.

_"__I know the Academy tradition says I'm supposed to put some smart ass, cliché quote in here._

_But I'm not one to follow. I'm one to lead. And if I couldn't lead you through life, I'll at least try to help you find your way out of the emotional mess you found yourself in, because of me…_

_You say you know what you mean to me. Always have._

_But, you see, you don't know a thing._

_You have absolutely no clue what you represent to me. What you __mean__ to me. What you __do__ to me._

_There is not a day that went by since we last saw our "real" selves, that I haven't thought about what I might have done differently. Could it have all been different? What if I never lost you? What if you forgave me, after you lost me?_

_I'm good at disappointing people and I am even better at leaving. You know that. And it pains me that you do, because it means you've suffered the consequences of my actions. Twice, actually. And I have no plausible excuse for what I did to you. I just know I __had__ to. __You__ know I had to!_

_I also know that this message has to be about __you__, but I have to make it about __me__, so that it would be about __you__. And I know you are smart enough to know what that means._

_Profile me, I dare you!_

_Analyze my every word._

_Put my behavior under microscope._

_Study my facial expressions when you are around me._

_I dare you!_

_Because I know how good you are at seeing the truth, when you've been dared. And since I clearly suck at letting you know how much I love you, I figured my only chance is to make you figure it out yourself._

_Because I do, "Angela"! I love you. Truly. Madly. Purely. Deeply. Unconditionally. And you, not wanting to let me back into your life one more time, would never change the way I feel for you. Ever! Nothing ever will. Because you, precious child, are worthy of all the love in the world and I wish you to find that special someone who would be able to give it all to you, since you clearly don't want it from me no more._

_And if you ever decide to give me another chance, know that I will welcome you with open arms and I will spend the rest of my days on Earth, showering you with my love. I shall never make the mistake of leaving you, ever again. I shall never cause you pain._

_I will love you..._

_Always & Forever!"_

Angie gulped when she reached the end of the letter. And then she read it two more times, studying every dot, every space, every letter, applying everything she knew about linguistics. She profiled the person who wrote it and the final outcome was that these words were pure, they were real and they had come from the heart. Angie had no doubts about that.

The sloppily drawn heart at the end of the letter made her smile, but everything else was making her want to cry.

But Angela Hunter did not cry. Never has. Never will.

She remembered the last time she had cried, in a fit of anger and driven by despair. She had been only just a child, young and scared. Someone brave had given her some pretty good advice on that cold and terrifying night that she could never forget, so she then spent her entire life without any tears at all. She got creative and found other ways to sulk, but no tears came out from her eyes, ever again. Apart from two specific times, when Angela remembered bawling her eyes out uncontrollably. But those were her only two relapses. No more tears. She dealt with pain differently. She would sometimes joke that she was immune to pain and people would even believe her, because she would not even flinch at times when normal people would cry from pain, both emotional and physical pain.

And yet, after the third time she read the card, she was finding it harder and harder to keep her emotions in check. Usually, in times like those, she'd sit in front of a wall and fix a dot on it, with her eyes, and stare at it for hours. Or if she was in public, she'd play music on her earphones and she'd pretend to be immersed into the music, while in reality she'd be busy, trying to command herself not to blink, not to breathe, not to cry.

Her lower lip quivered and she was now finding it harder to take breaths. Was the air in the room too stuffy? Or was it something else?

Her index finger brushed over the two parts of the letter, where the words '_I love you'_ were written.

Then, for a brief moment, she allowed herself to remember the things she had been trying to forget. She closed her eyes and re-lived a very important moment of her life, from many years ago.

_"__I've never had someone like you in my life."_ Angie's tender voice sounded, in her own memory.

_"__I once had someone like you in my life. Not for long. And I've been feeling the pain and the void after their loss, until you came around."_ Another voice sounded. Soft voice, very soothing voice. A voice that Angela needed in her life. But, a voice that had hurt her, fooled her, said goodbye to her, twice. A voice that soothed her, but also a voice that she was now scared of – the voice from all of her dreams, but also the voice from all of her nightmares.

She shivered, remembering every intonation, every breath that person took as they spoke.

_"__I really like this city. I have friends here. I was accepted in a dance academy! It almost makes me feel…you know, normal again."_ Angie said, her voice sounding much younger.

_"__I know you like it. I've been thinking, why don't we settle here? You know the language. You'll go to a good school and keep dancing. You'll keep your friends…"_

_"__You and I both know that this is not what our lives are supposed to look like."_ Angie's young voice countered.

_"__Why not? Don't we deserve to be normal, too? We have been through enough. You need to be happy."_

_"__What about your own happiness? Do you really want to dump everything, for me?"_

Angie then remembered the way that person had giggled after her question.

_"__My happiness is you, baby."_ The other person had stated, caressing Angie's cheek.

Subconsciously, Angie now did the same, hoping that the warmth of her own hand would remind her of the other person's touch. It did not.

_"__But you have a life. You also have friends. You have a job, too. I'm nothing but an obstacle for you."_

_"__Yes, I have a life. And you, my precious little diamond, are now part of it. I cannot imagine a life without you in it. What life would that be?"_

_"__A sad and very boring one, indeed!"_ Angela had clearly been a little firecracker since an early age.

_"__And this is why I love you. Because you laugh, you see the world in all of its colors and no matter how dangerous this is, you always find the positive, in everything and everyone. You, mon amour, will go far in life. You will do amazing things. And I want to be there, next to you, sharing your happiness with you."_

_"__Well, I want that, too."_ Angie remembered leaning into that person's touch, allowing them to cup her face completely, with both hands, while their lips lingered on her forehead. It had been a sloppy, soggy kiss and, at the time, she had complained about that, but she now treasured the memory of it.

Angie missed those hands, that touch, her kisses goodnight.

_"__If I love you always…"_ The other person had started to ask, but Angie had been quick enough to answer.

_"__Yes, I will love you forever!"_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**EVERYONE:  This short chapter is the start of an important story arc, about Angie's background, fears, old and new relationships with different people...and her fighting against her fears and other obstacles. Remember that every vague comment now is tied to something that will make sense once you know what is REALLY going on *wink***

**"Spooladio" **WOW, okay, your theories are way cool, as always! I replied to all of them via Inbox! As far as clues go, there has been lots, but with this current chapter they'll start to pop up even more. You'll learn a bit more about Angie's background and childhood and about her fears and the reasons why she doesn't let people close to her. Remember, the readers will figure out Angie's story before the BAU or other characters know, as it is crucial for the story (and for her future interactions with other characters) that her real "identity" stays a secret for a long while.**  
**

**"rmpcmfan" **The paper Henry accidentally brought back home is Richard's "break up" letter to Emily when he left, at the end of their week together. Yes, his phone number is on it. Sneak it back or confront Emily? Well, let's just have faith that ChayChay knows _exactly_ how to handle Emily in such a delicate situation *wink*. Oh Emily sure will freak out if she noticed it was missing lol! As for Richard, yeah I'm tempted to write more flashbacks with him and the young girl in his life.

**"Natasha36"** Thanks :)! Will _does_ have a point, yes. But he's handling JJ so wrong at this moment. This won't be a big storyline between them, but you will learn how this unfolds and what happens to them as a couple. As for JJ, trust that she will thread VERY lightly with Emily, given the delicacy of the situation. And LOL, that Rossi theory was just to prove a point that I'm not writing something sooo farfetched and insane to believe. But I'm glad it made you laugh lol, we all need more laughter right now!

**"sweetkid45"** Wow, new reviewer, hello, nice to have you here and thanks for writing something to me :)! I've previously sent you a private msg (Inbox) on this website! Now, I agree with you 100% about Will, but I had to write him in for this scene. He won't be main focus in the story, only just merely mentioned when needed. There's like one more scene where he appears, in connection to what just happened between him and JJ. I wish they had paired JJ with someone different, on the show, too! There are TONS of Emily/JJ moments in my story (NO romantic relation ever, they just profess their **friendly** love occasionally lol). The main characters I focus on are Emily, JJ (LOVE a strong female **friendship** bond!) and sometimes Rossi, out of the BAU team, but everyone else gets a mention and an occasional appearance in the story. As for the jumps, hehe I know...I'm using fragmented narrative to tell a story with many characters. I want it to have the feel of a new season, each chapter being a different 'episode', with different scenes, using multiple characters. This way I can tell more things at once and I like the challenge to write it like this :). Although I fully realize I'm not a genius or a TV writer lol, but I try to give it my best shot, this story takes up A LOT of my time and it's my little baby project that I'm proud of :)! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and thanks again for the kind review :)!


	86. Why Am I That Way?

** CHAPTER 86**

_**WHY AM I THAT WAY?**_

JJ walked in the bullpen, looking like a mess in the morning after having slept in the bed, on her own. Her hair was tied in a loose pony tail, she had not bothered applying any sort of make-up that day and the bags under her eyes looked worse than even Emily's.

"JJ…" Reid hurried to catch up with her, on her way to her office.

"I'm fine!" She stated coldly, like she was trying to convince herself of it.

"But…JJ…" He said, in that sweet voice of his, a voice full of worry for his best friend.

"I'M FINE!" JJ said rudely before slamming the door in his face.

Every now and then JJ would have her moments when she'd close herself inside of her shell and she won't let anyone in. Not even Spencer. Especially not _him_.

"Reid, you okay, man?" Luke asked him, seeing him walk back to his desk, in a daze.

"I'm not sure. Is 'okay' quantifiable?" He replied without slowing his pace.

Luke watched him walk by, like a ghost.

"Is the BAU cursed or something?" Tara commented.

She had been enjoying her second cup of coffee, quietly reading the newspaper, when this scene just unfolded in front of her eyes.

"It sure looks this way." Luke shrugged and refilled his own coffee, making sure he would have enough energy to face a day that was starting like _that_.

* * *

"Hi, I'm, uh, Prentiss. Emily. Uh. Hi." She said weakly, knocking on a door and entering slowly.

"Hello, Agent Prentiss. It's been a while. Come on in, take a seat, make yourself comfortable." A woman, older than Emily, welcomed her warmly.

Emily tugged on her pants twice and licked her lips before she took a step. She wasn't sure how to do this. She had been in that office many times before, but it was always for work, with minor personal issues to discuss. This time it was quite the opposite and she was not a fan of change.

"Would you like some-…" The woman started off, only to be interrupted by Emily right away.

"I'd like some peace. And quiet. And maybe a life that is not so exquisitely complicated." Emily stated. "Or Tequila, that would be fine too."

"I was, uh, going to offer water or tea, but…okay…" The woman played with her nails, which had always been a tell for Emily – she was making her nervous. It had to be the other way around, instead.

"Dr. Allen, I appreciate you taking time to squeeze me into your schedule and I apologize in advance if I come off weird, and I mean, even more weird than my usual weird. I'm just not sure how to…" Emily trailed off. She wasn't even sure what she was unsure about.

"Agent Prentiss…"

"_Emily_. Please." She insisted. Being called _Agent Prentiss_ was just putting useless additional pressure on her.

"Emily, in your line of work, it is absolutely normal to feel confused sometimes. You should know by now that we don't get all the answers we want in life and we have to learn how to deal with that."

"I'm okay with not getting my answers. What I'm not okay with is the gruesome amount of questions I've accumulated recently."

The woman laughed. She had been a therapist for many, many years, yet never had she ever heard someone speak with the irony Emily oozed. She remembered her first sessions with her, years ago, when she was new at the BAU. Her old patient file was stored somewhere and she specifically remembered making bullet points about this woman. Stubborn. Opinionated. Focused. Hard working. Those, and many more, were the words she had found suitable. Now, years later, she was dealing with an elder, more mature and much more powerful woman, yet, she could still check _all_ the boxes.

She had been with Emily after the Doyle case blew up in her face. That woman had done wonders for Emily when she came back from the dead. It had been one of the hardest, if not _the_ hardest moment in Emily's life and along with the support of her friends, she also owed a lot to this woman.

Then, one day, she had mysteriously stopped making appointments. Dr. Martha Allen had done her research and she knew that Emily was very much still operative at the FBI, which only meant that she was in some sort of denial about something. And that only meant that one day she would come knocking on her door, stuttering, like she had just done a minute ago.

"Mind letting me hear some of those questions?" Martha asked, wondering if this new territory, one that sounded very personal, would make Emily comfortable enough to share.

It did not.

It made Emily sigh and blush and she was at the loss of words. But Martha gave her enough time to gather her thoughts before she'd have the courage to speak.

"Why am I that way?" Emily shot the first question, one she considered as the most important of them all.

"Why do I hurt people?" She then continued.

"Why do I push them away?"

"Why do I always leave?"

"What is wrong with me?"

Her tongue ran over her lips, to wet them, as they felt incredibly dry, unlike her eyes.

"Why do they love me anyway?"

Martha opened her mouth, but decided to stay quiet and let Emily pour it all out.

"Why am I the reason they continuously sacrifice their own happiness, for me?"

She was thinking about JJ and how lately she had basically been living, just to make Emily laugh. Nothing else mattered. JJ had made a fool out of herself in public too many times. She was not an airhead. She hated being perceived as one. Being a young, beautiful and blonde female at the FBI meant that she had to work five times harder than anyone else, if she wanted to be taken seriously. And she did just that, only for it to come time to scratch all of her efforts and to play a clown, for someone else's happiness.

Emily appreciated that. But it hurt her, because she knew what this act was doing to JJ's ego.

While Emily thought about all of that, Martha decided to speak up.

"So, just to be clear, this has nothing to do with work?" She asked with caution. Being one of the FBI's official therapists, she had to know if she was dealing with work issues or private issues.

"No…" Emily rolled her eyes. "Maybe a little bit, yes. I mean, it is because of work that I have all these questions in my head right now, but it is not because of work that I'm so confused about everything."

"That made perfect sense to me before I tried to put it in words." Emily commented, feeling like she hadn't been eloquent enough.

"No, it makes perfect sense to me, too." Martha smiled.

Emily allowed herself to observe that smile. It was not too wide, yet, not too shallow. It was contained, small, but genuine. Emily had tried other therapists over the year, but none of them were as genuine as Martha. That woman had a certain warmth to her and Emily trusted her with things she had never said out loud, to anyone else.

"I like you, too, Emily." Martha said, out of the blue.

"Huh?" Emily groaned. She was _just_ thinking that, but she never said it out loud, so where did Martha's sudden outburst come from?

"Well, I think the profiler just got profiled by her therapist." Martha let out a small laugh, once again, a genuine one.

"See? This is why I like you. God, I came here in a ball of mess and nerves. You are so incredibly nice and you make people feel good. This is what I like about you. And you are _so_ smart." Emily was usually reserved with her compliments, but the current situation called for an exception.

Martha thought about Emily's words for a second before she hesitantly asked her a question.

"Do I remind you of _her_, in that way?"

Emily suddenly froze. She did not expect that.

"Emily, I remind you that whatever you say here, stays here, between you and me. And I can tell that you are still having issues with that…"

"I'm working on those issues. I need to do this on my own." Emily eyed the water dispenser, suddenly feeling thirsty.

Why was this woman bringing that thing back up, so casually? Emily had barely even told her about that, years ago, and she thought Martha didn't even remember. It was kind of a low blow, one that Emily was not sure how to handle.

Martha handed her a clean glass and she helped herself to a full glass of fresh water.

"I have one more question for you, Emily."

She looked up at the woman, as if she was giving her permission to ask.

"Why are you here today?"

"Because Rossi said-…" Emily cut herself off. She had started replying, honestly, at that, but her words only served to make her realize something she wasn't seeing herself.

"Oh." She added.

Martha did not speak.

"I mean, yes, I understand that it is not ideal to be here because someone else told me to be here." Emily shrugged. "And I know this will sound like a lame excuse, but I _am_ doing this for me. I'm here because I want to be here. I'm here because I want you to tell me that it is normal that I feel this way…"

Martha pursed her lips.

"You're not going to tell me that, are you?" Emily sighed.

She knew it was childish to hope to hear an ideal version, a perfect explanation.

"Not even close." Martha shook her head.

"I have one more trouble. Last month my team worked a case that went horribly wrong. Everyone keeps saying that I shouldn't blame myself for what happened and I don't want to get into the gruesome details, but our victim…" Emily sucked in a breath. Re-living this situation was giving her anxiety. "I had had, I swear she was safe, I was holding her one second and then…"

Martha could already figure out what had happened.

"Look, Emily…what happened to you last month, it has happened many times, to other Agents. Each one deals with it differently. So, it's not about the situation, it's not about what happened. It's about what is making you draw a direct parallel between _that_ case and something that happened in your personal life. You might not even be aware of it, but something is there. Something happened. You might have repressed it to the point where you don't even have the memory of it anymore, but it happened, and you need to work through that, if you want to keep your job. Because, as much as I like you, I have to put it in your file if I deem you unstable for the job, you understand that, right?"

"Yes, I do." Emily nodded.

Going to an FBI therapist was risky. Agents were free to talk about anything, but they never knew if by saying something, they were doing themselves harm. At the very least, they might get taken off the field or off active duty, for a while.

"I know exactly what I'm comparing it to. And I just can't shake it. I tried repressing the memory and it just blew up in my face. It's like…like I can see it everywhere. Like it's staring me in the eyes and telling me I'm not good enough. Like something I can't change, no matter what I do." Emily was clearly confused. She spoke about a situation, then a thing and then it sounded awfully much like she was talking about a person. Which one was it? Or was it all of the above?

"It's a good thing you know that. You need to figure out why that case reminded you of this thing. And then you need to find the differences. Only _then_ would you be able to get the image of that girl off your mind, as harsh as it sounds, but you need to shake it off and move on."

"That's exactly what Rossi said." Emily said with a deep sigh.

"He's a smart man." Martha had known David for many years now. She had, occasionally, been helping him with some therapy sessions, but she had also become a friend of his, along the way. They had attended numerous psychology conventions together.

Emily spent the next few minutes with her head buried in her hands, trying to make sense of it all.

"I've lost sleep because of this. And the more I think about it, the more I don't understand it. She died. And I let her die. I watched her die and I couldn't do anything to save her." Emily finally spoke.

"It was _her_ choice." Martha reminded her.

She wouldn't admit it out loud, but someone else from Emily's team had already seeked help from her, when it came to this specific case. Martha knew all the details, including the reason why that girl, their victim, had wound up dead.

"Yes, but she was _my_ responsibility!" Emily countered quickly.

At that moment, Martha saw a protective side of Emily - a soft, yet fierce side, almost…mother-like.

"No, she was not. The man you put in jail was your responsibility. You caught him, you fought him, you risked your life to make sure he would never hurt another person. _This_ is your responsibility. And you did everything by the book. Emily, you have been cleared for duty. Nobody is blaming you for what happened after that."

"Oh yeah? People whisper when I walk down the main hallway. I know people think I'm an idiot now and that's okay, because I firmly believe in the same thing. However, it bothers the crap out of me when people start targeting my team, for something none of us could have predicted or prevented!" In her small rant, Emily did not even realize it, but this was the first time she subconsciously admitted something.

"Like you said, _none_ of you could have prevented it, including _you_!" Martha smirked, calling Emily out on that slip.

Apparently, she was blaming herself, because it helped her conscious but subconsciously, Emily Prentiss knew this was not her fault.

"And those people, do they even know the specifics of your case? Or did they just hear about the outcome?"

"No. Not many people know what actually happened in there. The official information is that the girl died, but the circumstances surrounding her death are not disclosed to just anyone. Only high clearance personnel, of course, since they had to investigate and clear me out."

"Is it possible that this case triggered you and you are now transferring old, unresolved issues, onto it?"

"Definitely." Emily had basically already confirmed that, a few minutes ago.

"Emily, we are dancing around the same thing." Martha finally said it.

She had spent half an hour now, trying to make Emily say it herself. No matter how Martha changed the words and tried to put it in Emily's head, it was just not coming out of Emily's mouth. The first step to healing would be pouring it all out. All Emily did was hint at the existence of a mysterious other reason, without elaborating on it, no matter how many chances Martha had created for her.

"I'm going to have to cut this short. I'm confusing you even more. You did well to follow Rossi's advice and go talk to someone, but I'm afraid I'm not that one. You do not trust me. I don't think you are ever going to be completely honest and open with me, at least not about _that_ thing." Martha said politely, so that it wouldn't look like she had randomly decided to kick Emily out.

Emily shrugged. The woman was right – despite Emily's good intentions, this talk was going nowhere and needed to be cut short.

* * *

Angie grinned at her own reflection in the mirror early in the morning after she had received her care package. She was eager to try out some of the things she had so graciously been given by someone she so fiercely tried to cut out of her life.

Her fingers fumbled with a package before its contents spilled out a bit, as she finally ripped it open.

"Oh my God, it's pink!" She squealed quietly, as to not wake Bryan up.

It wasn't even six o'clock in the morning, but she had been way too impatient to wait to try this out after classes. It had to be done as soon as possible, even if it meant less sleep for her. At least now she had the bathroom all to herself.

She applied a thick, even layer of the gooey face mask and she started making funny faces in the mirror. It almost made her feel like she was thirteen again. It had been the moment when she had discovered face masks and she had developed a mild obsession with those. In reality, she had been curious since the age of ten, but something had held her back until thirteen when that interest peeked again.

She remembered her teenage night time routine with someone else – they would sit on the couch, with colorful faces and a cup of hot chocolate. It had been the time when a lot of things had changed in her life, yet again. But those were great changes, possibly the best changes she had ever experienced.

She placed the box on the sink and looked for one other thing – the face cream. There was a set of day cream and night cream, the expensive ones, super moisturizing. She remembered when she had first tried those out, at fourteen. She had been eyeing those cute little cream packages for a year, in the bathroom. She had gathered courage for weeks, before asking if she could try that cream. It wasn't for her skin at such a young age, but she had always been impatient to grow up, plus, she really loved the way that cream smelled. And now that she was somewhat grown up, she finally owned a set of her own.

The day cream was now waiting to be applied when her face mask would be rinsed off after the fifteen minutes that it required to stay on. Angie grabbed a few other things from the box and set them on the little hanging shelf inside the shower cabin - a set of shampoo and conditioner that smelled like wild berries, but best of all – they were the exact type of product for her hair type; and a caramel scented shower gel. Then she placed the coconut shimmer body lotion on the counter over the sink. This was great, she was now surrounded by all the products that reminded her of…

The second she thought of that person, she frowned. Mentally, she went over the things the person had written in that note, because she was nerdy enough to have memorized it. It was bittersweet. More bitter, if she had to be honest. Everything about this situation was making her feel even more confused and, weirdly, more alone.

And it wasn't like she was enjoying this face mask, either. Yes, it was nice and it would surely help her skin feel better, but it wasn't fun doing it on her own. It was actually kind of depressing.

Looking over at all the things she had received in the box, she once again got the confirmation that yes, she had a somewhat luxurious taste for clothes and beauty products, and yes, she appreciated it when gifted such items, but no, they didn't mean a thing to her when all she had to pair them with was her own company. It sucked.

Then she noticed a small box that she hadn't seen the day before. Opening it, she sucked in a breath, trying to steady her emotions. She found a dainty ring inside, so tiny that it would only fit a child's finger. She remembered that ring. Had this other person kept it, all these years? Her lower lip quivered, remembering the promise, the vow she had taken when she had been given this ring. To that day, she stayed true to her words - she wanted nothing more out of life, but an 'Always & Forever', with that person by her side, despite the hurt, despite the betrayal, despite it all.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"Ducksdragonfly"** I'm glad you do :)! Yes, those memories are important to Angie (and to the story). Will only makes a brief appearance for this mini storyline for JJ, but I'm not his fan either. Always felt weird that JJ would get paired with him on TV, he always seemed uninterested). As for the letter: Hehe yeah, I wanted it to be a cute way of finding out, rather than JJ prying info out of Emily's mouth, because as we all know - Emily Prentiss won't speak about/admit to her troubles/worries/feelings...EVER! And the whole Richard thing confuses the crap out of her (because she has feelings for him) and also she feels ashamed because the "leaver" got "left" lol! I'm VERY tempted to insert more Richard/girl flashbacks, but I don't want them to confuse the readers, now that Angie just had a flashback of her own (with someone important), so I may wait a little for Richard's.

**"rmpcmfan"** Great, because there will be more flashbacks in the next chapters :)! I can't comment on WHO the girl with Richard is hehe. I can only confirm that he has not _always_ been in her life, because of the job but also for other reasons. As for the girl's "mother", it's the one you'd least expect LOL! (One day I'll have lots of explaining to do, but it will all make perfect sense!)

**"zhangxinna"** Oh snap, girl...you really went hard on Will there, lol! I agree, I'm not his fan, I only needed to give JJ some distress in the story, for what will happen next. Will on TV never looked like he gave a -beep- about JJ and it disturbed me. He seemed nonchalant and their relationship seemed forced, which sucks, because I really like JJ. As for "more of this story", don't worry, it won't end anytime soon! I've uploaded HALF of the chapters that I've already written and I'm constantly writing more! I can confirm that the person who wrote this note to Angie has _**NO**_ intimate/love connection to (or such interest in) her! And remember: names are like clothes - you wear them, but they don't define who you really are, underneath ;)!

**"sweetkid45"** Of course, I love this two-way feedback thing with my readers! And I'm the bubbliest lil' monster you'll ever meet lol! I really appreciate every person who takes their time to reviews and I love hearing everyone's theories as the story keeps going. I hope to keep hearing from you :)!


	87. Because It Was Home

** CHAPTER 87**

_**BECAUSE IT WAS HOME**_

"Say _what_, again?" Angie sounded unimpressed. In fact, she was borderline pissed, but masking it up skillfully by pretending to be just a tad bit surprised.

The following day, after their morning classes, Dan had pulled her aside, discussing the IRS case she had just been working on and giving her feedback, but he had also given her an unexpected and very much unwanted piece of information, too.

"Agent Garrett personally requested that." Dan said.

"And Agent Seger was okay with it?" Angie raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely, she backed him up immediately."

"Ugh, just when I was starting to like her…" Angie rolled her eyes. This was definitely a setback in their friendly relationship.

"It's only five hours. You can choose when to go and even whom to go to. Garrett was kind enough to give me a list of available-…"

"Don't say that word!" Angie cringed.

She wasn't a fan of what Dan was making her do, nor the people she had to do it with.

* * *

"Hi, I'm Angela Hunter." She said confidently, walking in an office.

She had chosen a name from a list and it felt way too impersonal, even if it had been Clara who had kindly circled this woman's name, for Angie to choose. And yet, she didn't want to be there and she most definitely didn't want to talk to someone she did not know.

"Hello Angela, come on in. Make yourself comfortable." The woman said with a smile. "I'm Doctor Martha Allen. I've been doing this job for long enough to know that this is your first time here and that you hate my guts already."

Those words took Angie by surprise. Was she a shrink or was she a profiler?

"Mrs. Allen…I mean Dr. Allen, I don't want to come off rude and disrespectful. I apologize if I shall appear that way. But I don't like your job and I don't see how you, or any of your colleagues, can help me with something I don't need help with."

"Oh, no, it's alright. A whole bunch of Trainees had been involved in unfortunate incidents like that, or cases gone bad. They were fine, dealing with it on their own, you know, until they dropped out or got kicked out." Martha suppressed a smirk. She knew how to manipulate people.

Angie gulped. What if that was true? For a normal person, what Angie saw in Cuba surely had to be very depressing and stressful. She wasn't going to risk the Academy, only to appear tough and fine.

"Okay, I give up. It was so scary. I was on my own and I freaked out. I wanted to scream. I was-…"

"Oh, I love my job!" The therapist said, leaning back into her chair as she interrupted Angie's act. "I get to call people out on their bullshit and I get paid good money for it, too."

"And here I thought shrinks were supposed to be nice…" Angie rolled her eyes.

"Look, we don't have to discuss the case. We can talk about anything. You are stuck with me for five hours, one at a time, thank God…" She laughed. "So, why not make the most of our time? And I am, indeed, nice. Also, I'm a therapist, not a shrink."

"But the case is what got me here…" Angie was confused. Wasn't she there, so that this woman could figure out her weird lack of emotional distress? "Alright then. Ask me something." She let her take the lead, as she was not too experienced with these kinds of situations.

"Tell me about yourself. Your childhood. Do you have a photo of yourself as a child, on your phone? I'm curious. I have kids, too. I love kids." The woman had the sweetest smile on her lips, one that masked up for the underlining of that question. Angie was unable to figure out what this woman was doing.

"On second thought, let's talk about that case…" Angie sighed in despair.

She never spoke about her life. To anyone. It was surely not going to happen with someone she had just met.

"Alright then. What is your favorite food?"

"I love pizza and lasagna."

"You'd love Italy then."

"I thought so too…" Angie trailed off, remembering something from her past.

"Do you like to read?"

Angie nodded in reply.

"What genre are you interested in?" Martha was expecting to hear romance novels, maybe poems, maybe thrillers.

"Criminology."

"No, I meant outside of the Academy."

"Yes. Outside. I've always been into criminology and behavior analysis. I also like chemistry, which made me the weirdo in all of my schools."

"How many have you changed?"

"More than I can count."

For someone who walked in, declaring her negative feelings for Martha's profession, she sure was quite bubbly. The conversation was quick-paced and smooth so far.

"Tell me about your academic life. Which subjects did you like?"

"I liked chemistry and biology. I've always loved languages, too, but that was a given."

"How so?"

"Just…so." Angie shrugged. That was a question she could not answer, without mentioning her childhood and the reasons for her multi-lingual upbringing. So, she did not answer at all.

"I liked sports, too. But not like the traditional stuff. Whenever I could, I'd get in the cheer squad and I also did gymnastics and dance at school. At some point in my life I was fortunate enough to be able to attend an actual dance academy and I am very grateful for it." She was now smiling wide. Apparently, speaking about those things made her feel good.

"I did ice skating when I was young." Martha knew that if she wanted Angie to give her something, she had to give something back. She was establishing a relationship with someone who did not want to have one with her. That was challenging.

"Oh, this is such a graceful sport! I've tried it out, but it was very expensive and I wasn't good enough to get a scholarship, so I stuck with gymnastics for a while."

"Gymnastics is expensive, too."

"Yeah, but I knew the owners of the place and they'd let me clean the gym twice a week, so I was allowed to attend the classes for free. It was cool, I had fun. I'd play music and pretend like I was on a stage. I'd sing and dance with the mop. Yeah, I'm a weirdo, like I said."

"I don't find you weird."

"How so?"

"Well, you seem like a very well educated young lady, with good manners and you are very outspoken. What is weird about that?"

"My middle school final paper was on serial killers…" Angie started her long list of reasons why she was weird. "I sit in the most awkward positions and I like to climb trees." She chuckled. When she had been younger, she'd climb just about anything. Heights did not scare her at all. They thrilled her.

"I'm twenty-three years old and I still wear a bow in my hair, religiously. I sing in public and I'm the first one to start dancing, no matter where I am. I once sang Happy Birthday to a stranger on the tube after I heard them say on the phone that it was his birthday."

"The tube?"

"Sorry. The subway."

"Ooh , _that_ tube." Martha smiled. "So, you've lived in England?"

"For a little bit. Yeah."

"Did you like it?"

"Well, I mean, I literally _had_ to move there. I guess I liked it. Food was weird and I didn't make many friends. The people I knew wanted to go out and drink all the time and I just didn't fit in with them."

"So, what did you do instead?"

"I stayed home and I helped my-…" Angie cut herself off. She bit her bottom lip, preventing herself from saying the word she was about to say. "The person I was living with, at the time, I helped them with…stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, work stuff. I mean, I was working as well."

"So, you did nothing for fun?"

"I mean, we'd sometimes go to the theater…" Angie's eyes drifted off to the wall as she started remembering things. "We also lived near an ice-cream shop and I loved going there after work. We went mini golfing once, but we both sucked at it. We liked going out for walks and exploring different neighborhoods. We'd buy things from the small food shops we found and we'd go home and cook with the ingredients. We always made a mess in the kitchen, but the food was amazing. When we went out, we sometimes coordinated. Like, we'd both have something red on our clothes or we'd both have the same bracelet."

Martha was giving herself a mental pat on the shoulder. She had cracked this young girl so quickly. Angie was telling her so much about herself and her character, just by saying those random things, and she didn't even know it.

"Sounds like you did so many things..." Martha spoke, giving Angie a moment to breathe. "What was your favorite?"

"When we were home."

"Doing what?"

"Anything. It didn't really matter."

"Why?"

"Because it was ho-home." Angie's voice cracked a little and she masked it up gracefully by pretending to cough.

That one little confession made Martha look at her differently. She was kind of like a profiler – she had been building a profile of Angie since she saw her walk through the door. She would later on have to fill in her patient's sheet and she'd want to put accurate information and assumptions about the girl.

"Was that the only place that felt like a home to you?"

"No…" Angie said quietly. "Other places have felt like home, too."

"In England?"

"And not only."

"So, you have traveled quite a lot, huh?"

"Yeah. I am very grateful for that."

"To whom?"

"Uhm. People…"

"Anyone specific?"

"Not really. No."

"Well, tell me, Angela, thinking of those places that felt like home…was there anything at all that connected them? Maybe a familiar smell? Maybe the view from the windows?"

Angie bit her bottom lip again, slowly catching on to Martha's games. Damn, she was good.

"Uh-huh." She said weakly.

"What was it?" Martha's voice was so even and calm while she spoke. She did not whisper and she did not raise her voice, no matter what she said. Her questions almost sounded like affirmations, that was how even her voice was.

"It's not a _what_." Angie played with her thumb, soon directing her attention to the ring on her finger, twisting it around mercilessly.

"It's a _who_." She finally admitted.

Like Martha hadn't figured it out already.

"And where is that person now? Are they still in your life?"

"Well, after a couple of failed attempts, they are finally dead to me, so…" Angie shrugged, taking a bit more immature route when replying to that specific question.

"So, where is your home now?"

"I dunno…" Angie shrugged again. Ever since Martha had managed to make her talk about home, Angie had done a lot of shrugging, indicating her genuine confusion.

"If you had to imagine your perfect home, where would it be?"

"Where that person is!" Angie did not even blink before she replied. It was honest, rough and it came from the heart. If she had a second to think about it, she would have convinced herself not to say it out loud. But the words just slipped out.

"Is there any way you could fix things with them?"

"Yeah. They've been reaching out."

"Good. That's a good sign." Martha spoke, but then saw the way Angie shook her head, as if she was saying she wanted none of it. "Why not? Don't you want things to go back to normal again? You'd have a home again."

"Things have never been normal. That's kind of the point…" This time she sighed. "They understand me. They know me so well. They've never judged me."

"Sounds like a wonderful person to have by your side."

"No, it's the worst. Trust me."

"How so?" Martha was analyzing every blink of Angie's eyes as they spoke. At first, speaking of sports and school, Angie had been cheerful and vibrant. And then, speaking of home, the light in her just turned off, until there was nothing but darkness and sadness in her eyes. It was quite a quick change.

"Because they were the best person in my life. And then they dumped me, like I was trash. And I know you're going to say that they are reaching out now, but I've been burned twice. I ain't going to be burned again."

Martha gulped, wondering how hard a situation like this would be, on a twenty-three year old girl. Yes, she was legally considered an adult now, but she was at a tender age, where she needed a home and stability in her life.

"I hated math." Angie changed topic, because if she did not, she'd freak out and she might say something she'd later regret.

"But I thought you were good at chemistry. Shouldn't you be good at math, too?" Martha allowed her the change of topic. Ange had already shared more than enough personal information.

"Everyone tells me that. I don't know, I just sucked at math. In chemistry, you have the elements and the way they combine. Yes, there are also numbers, but those are secondary, to the elements. And I liked the idea of new things forming when two or more elements interact. I liked the chem labs at three of my schools. Sometimes my teachers would let me do some experiment with them and it was so cool!" As if with the flip of a switch, Angie was now back to her cheerful self. It was most definitely not normal to jump moods this quickly. This preoccupied Martha a little bit.

"You mentioned you wrote about serial killers in middle school. How did that interest spike in you? You must have been, what, maybe twelve? Thirteen?"

"It's just a field I've always wanted to understand. It's human nature – we are all curious about the things around us."

Martha did not speak, but she caught on the slip. _Around us?_ What middle school kid had serial killers around them?

"If you had to choose between green and red, which one would you choose?"

"Red. Definitely. I love red. I look great in red." Angie chuckled. She would never fail to make a reference to clothing or make-up. She was girlier than she'd like to admit, but without being narcissistic.

Martha pursed her lips. Red was a beautiful color. But it was also the color connected to blood, violence, the color of everything prohibited. And Angie did not hesitate about her choice.

"Why do you want to be an FBI Agent?" Martha asked the question that had been on her mind since she saw Angie. She did not have any prejudice towards anyone, but Angie did not seem like the typical Trainee.

"Because I want to make sure less families would suffer loss."

It was the wording of that statement that would stay with Martha for the next few days. Anyone would have simply said they'd want to help fight crime. Angie had specifically mentioned _families_.

"Alright, it was nice to talk to you, but I'm afraid our time is up." Martha informed her after checking the time.

"So soon?" Angie was almost upset about it. Where did time fly?

"I know that you're not a fan of therapy, but it would be a pleasure for me if you came back."

"Mhh, it's not as bad as I thought."

Martha laughed.

"Thank you for being so nice and understanding, Dr. Allen. It was really easy to talk to you. I hope you have a beautiful day." Angie said politely, once again pointing at a good education and a certain level of respect that most people her age were lacking of.

"Thank you for giving me the chance to get to know you, young girl. Have a good day yourself." Martha stood up and walked Angie to the door.

Walking out of the office, Angie did two things. First, she sighed with relief, because therapy was not something she thought she'd enjoy. And second, she walked over to the counter and asked for the first available hour that Martha had on her schedule.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan"** Emily is beyond confused, but also: disappointed in herself. We'll see if she'll want to try someone new or she'll do her best to sneak back into Martha's office, since this woman knows a LOT about Emily's dirty little secrets, from many years ago. I can promise you, if Emily goes back to Martha, it won't be the NORMAL way lol. Emily is known for pulling weird stunts *wink*. Also, this pressing issue (the questions) is what I meant earlier, when I said Emily has a lot to handle before she'd jump into dating. Guess I did good to my promise to fix things? :P Oh, oopsie, there might be one more thing hehehe, just because I'm a tease!

**"sweetkid45"** The case specifics may resurface, you will learn why they lost their victim after saving her and why Emily blames herself. For now, Emily is only just starting to open up and still in denial, so she's terrified of saying it out loud. JJ has been very focused on work and trying to keep an eye on Emily, after THAT case, so she might have missed out Henry's signs of trouble. This story arc isn't huge, it will be mentioned briefly and dealt with. Main focus is on the bond between Emily and JJ (I'm a sucker for two strong females who back each other up, instead of backSTAB each other! Also Emily-Clara friendship!) And hehe buckle up because this crazy Mexican bean ride is pretty much a constant lol! That's the thing with fragmented narrative...it makes me think of all the different scenes we see in one episode, if a story was an episode of a show! Thankfully FanFiction has the DIVIDER option, that line that divides different scenes! I always put it to indicate a change. Do you see it? I know it's barely visible on a white-screen-black-letters, but I read on black-screen-white-letters and it is super visible like this. Just a little tip, in case it gets blurred out while reading quickly. I fail to see it on white screen when I read, too! :) Hope it helps, even the tiniest bit :)!


	88. I Got Kicked Out Of Therapy

** CHAPTER 88**

_**I GOT KICKED OUT OF THERAPY**_

"How was therapy" Bryan asked when Angie came back for the afternoon classes.

"Weird..." She sat down and seemed a bit more quiet than usual. A bit more grown up. "But good. It was good" She added.

"If it helps, I've been to therapy for years now. You know, with SWAT and everything..." He said, trying to comfort her. That morning she had seemed quite upset over the fact that she was being forced to go talk to someone.

"I'm fine. Therapy is part of what I'm signing up for. I know I'd have to talk to strangers about my feelings once I start doing actual work in here. This was just a teaser, a trial of what is to come. And I'm okay with that." She seemed genuine. She also knew that Bryan had issues and they surely were another reason for him to have sought therapy. But she was smart enough not to confront him about that. Not just yet.

"Wow, this really is starting to feel competitive now..." He changed the topic, looking around and noticing how few Trainees were left. It was good to still be there, but a bit nerve-wracking to start week five with about one third of the people, compared to week one.

"Like I once said - we are going to crush this and we are going to graduate and get the jobs we want and we are going to have a home!" The last words just rolled out from Angie's mouth, having to do with her very recent talk to her new therapist.

Bryan also knew Angie had issues and he never allowed himself to ask her anything about her personal life. They had this relationship where they would be super close, yet they remained complete strangers. And it worked. So, why break something that works?

* * *

"Hello Emily. How was your morning?" Rossi greeted her with a smile as she walked in.

"I got kicked out of therapy...so there's that." She admitted, feeling like a naughty teenager to say something like that.

"Oh, you went?" It wasn't a question, despite his raised intonation towards the end. It was an affirmation, one that gave him so much satisfaction.

"I tried. It didn't work out. I went to Martha Allen, like you suggested. God, I love that woman. She is so incredibly smart and she's done wonders for me, in the past. But it just wasn't working this time."

"Weird. She's usually able to get under anyone's skin and find the route of their troubles. Then again, you Emily Prentiss are not just anyone." He laughed lightly, placing a hand on her shoulder and guiding her to the reunion room.

* * *

"How's it going back at Quantico?" Savannah asked casually while taking the empty plates and glasses off the table.

"Good." Morgan was a man of few words.

"Then why do you look sad, daddy?" A tiny version of Derek ran towards him, giving him a hug.

"I...uh..." He stuttered, which was not something he usually did. He was a strong man. He was a profiler, for God's sake! He always knew the right thing to say.

"Baby, why don't you go play with your new toy truck?" Savannah smiled, knowing that the only way to unglue the kid from his father was to mention the truck.

It worked like magic. He was out of there in two seconds and Morgan had to pout a little, wondering why a truck was more important. But then again, kids!

"Derek, you are losing yourself again." Savannah started a conversation that was long overdue.

They had been back for about two weeks now and each time Morgan came back from the Academy, he seemed upset.

"No I'm no-..." His lies were stopped by her lips. Kissing him was one of the few things that could calm him down.

"I've seen you lost, after that case that changed our lives. Derek, you dropped your life and your job, to move to the other side of the world. And you were still lost. I know you weren't happy. And I know you wanted to be back, but now that you are - you seem even more upset. I can't figure it out."

A long moment of silence was followed by a small confession.

"I'm not really back..."

All she could do was sit by his side and hold him tight. She knew he missed being out on the field. He missed his team. They were the reason he came back. Especially Emily. And yet, he hadn't even told them he was back. So, was he really back?

Savannah never told him how upset it made her to be living in a rental house. Like she knew that Derek was having second thoughts about coming back. Like she knew that at any moment he could call the shots and fly them off to some place new and then they'd start this pretense new life all over again, just to find themselves back at Quantico once more. Because, no matter how hard Morgan tried, Quantico was always going to be endgame for him. When was he going to be happy? Where was he going to be happy?

"I'm sorry for being so impossible to deal with. You, woman, are amazing. You put up with me and I love you for that. I need you to know that I have never taken you for granted." He leaned into her, like Emily had leaned into him just days ago. Willingly. Lovingly. Needily.

"I want you to be happy." She whispered against his shoulder and felt like he shook his head, as if he was telling her he doubted he could ever be happy again, when it came to his job.

* * *

"Where did _that_ come from?" Emily asked in shock.

"We just wanted to have another get together." JJ shrugged innocently.

The team had finished their paperwork regarding the case they had just closed and they had then taken the time to chat a bit, still in the reunion room.

JJ had hit Emily with the news that the team had unanimously decided to have a get together at _her_ house.

"At _my_ house?" Emily was suspicious. The team would usually gather at Rossi's.

"Yeah, you have a...great view...of the..." JJ stuttered.

"It's because of your mad cooking skills. JJ is just in denial about it." Reid said, all cute, knowing that his little joke would take the heat off of JJ. He was willing to help her out, even after the way she treated him earlier that day.

"Oh, you guys are having pizza and you're all going to pretend to be fine with that!" Emily stated. There was no way she would cook for an army of seven.

"Fine, we can all go to your place after work then." JJ shivered. Emily noticed that.

"Tonight? I haven't even made my bed..." She felt weird to be confessing that. Her kitchen was also a mess and she had thrown two pairs of pants on her living room sofa. Her house was an accurate representation of her life at that moment - a mess.

"Emily, none of us is interested in your bed." Tara pointed out.

"Speak for yourself! If Morgan was here, you'd be singing a whole different song." Garcia pointed out, as usual, in a very 'out there' manner.

"What? I cannot be the only one to have had _those_ thoughts..." Garcia continued when she saw everyone giving her disapproving looks.

Back in the days, especially when Emily started at the BAU, everyone had their doubts about her relationship with Morgan. They had gotten so close so fast, it just seemed suspicious.

"Fine, I'll see you tonight then." Emily muttered.

"Where are you going?" Reid's curiosity was raising as he saw her grab her jacket and bag.

"I have to go beg someone to do something for me. And then I have to go tidy up at home." With that excuse, Emily left.

* * *

"Congratulations!" Victor said cheerfully, approaching Richard with a glass of champagne in his hand.

"I wouldn't have done it without you." Richard replied modestly.

"Without _all_ of you, guys. Thank you for everything. You go out there, day after day, and you keep giving your absolute best. I couldn't have asked for a better team, for a better job. Thank you, really…" Richard turned his reply to Victor into a spontaneous little speech, for everyone to hear.

His home was invaded by a few dozen people from work. Richard loved hosting, it made him feel a little less alone in that apartment. There wasn't this much echo anymore, when people were around. There wasn't this silence that was killing him. Instead, there was laughter, occasionally someone would go smoke a cigarette on the terrace and someone from the youngsters would mess with the playlist, but it was okay – Richard loved their company.

Sometimes, just like that night, he'd gather people in his house, to celebrate a case closed, a job well done.

"We're lucky both guys decided to talk and to testify in court. Well plaid, Boss. Plus, you managed to get that poor elder woman out of there, alive and unharmed. That's a double win…and a double shot of tequila for me, yay!" Sasha congratulated him in her own feisty way.

"Consuelo? Yeah, she's such a sweet woman. I can't believe those idiots would kidnap someone, to have them cook for them. Amateurs!" Richard commented, thinking of the case.

Everything had gotten resolved and this get-together celebrated the end of this chapter. The two kidnappers had been kept at a secret location, by Richard's organization, and they had been…well, _forced_ to cooperate, if they wanted to keep all five fingers per hand. At the end, their bosses and all the others from their gang had been apprehended and given long enough sentences. Some had fallen victims to police fire, but it had hardly been a loss too big. Those criminals had been running the streets, doing illegal swaps of questionable drugs with other gangs, and basically making sure that the entire city was not safe. Well, that was no longer the case. With them in jail now, the other gangs had calmed down and backed off a little bit, afraid they might get caught as well. Things were slowly going back to normal, back on the streets.

While Richard's colleagues enjoyed some fine champagne, wine or shots, combined with the top catering that Richard had provided, he observed silently, smiling to himself. So many things were going through his mind.

He saw Sasha with her husband by her side. Sasha was enjoying the shots while he stuck to just a glass of wine, making sure he'd be in good shape, to drive her back home later. That was how Richard knew she was in good hands. He admired their marriage, they were young, but so in love. He saw the way this guy looked at Sasha and it reminded him of the days _he_ was their age – young and crazy in love with the woman he would later on marry.

Finally peeling his eyes off of Sasha and her husband, he noticed another one of his colleagues – the guy who had helped Richard out of his bounds, when Consuelo and him had gotten rescued. A beautiful woman was now giggling, standing right next to him and stealing an occasional kiss. Richard was close enough to them to overhear this woman's accent. They spoke in English and she had an eastern European accent. It wasn't rare, in his line of work, to see mixed couples. They often worked with foreigners, spoke in different languages, went to events abroad. Richard himself had fallen for a foreigner…

Lauren…

He gulped, realizing that even at a party, surrounded by so many people, he still wanted her. _Only_ her.

Without raising suspicion, Richard walked to his office room, at home. It was a big space, with shelves, holding some of the books he had read. On the walls, there were a bunch of achievement plaques, University diplomas, appraisals from the Mayor of Paris and the list went on. He was proud of everything he had achieved and, looking around, he realized it was quite a lot, actually.

Yet, something was missing…

He unblocked his phone and searched for a photo, which he then glued his eyes to, for what seemed like an eternity.

A beach, in the background; a moon in the sky; him, taking the photo with one hand, while the other hand held what felt like the most precious thing to his heart – _her_. And then, her lips, pressing against his cheek ever so softly; her eyes squinted, as if she was giggling, just like the youngsters he had just left to entertain themselves in his living room. Her hair, a bit messy from the breeze, but it was perfect. To him, _she_ was perfect. This photo was perfect. Their memories were perfect.

The fact that she was not making contact at all – a little less perfect…

He swirled what was left of his champagne, in the flute, eyeing the bubbles it made. He needed a distraction, he needed to take his eyes off of her, because the more he looked at her, the more it was becoming clear that he would never see her again. And Richard loved living in his world of denial. Years ago he had taught the mastery of denial to someone young and now he needed to remind himself all the tricks and hacks of suppressing painful thoughts to the point where he could not only fool everyone else that he was fine, but he could fool his biggest critic as well - himself.

There were people talking loudly now, in the living room, the music had been turned up a bit and there was a faint smell of cigarette smoke all around the house as the terrace doors were left open and the smoke inevitably went inside as well. But through it all, he could only hear silence…the silence that had been driving him mad lately. He could only see emptiness, like there was nobody else in this home, apart from him. Yes, there were people, physically in the house at that moment, but there was nobody _home_. It didn't feel like a home.

"I knew I could find you here." Victor said, startling him as he walked in his office room. "Thinking about Lauren?"

"Oui." Richard replied shortly, merely stating the obvious.

Victor walked over to Richard's work desk, picking up a framed photo and examining it.

"I'm a damn good photographer!" Victor laughed, to brighten up the situation.

"She's a damn good model." Richard said with a smile, catching a glimpse of the photo.

It was of him, years ago, with Bella, at the age of eleven. They were all dressed up for some formal event at the US Embassy, one that Bella had _begged_ him to take her to, and Victor had snapped this photo. Both were smiling, with Bella standing tall, acting all grown up and serious, even with a smile. Her hair had been curled in the ends, she had a headband with rhinestones on and she had begged Richard to allow her to wear the tiniest bit of make-up, too. Combined with her designer dress and small heels, she looked fifteen. Bella had always been stunningly beautiful and he remembered every curve on her face- her lips, her tiny dimples, the shape of her nose and those eyes of hers that used to look at him with approval.

"You know, in a perfect world, the three of you would be the picture perfect family." Victor said with a sigh, thinking of Richard and Lauren, with Bella running around. And then he remembered that Bella was not eleven anymore. She was a grown up and it was now her time to make a life for herself, with someone else.

Richard did not reply. He didn't _have_ to. He already knew exactly how he felt about Lauren and exactly how much he wanted Bella back in his life. In a perfect world they really would be the family he's always wanted.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan"** Yup, Dr. Allen has been with the Bureau for years, she's older than Emily which makes Emily trust and respect her even more. If anyone can get through to Emily, it might be _her...but_ we'll see how this works out. At this point Dr. Allen thinks Emily is wasting her own time, as she clearly does not want to come out and say what is troubling her, so it is doubtful she would ever allow "Emily Prentiss" to get assigned to another therapy session with her. Guess Em will have to get creative :P Yes, Angie considers herself "abandoned" by someone, twice, and it's a huge part of this new story arc that just started. Angie's flashbacks did not show the abandonment moment, but they did show the person responsible for her pain. Oh yeah, it will be revealed, but it's too big of a puzzle piece, so it will take some time. Also, hmm, you may be on to something there, Sherlock...I can confirm that yes, the person in Emily's past is "Jess", the name that Clara let slip out in a heated moment. But how does Clara fit in and why do the three of them know (of) each other? *wink*

**"sweetkid45"** Ehehe, the Mexico talk reminds me of those times when Reid was in a Mexican jail! He surely would have been fed Mexican beans, too :)


	89. Emily, We're Losing Her

** CHAPTER 89**

_**EMILY, WE'RE LOSING HER**_

"Emily, I cannot do that-..."

"It's not a good enough excuse!" She cut him off. She was not having any of it. She was done with negative answers.

She had taken the rest of the afternoon off, so she could go beg someone, for something, before going to get a few things and preparing to host a dinner that JJ had so graciously invited everyone to, at Emily's house, to be precise…and without Emily's knowledge, too.

"It is way beyond my paygrade."

"Ben, keep in mind _who_ you work for! Can't you ask him a favor?" Emily tried to use another tactic.

"Yeah, puppy eyes don't work on me, Prentiss." He laughed. She had been so obvious. "And yes, I can ask him a favor. I _do_ ask him for favors sometimes. Most of those times the favors have to do with terrorism and cybercrime. You know, stuff of _that_ importance."

"Oh, so just because it is my _personal_ request, that makes it less important?" She took offense.

"Look, I get that for whatever reason this is important to you, but this is not the Bureau's top priority - you do realize that, right?"

"Yeah..." Emily had to admit it. Her request was nothing short of a dumb one. Yet, she had to try.

"I have to say, I'm a bit confused as to how you managed to change your mind so quickly after sending it in?"

Emily rolled her eyes. The team had really let her down this time. Ever since they had forged her signature and sent those budget cut proposals in, she was holding a grudge. She would look at them and treat them as if nothing had happened, but she was upset. She was let down. She hadn't expected her team to act that way.

"I sent the wrong proposal, by mistake." She looked at him, hoping she'd be able to convince him this was the truth.

"Well, Emily, you're a grown up. You should have checked twice before hitting that Send button. I'm sorry, but you have to accept the consequences. Nothing can be done now." Ben was firm about it and he needed her to understand that she had to stop trying to find a way to undo what she, presumably, had done.

"Well, Ben, being a grown up sucks." She said, a bit childishly.

Somehow, he saw through her act. She was rebellious and he'd always known that, but this time, it was something else. She wasn't being reckless. She wasn't bribing him. She wasn't rude and she did not lie, at least not to his knowledge. On the contrary – she appeared honest and vulnerable and something about her eyes made him sigh. There was sadness, like she knew she had to accept the consequences, but it was something that upset her greatly.

"Anyway. Thank you for your time and for the coffee. I appreciate you always being real with me, Boss." She smiled, getting up from the bench where they had spent their coffee break sitting on and talking.

"I'm really sorry, Emily…"

"Yeah. Me too." This time she did not look him in the eyes.

She walked off, not wanting to let him see her upset. And that broke his heart a little bit.

Through all the years of this weird friendship, Emily had never asked for anything. Not once. Each time she or her team had been in trouble, she had put her big girl pants on and she had dealt with it on her own. There had been some pretty serious issues going on, with Reid being in jail and other members of her team being on probation. Her whole team was just under a major investigation and yet, she had never dared utter a word, to request a favor from him.

So, why would she ask for something so small and seemingly insignificant now? Why would _that_ be making her so upset?

Why was it so hard for Ben to be okay with himself, after shutting her request down?

* * *

After a very unsatisfactory talk with Ben, Emily ultimately found herself at the one and only place that gave her some peace – the Mall. She had a couple of hours to waste and she decided to go around a few shops and treat herself to something new, before going to the lower level, where the supermarket was situated. She was going to order pizza for everyone that evening, but she wanted to make sure she had the good wine and maybe a few appetizers to offer as well.

The first shop Emily hit was for clothes, but she didn't find anything she liked. Then she walked in Heaven, which for her was _any_ shoe shop. Sadly, nothing really spoke to her, so she walked out empty-handed as well. Maybe it just wasn't a good day for shopping.

At some point she decided to drop her desire to waste money and to go get herself a sweet treat instead. There was a pastry bar that she loved going to, but it was French-themed and it would surely remind her of _him_.

Her feet kept a steady rhythm on their way there as she tried to block the memories of the man who had dumped her. The more she thought about him, the more she hated him and the more she hated him, the more she realized it wasn't hate at all. She could not come up with a good word for how she felt about him, but 'hate' was not cutting it.

Suddenly, it felt like he was right there, next to her. Something reminded her of him, it tickled her senses and she felt like she was starting to sweat. She stopped walking and she looked around – people were walking by, but none of them looked like Richard. She heard men talking, but their voices sounded nothing like Richard's. Then what was it? Why this vivid memory of him?

"Would you like to check out our newest fragrance?" A young girl, standing at the entrance of a perfume and cosmetics shop, invited Emily over.

Without much thinking, she took a few steps towards the girl and there it was – the reason why it felt like Richard was right there.

The girl sprayed on a piece of paper, waving it around a couple of times, to let the scent set, before handing it to Emily.

"It's the new male fragrance – Sauvage, by Dior. It's exclusive to our chain of shops, it hits the world market next week. Maybe you'd like to make a special gift, for that special someone in your life?" The promoter spoke softly, but all Emily could hear was Richard's voice instead.

In her mind, she could swear he was right there, in front of her. That scent, it was _his_ perfume. He had been using it all week long and there was no doubt in Emily's mind that this was the same fragrance. She remembered being hypnotized by the scent, when she was on top of him, with no clothes between them. It had been just her and just him, wearing just their perfumes of choice. She could never be wrong – _this_ was exactly what he smelled like.

And, weirdly, her olfactory senses were pretty satisfied now, standing at the entrance of a shop, with some stranger talking to her, but all she could see and all she could feel was _his_ presence. It was strangely soothing to her. Suddenly, she found herself smiling, bringing the piece of paper closer to her nose and inhaling deeply, closing her eyes and allowing herself a long moment in which she remembered his touch, his smile, his lips. It felt good. She knew she was out of her mind and that it was most definitely not normal to have such a strong reaction to just some perfume, but she could not help it. It felt so damn good.

"Wait, how is this perfume not out yet?" She suddenly remembered what the girl had said.

"It's brand new. This is an exclusive pre-launch, but it won't be sold for the next seven days, anywhere in the world, except in our chain." The promoter told her, strategically pointing at the entrance of the shop.

"But I know someone who had this perfume, like a few weeks ago." Emily countered.

"I'm afraid that's impossible. It had only been sent out to celebrities, magazine editors and politicians, as a complementary pre-launch PR package. So, maybe this person falls in one of those categories…" The promoter explained.

"I shall only hope it's the _celebrity_ category…." Emily bit her bottom lip.

A magazine editor would be the last thing she could picture him as, but if Richard turned out to be a politician it would be an actual deal breaker for her.

Deal breaker? Where had her mind taken her? Why was she even thinking about him? About _them_? As far as she was concerned, there was no 'them'. She hated him. She despised him. She was mad at him.

And then again – 'hate' was not what she felt for him and the thought of that was driving her absolutely insane.

"So, what if I wanted to buy one of those?" Emily said, against her better judgment.

What the Hell was she going to do with a male fragrance? She was surely not going to gift it to any one of her colleagues, so that she'd be forced to re-live the memories of Richard on a daily basis, when they started using it. That would be just weird. Plus, all the guys on her team had their own favorite perfumes to use and Emily knew that they never changed or experimented. Guys…

"Like I said, it is exclusive to our chain and you can get it right now, if you want to." The smiling promoter said.

Emily wasted no time in grabbing a bottle and she didn't even mind having to wait in line, to pay for it. Strangely, she was not tempted to buy anything for herself. Each time she had been in this shop, she had been forced to command herself to go easy on the make-up and perfumes. But not this time. There was only one thing she wanted and she was holding on to the package for dear life.

She felt a bit awkward, handing it to the cashier to be scanned, realizing her hands had been all sweaty, thus the package was now sweaty as well.

It was quite pricy, but she did not give a damn. She later found herself strutting contently down the hallways of the Mall, holding a bag of sweet memories. Memories of _him_. Money well spent, as far as she was concerned. What would she do with that product, she had no idea. It was an impulse decision, a desire so strong that she could not deny it to herself. But she knew she wanted it and she knew she had to have it. And she also knew that she could not deny herself the pleasure of being reminded of _him_, in such a vivid way.

What she still had no idea about was the fact that a perfume would not hold off her hunger for him, not for long anyway. It would turn out not to be enough. She'd want more. She'd _need_ more. She'd soon be faced with the challenge of having to deny herself what she really wanted – _him_. Would she be able to? Or would she cave in? Emily Prentiss was an incredibly stubborn woman, she could keep up appearances and live in denial for years, but there was one thing she could never deny herself and that was her insatiable need for all the things Richard gave her…all the things he _did_ to her.

The next thing on her agenda was the supermarket and she quickly browsed through the isles that interested her, going out with two bags full of everyone's favorite appetizers and bottles of her favorite wine. She stuffed everything in the trunk of her car, but the small bag with the perfume was placed carefully on the passenger's seat. Was she losing her mind? Was this her weird, twisted way of placing Richard there, by her side? Why was she unable to shake him off? Why was he there, each time she closed her eyes? Why was it so hard to fall asleep at night, without having a dream about _him_? Why was time unable to give her peace and why did she feel a stronger urge to see him again, to kiss him again? What was wrong with her? Was she not going through enough emotional torture, with the aftermath of that one damned case they had recently worked on? Was it not hard enough for her to have certain other memories from her past, haunting her? Why was it impossible to forget him, on top of all that? Why him? Why, after all those years, why did she feel this insane need to be with someone? Not just someone, but _him_!

Walking back home, she stuffed the perfume in the safety box, knowing that if she didn't put it away instantly she would be tempted to spray it all around her house and that would make for a very uncomfortable conversation with her dinner guests, in just a couple of hours. How could she explain her home smelling like she had just had some company, right before the guests arrived? That would surely be embarrassing. And yet again, she could not wait to bring a piece of Richard inside her home. She'd surely make a run to the safe box, the second her last guest would walk out of the house that evening.

She was losing her mind. Surely. Positively. She was going insane.

* * *

"Hey, come in." Emily greeted her first house guest that night.

"Where's JJ?" Reid asked, scanning the living room. Because, really, JJ was always the first person he asked about.

"She's not here yet."

"I find that weirdly suspicious. She is always the first one to arrive. I kind of hate that about her. She beats me to it, every time." He pouted a bit.

"Well, think about it this way – first guest gets to help me set up the table. Do you really want to be _that_ person?" Emily said challengingly. Everyone hated housework, especially if invited to someone else's house.

"Yes!" Reid said with a smile, his reply surprising her.

"I want plates and glasses duty, please. Don't tell him I told you that, but Rossi is going to be late because he's making runs to every shop, trying to find your favorite wine, the expensive one, to surprise you."

"Oh, I guess I should act surprised then." Emily laughed. She would have preferred not knowing about it, so that it would actually be a surprise. But, God bless Reid, she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Go set up and I'll be right back. I'm writing down the order."

"Like you don't remember exactly how each one of us likes our pizza." He challenged her.

"Oh, Reid, you know I do, but I'm getting sides from another restaurant and I want to make sure I have enough for everyone. Although I do have appetizers, so this might be a bit too much, but hey, who cares? Rossi is coming over with Krystal and I guess Matt and Luke are bringing the girls, too. I might end up needing more chairs, now that I think about it."

"And JJ's with Will…" Reid added.

Emily shot him a glance, but said nothing.

The doorbell rang and Emily went to open.

"Oh, speaking of the Devil." She welcomed Luke in, adding the automatic question after that. "Where's Lisa?"

Luke seemed extremely concentrated on unzipping his jacket, so he didn't give her much of a reply. Lisa was obviously not with him.

"Hold up!" Tara called out when Emily was about to close the door to her apartment. Matt and her were just getting out of the elevator at that moment.

Emily excused herself for a moment, placing the call to order everything she wanted. When she joined them back in the living room, she saw that everyone had already arrived.

"Where's JJ?" She had to ask, because it was not normal that JJ would be last one to arrive, without a warning.

"I tried calling her, but she didn't reply." Reid shrugged.

Rossi started talking about something and everyone's attention shifted to his story.

Half an hour later, JJ finally arrived.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." She said weakly, standing as far away from Emily as possible.

Emily moved closer, watching JJ take two steps back. Something was off.

"JJ!?" Emily gasped when she realized why JJ was keeping the distance. "Don't tell me you drove like this!"

"N-no…" JJ smiled forcefully. "I sat in your parking lot for a while…"

"And what, you drank a bottle of vodka on your own?" Emily raised an eyebrow. JJ reeked of alcohol.

"Gin. God, I hate gin." JJ could feel her tongue burning. She disliked the taste, so much.

"Oh, ChayChay." Emily put her hand around JJ's shoulder, guiding her in and straight to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry…" JJ said, looking at the tiles, unable to look Emily in the eyes.

"What is going on with you?"

"I just needed something to make me forget the latest case." She shrugged, but Emily was not buying it. JJ had suffered way worse and she was a trooper. Being kidnapped for an hour was not going to make her drink her feelings away.

"Aha, the case. Sure." Emily cleared her throat in a very intimidating way. JJ knew she was busted, from the moment Emily laid eyes on her. "And Will's not here, because of the case, too?"

JJ closed her eyes and sighed.

Emily shook her head. When will JJ learn to lie? She was great at lying, just not to Emily.

"Here, wash your face. Put some make-up on. Come on, it's going to be okay…"

That hand, rubbing JJ's back as she leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on her face – it was so warm and comforting.

"I'm driving you home tonight." Emily stated once JJ was done applying make-up.

She looked much more fresh now, with some blush on her cheeks and a hint of color on her lips, too.

She also did not tell Emily she had no desire to go home that night. The kids would be sound asleep by then and she'd only just have to face Will, if he even decided to go back to sleeping in their bedroom anyway.

They walked out of the bathroom, joining an ongoing conversation about Matt's time in the IRS, traveling around the world, solving crime. He sounded so genuine and happy, when talking about his old team – their Unit Chief Jack Garrett, their own Garcia named Monty, their version of Emily – Clara Seger and the Garcia partner to Matt's inner Derek – Mae Jarvis. He told stories from the Academy, where he and Mae had met and where their friendship had started.

"Wait, so you interned for the IRS and then got a placement with them?" Tara knew a lot about her two close friends – Matt and Luke, but this was new information.

"Yes, the IRS was just short out of a team member, so they offered me the internship and then Mae joined as an intern two weeks later. They needed more people on the team and her field of study was extremely valuable for them. So yeah, I got to work with my best friend and it was awesome." Matt replied with a huge smile. Mae was like a sister to him and he missed her so much. With the IRS always traveling, he never got to spend time with her anymore, as she barely ever showed up at Quantico for more than a few days at a time.

"Did you guys know that Emily knows Clara Seger?" Reid added to the story.

"Oh?" Tara exclaimed.

"Yeah, we both interned for the UN, back in the days. We lost touch for a while, but then rekindled our friendship once we both ended up in the FBI." Emily explained shortly. A little too quickly. Maybe there were things she was withholding.

"It's weird how we all have lives, outside of work. And yet, everything in those lives has to deal with _us_ again and then when something new comes up, like if someone meets a new person, a friend or a boyfriend, we're all like: _No waaayyy!_" Luke commented while watching Rossi open the first bottle of wine.

"Yeah, it's like, in a way, we are a family." Rossi smiled, finally managing to open the damn thing. Everyone was impatient to taste it.

"We _are_ a family!" Emily stated. There was no doubt in her mind that the BAU was her family. It was her home and those people were her family.

"I love my family…" JJ slurred a bit. Her statement was not in regards to the family that everyone was now discussing. In her drunken state she was thinking about her own little family, of how broken it felt at that moment.

Soon, their first order arrived. It was the sides and Emily had calculated them for about fifty people. They could only eat the sides and call it a huge dinner. Then, pizza arrived, ten minutes later. She didn't even have to open the appetizers, so she decided to just bring them to the office the next day, so everyone can nibble on their favorite snacks at work instead.

"JJ?" Reid tried to get her attention, but JJ's eyes were wandering around. Seemingly, she was present. But her mind was elsewhere.

"Give her some space tonight, man." Luke suggested, intentionally making himself the receiver of whatever theory Reid was about to start ranting about.

When they were done with the food, the usual little groups started to form.

Tara and Matt were on the couch and Luke was still listening to Reid's rants, joined by Garcia at that point, while Rossi helped Emily take the dishes back to the kitchen and load the dishwasher.

"Don't." Emily said, with her back to him. Even when she wasn't looking at him, she knew exactly how to read him.

"She's never reckless with her drinking." Rossi pointed out.

Emily could not help but feel guilty, because that's exactly what she was. She knew that JJ's been through Hell recently, and it was all because of her.

"Which is why we need to tread lightly, now that she _is_ being reckless." Emily did have a point.

"Emily, we're losing her..."

"We're never going to let that happen!"

He sighed. As much as he wanted to believe those words, he just was not convinced. He had seen too many Agents lose themselves and he knew what the job could do to someone. He was now watching JJ get sucked into the hole where a lot of his friends through the years had ended up falling in.

Meanwhile, Matt found a moment to drag Luke outside, so they could talk.

"So, things still strained?" Matt asked vaguely.

"I don't know. Haven't seen Lisa all week." Luke took a sip of his wine, appearing calm and collected.

"She moved out?"

"No. I don't think so. Her stuff is still everywhere." Luke cleared his throat before his voice would let out that this was upsetting him.

"I'm sorry, man." Matt frowned, taking a sip as well.

He thought about his own life and realized how good he had it. A stable job. Amazing friends. A family - healthy, happy, big family. There was nothing bothering him, so he vowed to do whatever he could, to help Luke out.

"Hey, why don't we have a night out, like old times. We can hit the bars, go dancing..."

"No offence, bro, but I don't think I'll find the right woman at a bar."

"Who said anything about women?" Matt smirked, but Luke's quizzical look made him change his facial expression quickly. "Okay fine. But would it be such a bad thing to go out and meet new people? Weren't you the one who always said: the more, the merrier? What was it - acquiring experience? Fun times?" He said with air quotes.

"Yeah, that's how I saw life years ago. Guess I'm not that person anymore. Plus, I'm not going to start meeting other women if I'm not officially done with this one." Luke remembered something he had promised Emily at the last gathering they had, at Rossi's house. Maybe back in the days he wouldn't have worried about dating two or more girls simultaneously, but somehow that idea did not appeal to him anymore.

"Are you? Done with her, I mean." Matt asked.

"Been done with her for a while." Luke tried to grab his wine glass again, but Matt stopped him.

"Nah, bro. Don't ruin yourself for someone who doesn't deserve you. Put the glass down, stand up straight and keep your head up!" He almost commanded. "You're an amazing dude and you deserve someone equally as amazing, by your side."

"Thanks, man." Luke said weakly. He could go on and deny it, but this break up that hadn't even happened yet, officially, was affecting him in so many ways. Matt had spent enough time with him, to know that.

"Guys, I hate to do this, but I'm kicking you all out." Emily announced at some point, when everyone was in the living room.

"Yeah, we should go. We have the meeting tomorrow at nine and I still need to go over the papers again." Rossi commented, gathering his things.

"I'm taking JJ home. You guys go ahead. I need to hold someone hostage to help me clean up this mess." Emily laughed, masking up for the fact that her house was now clean, after Rossi helped her get rid of dishes, glasses and leftover food. She just needed an excuse to have JJ stay behind.

Everyone went to the parking lot together and drove off in different directions.

"What's that?" JJ asked, rhetorically, when Emily handed her something.

"A towel, JJ. People use it after they take a shower. It usually serves to dry someone's skin." Emily replied wittily.

"I don't need a shower." JJ was slurring a little less now.

All evening, Emily had only poured water in her glass, making sure she'd sober up quickly. It hadn't done wonders, but it had helped, maybe a little bit.

"For God's sake, JJ, don't make me come in there with you!" Emily pointed at the bathroom door, insistently.

"Can you stop? You're not my mother!" A sober JJ was polite, sweet, always thinking of Emily's feelings first.

A drunk JJ, however, was sloppy and could never hold her tongue.

Emily bit her bottom lip so hard that she could almost feel the taste of blood already. This was an incredibly bad low blow. Sober JJ would have never hit Emily with those words, reminding her of that pain. It was nearly impossible not to shout something equally as hurtful back to JJ.

Instead, her hand kept lingering in the air, until JJ realized it was her best option to go for a shower. At least she'd be locked inside the bathroom. Alone, which is what she needed at that moment.

Emily then tried to do something nice for JJ, not expecting the outcome her gesture would have. She took JJ's phone and dialed Will.

"JJ? Damn it, I've been calling you for an hour!" Will picked up the phone, soon about to realize it wasn't JJ on the line.

"Hello, Will. This is Emily."

"Yeah, of course she's with _you_!" Will snapped a bit and Emily was taken aback. She had a wonderful relationship with him. Why was he being so rude?

"For the record, I failed to let my team know the invitation for dinner was also extended to their family members. I would have loved to see you and the kids tonight. I'm sorry, JJ must have thought I was only inviting _her_." Emily lied, because this was what she did best. In reality, she had been very specific about people bringing a plus one.

Will groaned and it annoyed Emily. What was his problem?

"Look, I need someone to help me clean up. JJ and Garcia are staying. At this point, it would be too late for them to go home, so I suggested them staying over tonight. Is that cool with you?" At least she tried to ask permission. She tried to do the right thing. Will didn't need to know his wife was broken, drunk and not willing to go home, to him. A night off from her normal routine would only benefit JJ.

"Cool with me?" He snapped again. "Yes, Emily, it is cool with me that my own wife always puts _you_ first. It is cool that she thinks about six other people, before she thinks about her family. It is cool that she never replied my calls tonight. It's very cool." With those words, Will hung up, leaving Emily speechless.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan"** I'll be real with you, lol - I have plans for Morgan, but for now I don't need him in the scenes, so there might not be much of him right now, especially not with the BAU. :P But I miss him on the team, sooo I guess that should be some consolation and source of hope? :) | Richard does feel lonely, only after HER. He loved his life and loves Paris, his job, everything. We'll just see how it all unfolds. I love how you assumed "Bella" is in the US *winky winky face*. As for the Embassy party - you (and user zhangxinna) gave me an idea and I wrote a flashback that I hope makes all of ya'll cry your hearts out hehe. But it will spoil too much right now, so I will post it when the time is right, later on. Basically, the readers will know exactly what happened that night, at the Embassy, in Paris. :P

**"zhangxinna"** If the previous chapter pained you, I guess this current one was too much to handle? :P Poor Ems, she will be showering in that perfume from now on, lol! Don't worry, Richard is a VERY patient man, he's quietly waiting for her, in his little corner. You'd be surprised how patient he can be, when it comes to HER! Your comment about the framed photo from the Embassy (along with rmpcmfan's review) gave me an amazing idea! Read the reply I just wrote to that user, just above your reply here, for some more info about my idea. When the time to post it comes, I will credit you two for the idea and I really hope you like it (and cry like babies, because it's just...emotional, yaikes!) PS: JJ won't intervene...she will allow Emily to come to terms with her feelings, on her own, with no pressure. Because JJ is a sweetheart :)!

**"sweetkid45"** I was at the supermarket today and I saw a can of Mexican beans on the discount shelf. Totally unrelated to the story, but it made me laugh hehehe :)!


	90. Lauren Reynolds - Part Of Emily Prentiss

** CHAPTER 90**

_**LAUREN REYNOLDS - PART OF EMILY PRENTISS**_

"Luke?" Emily banged on the door, but there was no reply.

"Luke, it's Emily!" She shouted.

She had sent him a text, saying she was at the door, but he hadn't read it yet. Somehow she had decided it was a great idea to go wake him up the morning after her dinner party, and before an early morning meeting call at work.

She had noticed Luke was being a bit off lately. When she had caught a glimpse of him and Matt out on the terrace, Luke's eyes had not been as cheerful as usual. She did not see him smile. It didn't take a profiler to know there was something wrong.

"I got us coff-…Whoah, you are _not_ Luke!" She said in absolute shock when a half-naked guy opened the door.

"Oh, I must have the wrong house…" Emily looked around. She was definitely at the right house, it was just the wrong guy.

"Lisa!?" Emily gasped when an equally as naked Lisa came to the door, to see what this whole commotion was about.

"Luke doesn't live here anymore." The man said while Lisa busied herself, wrapping a robe around her body.

"Apparently…" Emily was good with unexpected situations, but this was just a tad bit too much.

She excused herself and walked over to her car, driving off to the first secluded place she saw on the way, where she parked and sat there, just watching the windshield in front of her, trying to figure out what she had just witnessed.

A week ago she had made a joke about Luke finally having a girlfriend he was really into and he had laughed. He had seemed genuine. But then, she thought back and counted the many times that the team had gone out to eat or drink and everyone would occasionally bring their significant other, but Luke never did, for over a month now. Each time an invitation had been extended to Lisa, she had magically been called in to work that night.

The logical thing to do, as an adult, was to delete the text before Luke would read it and then to pretend like it never happened. Emily did just that.

* * *

"I am a terrible person!" Emily barged in Martha Allen's office with those words.

She headed there right after her morning meeting with the team. JJ had a massive headache from the night before, Reid was worried about her, Garcia was not making weird noises, which was a clear indication that she was not fine, and to top it all – Emily was now watching Luke's every movement under a microscope. He had not made one inappropriate joke, he had not smiled once and he had not even finished his coffee for the whole hour they were in the meeting room.

"I'm sorry, I can't see you right now. This hour is booked for someone else…" Martha started off, but Emily continued that sentence.

"A certain Miss Roberts?" Emily suggested. "Julia?" She tried so hard not to lose it and start laughing. "Read that backwards…"

Martha laughed out loud. She had the habit of writing her patient's surname first, followed by the first name, which she would then disregard completely, so it had been easy for her not to notice the obvious.

"Only _you_ would pull one like that…" Martha said, still laughing.

"I'm amazed your assistant didn't call me out on that one. I mean, come on!" Emily laughed as well.

She had called that morning, begging to be squeezed in Martha's schedule. And since she had basically been kicked out last time, she had to use a fake name, just to be sure she'd get in. Julia Roberts just happened to be what came to mind when she was asked to identify herself.

"You know, I can't keep but comment on your choice of actress to mention. '_Pretty Woman'_, probably her most famous movie, was about a woman who, let's put it that way – was acting undercover, pretending to be someone she is not. I wonder how come you chose _that_ one, to compare yourself to." Martha smirked.

"Okay, easy there. I am _not_ a prostitute!" Emily laughed genuinely. She loved that movie. "But I do appreciate the analogy. You should go into profiling. Just don't aim for _my_ job, okay?"

"Oh, I wouldn't dare to. Plus, I'm better at dealing with people, alive." Martha laughed until she realized her words sounded a bit off. "Oh, that sounded wrong."

"No, it's okay. I understand what you meant." Emily invited herself to sit down, since Martha had not yet done so. She had, after all, booked the whole hour for herself. Well, for Julia.

"There is no getting rid of you, Agent Prentiss…" Martha murmured, pretending to be annoyed.

Emily knew she was only doing that, to trigger her to talk openly this time.

"Nope, there really isn't." She said calmly.

"When you came in, you said you were a horrible person. Why?"

"Because I feel like I've been so consumed with my own problems that I've ignored everyone else around me."

"Is it possible that this is just the way _you_ feel, and not what is actually happening?"

"Yes. But I highly doubt this is the case!" Emily had a mind of her own. She was opinionated. She believed in what she found suitable and usually there was no convincing her otherwise.

"Tell me more about it."

"It's been over a month now since, you know, _that_ case happened." Emily's gaze shifted towards the door. She hated talking about that case, but she was desperate to take the burden of it, off her chest.

"I've been so upset and I've blamed myself for so long, that I somehow closed myself off to everyone else. And that's fine, because it only means they couldn't see _me_, which was kind of the point. I know they've been talking and trying to come up with ways to cheer me up. But I haven't let anyone in. Every time, I smile and pretend like they are helping, but they are not. I feel like everything is making me feel worse and I just want it to stop. And the worst thing of all is that I closed my own eyes, when it comes to _them_ – my team, my friends. I can't _see_ them anymore. I never saw the signs of struggle in all of them. One is struggling with her marriage and it took me seeing her drunk to realize that. The other one has moved out of a home he leased for him and his girlfriend, a home that this same girl is now sharing with another man. He never said anything to me! Why didn't he say something? Is it because of me? Have they all been repressing what _they_ are going through, so that _I'd_ have it easier on me, with what _I'm_ going through? How is that fair?"

"Woah, woah, Emily. Slow down. Jesus, breathe!" Martha had to interrupt her.

"I don't know why it is so hard for me to just talk to them, to tell them how I feel about that case…" Emily then became awkwardly quiet.

"Maybe the case is not the problem." Martha suggested.

"It is! It has to be." Emily shrugged.

"You're telling me there is absolutely nothing else, going on in your life?"

Emily gulped. She could name a few thousand other things, a couple of those being pretty major.

"Emily, is it okay if we talk about your days as Lauren?" Martha was up to date with Emily's past. Not _all_ of it, of course, but she knew things about Lauren. And if she was now asking about her alter ego, there was a reason for it.

"Yeah, but Lauren Reynolds is dead. She never really existed anyway."

"Is she?" Martha raised an eyebrow.

Years ago, when Emily had seen her after she came back from her seven months of healing process in Paris, she had shared a lot about her time as Lauren.

"Yes." Emily confirmed.

"Well, I think Lauren Reynolds is a part of you, still. I think she lives, deep down inside of you, and each time you feel like you're failing yourself as Emily Prentiss, you run back to Lauren, hoping she'd make more sense, that she'd be better, somehow."

Touché. Those words hit Emily harder than she would like to admit. That was exactly what she had done during her week in Paris just recently.

"I think Lauren is your safety net and you're never going to fully let go of her." Martha then pushed it a bit further.

"This is ridiculous. Lauren Reynolds is a made up person who never existed." Emily shook her head.

"Is she?" Martha was really good at making Emily's blood boil.

"She is if I say so."

"Why?"

"Because I invented her, okay? I gave her life and I played her character and I-…" Emily stopped speaking for a second.

"I _was_ her…" She then added, speaking almost inaudibly. "And she _was_ me…"

It was Martha's turn to be quiet. She had given Emily enough anger and push, so she'd pour it all out.

"And I can't ever fully let go of Lauren, because…" Emily took a sharp breath. "Because she's not just someone who does not exist. She is me. A part of me. I guess she always will be…"

Coming to that realization did not freak Emily out and Martha found that to be weird. On the contrary – Emily was now smiling.

"I've built a life as Lauren. I had fun, despite, you know, everything else. I have memories as Lauren. I have-…" She finally exhaled and then remained quiet for a minute or so, while she mentally went over all the things she was grateful to Lauren for giving her.

"Now, would it be such a bad thing if you never fully let go of Lauren?" Martha finally asked.

The first time she had suggested that, just minutes ago, Emily had freaked out. This time around, her reaction was completely different. She just needed to figure a few things out, before she'd reply that question.

"But, I'm Emily now…"

"You've always been Emily. And you'll always be Emily to the people around you. You can change your name to whatever you want, but it won't change who you are, to them."

_Goddamn it, this woman is good!_ – Emily thought to herself.

"Emily…" Martha said very softly now. She knew how to control her voice and how to put her questions in words, so that she'd get a genuine reply from her patients.

"Who is Lauren Reynolds?" She asked.

"Lauren Reynolds is a part of Emily Prentiss…" Emily's eyes were glued to the vase in front of her. "She will always be."

Pink azaleas – those were Spring flowers. Emily wondered what they were doing there at the end of Summer, beginning of Fall. They looked so beautiful.

In the back of her mind, she was trying to lock down whatever conclusion she had just come to. It scared her. It was new to her. She had always seen Lauren Reynolds as a ghost. But was she? Or was she real? At that moment, she felt more real than ever.

"You shouldn't be scared of it." Martha smiled. "We all have a version of ourselves that is different than who we really are. _You_ should know that, you've been dealing with serial killers most of your life."

"Yeah, they sometimes look like normal people. One would never have been able to tell what their alter ego had done." Emily replied from experience.

"Well, be grateful that Lauren was not a serial killer then."

"Okay, don't make me admit things that might get me into trouble." Emily chuckled, but she actually meant those words.

Lauren had been reckless. She wouldn't have thought twice if she had to get rid of someone, if that meant she'd stay alive. Lauren had been a fighter. A strong woman. A woman who knew how to take care of herself. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing for Emily to have some Lauren always inside of her.

"I have one last question for you, Emily." Martha had to wrap it up.

She loved her job – time seemed to fly each time she sat with someone.

"What is the one thing that Lauren had, that Emily wants in her life?"

"It's something, at the absence of which there could be no life for Emily Prentiss." She replied vaguely.

It was an extremely touchy topic, one that Emily would not be letting Martha convince her into discussing. She'd go through the pain of her loss and she'd deny the truth for as long as possible. And if it wouldn't be possible anymore, then she'd deal with it on her own, not telling a single soul about the reason why she was feeling this way. Emily knew that soon enough things would change for her. Soon enough she'd have to face her past, her decisions. Soon enough she'd have to live with the consequences of decisions that Lauren Reynolds had once been forced to make. Soon enough, Emily's life as she knew it, would seize to exist.

* * *

"Hello." Richard said in small voice.

He was laying on the bed, in the darkness of his room, with only one small red light, flashing from time to time. The room felt smaller, now that he wasn't able to see anything. It was a bit too warm inside, so he got rid of his shirt and he felt like he was already sweating. It almost felt like he was suffocating. The room smelled faintly of his favorite eau de cologne, but it didn't smell like _her_. It didn't smell of the mysterious perfume that Lauren had used.

"Hello. What should I call you?" A female voice replied, in the darkness.

"Richard, my name is Richard." He contemplated for a second before he decided to reply honestly. He could have said any false name and it wouldn't have mattered, but he wanted her to call him Richard.

"Hello, Richard." She said cheerfully.

"What can I call you?" He asked curiously.

He was new to this. In his whole entire life – a life full of passionate, lusty moments with beautiful women, none of whom could ever compare to the one woman he really wanted; he had never done _this_…he had never been in a situation like this. He wasn't really sure how to start this process and he surely had no idea how it would end.

"You can call me anything you want." She replied, still sounding cheerful.

He couldn't see a thing in the room, but he imagined someone talking back to him, with a smile. He sure didn't feel like smiling, himself. This was weird. It felt wrong. But, as he had convinced himself – desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Lauren." He whispered, feeling like an idiot. "I want to call you Lauren."

"Alright then, my name from now on is Lauren."

He was quiet after her reply. This was _so_ wrong. Her voice was wrong, her intonation was wrong, everything about her was wrong, but the worst of all was that she was not really Lauren.

"So, Lauren…" He started off hesitantly. "What can you do?"

"I can do anything you want me to do. Just try it out. Tell me what you want me to do."

He sighed. It was one thing to know that this whole experience would go this way, but a completely different thing to be doing this, in his own room, in his own bed, half naked, with some voice, not even a shadow, but just a voice that sounded absolutely nothing like Lauren.

"Can you make a joke?" He asked lamely.

"Parallel lines have so much in common. It's a shame they'll never meet." She shot back instantly.

Richard rolled his eyes. What kind of a dumb joke was that?

And then he thought about it for a second. Sometimes he felt like Lauren and him were two parallel lines and other times he realized those lines, as equal and perfectly aligned as they might be on top of each other, were never going to cross, never going to become one. Maybe this joke was actually a bit accurate.

"Lauren, can you switch the lights on?" He asked.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Richard."

"Fine, then can you turn the AC up? It's too hot in here." He asked something else.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that."

"What _can_ you do!?" He hissed at her, a little annoyed.

"I can do anything you want me to do. Just try it out. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Fine then, can you change your voice for me? Try sounding a little less cheerful, a bit more serious, but not too much. A little mysterious, too, please! Oh and can you, please, not agree with everything I say? Challenge me, argue with me on some topic, anything other than politics." He was almost sure this request would be okay with her.

"How does _this_ sound?" Her voice changed and he cringed.

"No, this is wrong. She doesn't sound pissed, like this. She is ironic, mysterious, challenging." He said with a smile, remembering how Lauren, the real Lauren, had sounded.

"How does _this_ sound?" She asked him one more time, changing into something different, voice wise.

"Nope. Too stiff. She's flirty, she sounds innocent, but she says the most suggestive things…" He smiled once again. He was absolutely mesmerized by the real Lauren's voice and her way of speaking.

"What's the difference between your girlfriend and your job? After five years, your job will still suck." She tried a slightly more inappropriate joke, using a modified voice yet again, but it made Richard gasp.

"Oh, no, no, no! This is plain desperate. Lauren isn't like that. She's playful, but with respect to herself. She wouldn't just…" He sighed, coming to the conclusion that modifying this voice was not going to be a success.

"How about we forget about your voice and we do something else?" He suggested.

"I can do anything you want me to do. Just try it out. Tell me what you want me to do." The female voice said, repeating the same thing, with the same words, for second time.

"Ugh, give me a good reason why I shouldn't just throw you out the window right now?" He was starting to be annoyed with the stiffness of the voice, the repetitiveness, the lack of Lauren.

"If I had to give you one good reason, it would be because you paid good money for my company. It would be a waste if we parted like this." Her response was the first one that made sense since they started their conversation.

"I did pay quite the sum for you." He admitted in defeat. "Okay, what does your company consist of? There wasn't really a manual I could read, to get a feel of you."

"I can do anything you want me to do. I must admit, I would not be upset if you wanted to feel me, Richard."

He was surprised. Did she just twist his words and make them sound a lot more sexual than what he had originally meant? Maybe she could be trained to be a bit like Lauren, after all.

"Tell me a little about yourself, Lauren." He asked curiously.

"My name is Lauren and I am here to keep you company and to make you happy."

"Where are you from?" He had so many questions. Most of all, he just wanted to have a conversation and let himself pretend this was actually Lauren.

"That is irrelevant."

"What is your favorite color?"

"That cannot be determined."

"Do you speak French?"

"Yes. Would you like me to switch to French?"

"NO!" He raised his voice a bit. She wouldn't be Lauren if she didn't speak in English. "Do you know who I am?"

"No, I do not. Why don't you tell me about yourself, Richard?"

"I would rather not. It's enough that you know my real name and where I live. It's more than enough, actually. You know, maybe this was a mistake…maybe I'm just losing my mind."

"I also have access to your bank details." She reminded him.

"Damn, I knew I should have paid cash, upon your arrival!"

"Do not worry, Richard. Most men pay for my services with bank transfer. I am aware I am not exactly a cheap one to have. I am also very discrete with personal information about my owners."

Richard gulped, mentally enlisting all the geeky things he could have bought himself, instead of paying for her. He could have opted for a new drone! He really wanted to upgrade the one he had. He could have given this money to charity! Instead, he had to go and buy himself some 'company'. How dumb of him!

"If you had to have breakfast with me, which would you prefer: waffles or pancakes?" He asked, because there really wasn't much else he could do with her.

"I am afraid I do not consume either of those."

He pouted. Lauren would have chosen croissants, he was sure of it. She clearly loved France and there was nothing more French than a breakfast with a freshly baked butter croissant.

"Do you like it when it rains?" He continued.

Weirdly, he had so many questions. He would have preferred to ask them to the real Lauren, but this would do…it _had_ to do. He made sure it was the most expensive way to substitute the real Lauren.

"I am afraid I do not enjoy the rain."

Her reply made him wonder what the real Lauren would have said, instead. He was almost sure that she would have told him she loved the rain. He pictured her as someone who could see the beauty of a stormy evening, rain pouring, thunders in the sky, darkness, power shortage over the city…and nothing and nobody other than her, with him, in front of the fireplace, with a glass of wine in hand, maybe cuddled close so they could feel each other's warmth. Yes, Lauren would definitely be someone who'd appreciate the rain.

"So, do you prefer sunshine instead?"

"I am afraid I do not enjoy the sun."

"Fine. Is there anything at all that you like?" He didn't mean to come off rude, but it didn't really matter anyway. There was no way he could hurt her feelings, since she obviously had none.

"I like reading out loud. An estimate of 83% of the people who buy my services ask me to read to them."

"Good. We can work with that. I do enjoy a good book, or a mystery story. Oh, a story where things happen, but the reader doesn't know what is really going on, you know? Like a good detective mystery, a crime novel, a thriller…with some crazy background twists for the characters, intertwined storylines…maybe flashbacks! Oh yes, I love flashbacks! Maybe one of the main characters is having flashbacks and they show the readers information about this character, but without ruining the surprise. I like to be kept on my toes. Granted, I'm a bit impatient, but if the story is good, it would be worth the wait to finally know what the Hell was going on. Do you have a story like this?"

He sounded so enthusiastic about it. Detective mysteries were his guilty pleasure and occasionally he'd find himself reading a new one, getting immersed into the plot and trying to figure out what is happening. He loved it when the story started off slowly, introducing the characters as just innocent bystanders, but then things would happen and truths would be revealed and then at some point the entire thing gets blown into pieces and he'd realize what was really happening all along. He loved looking for clues and coming up with his own theories of who is who.

"Yes, I do. But I am afraid if you need me to read you a story, I am going to have to charge more." She replied calmly.

"Oh, of course. Well, then we should think of something else to do now." He tried to think of other activities, but came up with nothing.

"79% of my clientele says I am a very good listener. Richard, is there anything you would like to talk about? Anything you say stays between us." She suggested and it was possibly the first suggestion of hers that he liked.

"Actually, yes…there is." He sucked in a breath. Well, it couldn't harm him to talk. She did say she was discrete.

"There is this woman…Lauren…that's her name. Lauren…" He trailed off, just to figure out exactly how weird this felt.

"Tell me about Lauren, Richard." The voice in the darkness urged him. It sounded soft and calm, which eased him a bit and made it less awkward for him to pour his heart out.

Five minutes later, he had gone through the basics of how awesome that woman, named Lauren, was. He was also short out of breath and now most definitely sweating. He pushed his blanket aside, so his skin could breathe. His bare chest felt a rush of air and it felt good for a second, before he realized the air was warm, stuffy, he felt like he was burning in Hell. He also felt like, in some alternate universe, he was betraying Lauren by doing what he was doing.

"Lauren sounds like an incredible woman." The voice replied after giving him time to say whatever he needed to get off his chest.

"Yes, she really was." He replied.

"Is she dead?" She asked in a very insensitive way. He could not be mad at her, he knew she had no feelings at all. But it still bothered him.

"What? No! God, I hope not! I only said 'was' because I'll probably never see her again."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because…it's complicated, okay? I hurt her and I don't blame her for hating me. I just wish I knew if she was okay now, if maybe time has helped her forget about me, about what I did to her. Or if maybe she needs more time to forgive me, if she ever really would do so…"

"According to my sources there are four steps to forgiveness. There are also two major types of forgiveness. _Decisional forgiveness_ is a behavioral intention to act less negatively and more positively towards an offender. _Emotional forgiveness_ is a process in which positive other-oriented emotions replace unforgiving emotions."

"Jesus, you sounded just like Bella with that…all of what you just said!" He gasped. The resemblance was uncanny. Bella was known to come out with her occasional definitions on things that normal people had no idea about.

"Would you like to call me Bella?"

"Hell no! Eww. No, no, no! This is just wrong! No! It's weird enough I'm calling you Lauren."

"Would you like to call me another name?"

"No, Lauren is fine. That's why I bought your services." He placed his hand on his forehead, feeling how warm it was, other than sweaty.

"Would you like me to calculate the chances that Lauren might forgive you?"

"No, thank you. I already know they are beyond zero. I don't need a scientific confirmation. I don't have enough bottles of wine at my house, to drown all that sorrow in."

"You sound upset, Richard. Is there anything I can do to help you with that?"

"Yeah, sing me a happy song." He said sarcastically.

"That was a joke! It was a joke! Please stop!" He added, three seconds later, after she had already started singing a kids' song.

"Richard, I am afraid I am running out of energy. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Can you…" He trailed off, not having a request.

There wasn't anything he'd want to ask of anyone other than the real Lauren. He wanted _her_, he wanted to hold her and to experience a night of complete city blackout, a downpour, a cold breeze, a warm fuzzy blanket on top of them, and a glass of wine in their hands. He wanted to hear her real voice again, he wanted to say something dumb and to make her laugh one more time. He wanted to rest his hands on her hips, like he used to do, bringing her closer to him, holding her protectively. He wanted to feel the connection he had felt all week long. No other woman, no other voice, no other body could ever give him the satisfaction that only the real Lauren could.

"Lauren, do you know how human feelings work?" He was suddenly curious about that.

"I am afraid I do not, Richard. Would you like me to search for data on the topic?"

"That won't be necessary. Thank you." He said politely.

The real Lauren knew about feelings. She was a walking contradiction of so many feelings. Each time he had held her in his arms, he had felt all those feelings, brewing inside of her. He had felt her heart, beating against his chest. He had felt the warmth of her body, next to his. He had seen joy, pain, mystery, fear, hope, satisfaction in her eyes. He had felt a certain tingling in his stomach, each time she had kissed him. He had found himself laughing genuinely, each time she had said something funny or embarrassing. The real Lauren had not been afraid to sound like a dork, or to cry like a human. She had kept secrets, like a human. She had imperfections, like a human. She had made him feel things that only a human could understand.

"Battery low. Please charge." The female voice announced in the dark.

"It's fine. I don't need your services anymore. I'm going to bed." He announced, turning sideways and resting his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

With the corner of his eye he noticed the red light in the room was now blinking fast.

"Battery low. Please charge." The voice repeated.

"Just switch off and I'll deal with you in the morning, okay?"

"Battery low. Please charge."

"Are you telling me that you are able to hold a conversation, almost like a human being, but your artificial intelligence settings are not advanced enough to have you charge yourself without forcing me to physically get out of bed?" He was now annoyed.

It had been a long day at the office and a very awkward evening at home, unpacking his newly arrived toy, only to then realize this toy would be nothing like what the commercial had painted it to be. The perfect companion? The perfect listener? Could modify its voice and works in different languages? Yes, maybe, but it still was not Lauren. He could call this stupid tiny plastic box whatever he wished, but it would never give him what Lauren's human company could give him.

"Batter low…"

"Damn it!" He then muttered some profanity in French, getting up and plugging the damn thing in before hopping back in his bed.

"Plugged in. Charging." The voice announced.

"Great, at least one of us is satisfied! Now please shut up and let me sleep." He hissed.

"Goodnight, Richard." She replied.

"This is the creepiest thing I've ever experienced in my life." He muttered to himself, cursing the moment when he had decided it would be a great idea to purchase this item.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"GUEST"** Hello :) Thank you for the wonderful review, it made me smile! I love crime thrillers, so that was a HUGE compliment! Wow, you read EVERYTHING in ONE go? You're awesome and I applaud your commitment, as this is quite a long story! Now to address your theories: Hunter and Bella have A LOT in common, sometimes it feels like they might be the same person, but sometimes they could not be any more different. Jess and Bella are not mother-daughter, they are actually the same age. Jess does know Clara and they have a very special bond, but Emily does not know about Jess. And there was someone who "saved" Jess and Clara's butts (in the past) from torture, but they do not know his/her identity. Richard's job involves maximum secrecy, but has no religious aspect. Hope those teasers make you smile :)! Please let me know when you read this reply of mine, as then I go and delete these Author Notes from each chapter, so the future readers won't be confused about what I'm replying to or why I'm giving spoilers hehe! Thank you so much, stay safe and it would be very nice to hear from you again! PS: With how you spelled "Clare and Emilie" I think you might be French and if so, you just became even more awesome in my eyes and I want to be your friendddddd...please tell me you know a real life Richard, whom I can marry? :P Hehehe!

**"Ducksdragonfly" & "Natasha36" **Are you still with our little gang here? :) Hope you're both fine, sending you some happy vibes to cheer you up and I hope to hear from you soon.

**"rmpcmfan"** Yup, Ben and Emily go wayyy back, but with NO romantic connection! She saved his life once and he feels forever in debt to her, but she never dared to ask a favor, as he is her Superior now and she refuses to be treated differently and given special attention. So yes, this "favor" she is asking of him really means the world to her and she is desperate enough to ask for help. Well, he said "NO", but...do we really think _THE_ Emily Prentiss would stop at a NO? Come on. :P

JJ is about to have it rough and Will is about to screw up majorly. But since I'm not a Will fan, I'll only briefly tell the story from JJ's perspective, when the time comes for her to come clean. You will learn why Will was calling her so desperately while she was sitting in her car, in front of Emily's house, getting drunk before the dinner. You'll also learn WHY JJ invited everyone to Emily's home that evening. Blondie sure has an agenda :P! Also yeah Will should have handled it differently, but I needed someone to have some drama going on, so I sacrificed him as the 'bad guy' lol.

OMG I really enjoyed writing the perfume scene. For some reason, the senses play a big part in my story. Angie is sensitive to hearing voices, timbers, vibrato. She judges people by their voice and what it communicates to her. Tact is important, I play with that a lot, especially when people hug or "touch" each other (in a friendly way, like tap on the shoulder). Visually, the characters always notice the things surrounding them, they look at spaces with curiosity, checking out flower arrangements, things hanging on the walls, etc. And so it made perfect sense that olfactory senses would have such a huge impact on Emily. We all get a deja vu when we smell something familiar, right? :) Poor Ems is now going to shower in his perfume, just wanting him to be there. Who knows, maybe this would be another reason for her to forget her ego and to do something about what she wants :P I dunno, we'll see...hehe!

**"Spooladio" **Hiiiiiii!I missed hearing from you! So glad you're still reading. Thank you for the kind review and here's my super long reply to your review:

OMG EVERY single thing you said about Will is EXACTLY how I've always felt about him! I never felt the Willifer connection, watching the show. Maybe I dislike the actor, the accent or whatever, but he seems completely uninterested in JJ, in each scene they've ever had together and I feel like she deserved more! So I felt the urge to give my JJ some troubles with Will, just because I'm pissed lol! I don't think I can break a family apart, though, but some drama was fun to write. It won't be a big storyline, in fact I'll only mention it maybe once/twice more, to wrap it up and Will probably makes no appearance for it hehe.

Ooh, I _**really**_ like Luke :P I think he's hot :P Like...VERY cute :P

Nope, there won't be any mixing and matching between the eight BAU members, as they are now. I never shipped anyone, with anyone else, while watching the show. I feel like their friendships are goals and it shows that people can work in a good environment and be supported by their colleagues. Emily/Morgan, JJ/Reid, Rossi/Everyone, Garcia/Everyone, Luke/Matt/Tara...So many FRIENDSHIPS, based on pure intentions and "love", the platonic kind. I won't be messing with that, in my story. I mean, okay, Garcia will be drooling over Morgan forever and ever lol (and I am NOT going with the Garvez connection/friendship as they did on the show), but yeah, you get it :) The team of those 8 agents will be absolutely platonic friendships.

The document I was referring to in chapter 79 was the budget cut proposal, from the first chapters. The team sent it in, faking Emily's signature, stating they will cut funds from different things, the biggest one of all being NO INTERN that year. At first Emily had agreed, but then she changed her mind and was absolutely vocal and serious about it, but the team sent it in anyways, thinking they were doing her a favor (JJ wrote the entire proposal down, so that Emily won't need to bother with it after THAT case went wrong).

Now as for your assumptions:

1) I wish it was something so incredible heheh. However, it is all human, reality-based storytelling. There is a **HUGE LOT** of background, for multiple of the characters, that is the basis of the story. Those flashbacks serve to tickle everyone's curiosity and to give some insight into the past, because one can only know what is going on NOW if they know the past. But if you know it ALL, right NOW, it ruins everything that is about to happen (with the next bunch of chapters). Also, the whole point is that the readers figure it out on their own :P

2) **If** that's true, then it would be so inappropriate of her to help anyone land her...dad? OMG LOL, love this! Although, honestly, with the freak that Angela is, I can't say I don't see it happening - her trying to push Emily and Richard together.

3) LOL...it is true, actually. Angela has a LOT of my character and interests in her. The passion for criminology, the way she can never bite her tongue and she just says the darnest of things lol, her knowledge of foreign languages, the hatred for mathematics, her life in Europe. I think it's inevitable for a writer to end up transmitting a part of himself/herself into one of their characters.

PS: Next chapter is all about Angie!

**"sweetkid45"** LOL, if they exist, I'm tempted to get me some and have them as my home pet hahaha :)! Thanks for the kind words about the chapter, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Yes, Emily and JJ have an insanely close friendship (best friends - PLATONIC! Just in case someone thinks I'm setting up for Jemily - NOPE!), so Will is jealous that JJ is always there for Emily and that often upsets JJ and he is just worried about his wife and overreacting.


	91. Can I Have A Hug?

** CHAPTER 92**

_**CAN I HAVE A HUG?**_

A week had gone by so quickly.

The BAU had solved another case, a small one, but still, they brought victory back home.

The Academy Trainees had started their trainings at Hogan's Alley, putting all the theory to use. It was a huge mock-up of a real city, where actors were hired to act as hostages and terrorists, while the Trainees used their newly acquired skills to find, track, follow, disarm potential perpetrators.

The mock-up cases felt so incredibly real that most of the times the adrenaline came from real feelings, being under pressure, hurrying to make the right decision and to save someone's life. The FBI had done an incredible job with decors and the people they hired were trained to play different roles, in different scenarios. They'd throw twists at the Trainees – victims would turn out to be the terrorists, a bank robbery would turn out to be a smart decoy for a potential bombing, happening at the same time, at the central plaza of the made up town. There was a whole plane, where Trainees learned how to handle plane attacks and tried to deal with a situation where they had been hijacked.

Angela was loving every second of the Academy at that point. She was giving 200% of her energy into everything she did. SWAT cases were becoming one of her top favorite – she loved being on the field, geared up, surrounded by guns blazing, doors being kicked down, people shouting at the top of their lungs. Angie needed to blow off some steam, so she was incredibly grateful for every chance she got to yell like a wild woman, without being judged for it. She'd shout out orders for her team, while entering a house, or disarming a bomb. She'd be tough, she got to show a side of her that surprised Bryan.

He had always seen her as the sweet, gentle person, who was always nice to people, even when they were trying to knock her down. Yes, she was tough, but her tough side showed through her witty comments and snappy bite backs when people were being assholes to her. She had never really yelled, Bryan didn't even know she had it in her. Yet, seeing her on the field, absolutely in control, standing tall and believing in her words and actions, leading her team when she got to be Captain, yelling and running around with a handgun in her hand, it made him realize how incredibly awesome that girl was, how well she fit in with the FBI. He already had no doubt she belonged there, but this new kind of training only served to reassure him of that.

And Bryan was not the only one who had noticed that. It felt like, in just a week, Angela had transformed into a new person, someone who was on her training officers' radar constantly. They had started checking more boxes on her file, other than _ambitious, smart _and_ opinionated_.

Angie, in turn, had been checking boxes on her calendar, patiently waiting for a specific day to come. And as soon as that day came, she started counting the hours until she'd find herself in someone's office again.

* * *

"I never said it was a woman." Angie said defensively, crossing her arms and showing the person in front of her that she was not as easy to be read.

The day had finally come and she was finally sitting in that comfortable white sofa, inhaling the scent of fresh flowers. These were new, different to the ones from last week. The woman in front of her was wearing a really sweet two-piece costume, with some beige stockings and a pair of tiny heels. She looked so good, like a woman with authority. If Angie had seen her out, on the street, she would have assumed she was a socialite, one of those old money kind of people - rich, elegant, poised.

Yet, as nice as Martha looked, she was giving Angie a headache. Ten minutes into their second session and she had already started pushing Angie's buttons. Where was Hogan's Alley at that moment? Angie desperately needed to scream, to let it all out, to punch things and to kick down doors.

"You didn't have to, my dear." Martha replied to her outburst in a very calm manner.

"Fine. I'm going to call them a _he_ then."

"Angela, you can call them a _Monkey_. It won't change anything."

Angie spent about five minutes in complete silence. Her eyes scanned the room. There was a wall, full of diplomas and achievements. Angie could not help but feel a bit jealous. This woman could almost be her grandmother, if she had had kids at a very early age. Clearly Angie could not have achieved so many things in so little time, but still, somehow she compared herself to her therapist's success.

There were flowers.

Lots of flowers.

Everywhere.

That must be where that pleasant smell was coming from. It smelled like Spring. Angie closed her eyes and remembered a Spring, at a place she considered home, with a person who made every place seem like home for her.

Martha let her get consumed by her own thoughts. It was only going to help her, even if she wouldn't choose to share it out loud.

Then her eyes opened again and she saw the clock. Ticking.

Good. It was an indication she was still alive. She remembered a time in her life when the clock had stopped ticking.

"Uhh!" She gasped out loud, thinking of that specific event.

"Do you need some water?" Martha suggested, holding a glass out for Angie.

She stood completely still for another minute. Martha didn't even see her taking a breath during that time. Nor exhale. She seemed like a lifelike statue and that was disturbing.

It wasn't until Martha looked Angie in the eyes, that she realized what was going on. Through the years, she had seen many people holding back tears. She knew the signs.

"Do you want a-..." Martha intended to suggest a snack, maybe a glass of juice, a break maybe.

"Can I have a hug?" Angie asked silently, her lower lip quivering, while her face remained completely immobile, other than her lips moving. Her eyes did not blink. She seemed to be staring at nothing, with a blank expression on her face.

Martha's heart broke a little bit. To have Angie come out with such an intimate request was not only a win for her as a therapist, but also a plus for Angie as a human. The first step to healing was admitting the problem. Martha had already figured out Angie's real underlining issue and the lack of intimacy, of hugs, was part of it.

She stood up and held her hands out. Angie did not hesitate for a second before she jumped in. Normally, she hated intimacy. She hated people touching her or showing any sort of affection. Only a few people in the world had ever had that privilege with her. The others had to keep their distance. And yet, not even knowing a thing about Martha, she was allowed to hold her. And it felt good.

"Angela, is there anyone in your life you can talk to right now?"

"No..." She said quietly. "I mean, there's _you_…for five hours."

Martha still had her in her arms. She felt her heartbeat, a little messy, a little too fast. She felt each time that Angie exhaled, as the air brushed against her neck.

"Does anyone know you're in the Academy?" She hated having to ask that question, but she had to fill in Angie's patient sheet and she was required to specify a person or people who knew where Angela was.

When the girl did not reply, Martha asked a different question.

"Who is your emergency contact?"

Angie shrugged, still not letting go. Her hands were wrapped around Martha like her life depended on it.

"I don't have anyone..." She finally broke down.

With dry eyes, she allowed herself to freak out a little bit. She sobbed, with no tears. It was one thing to know how her life was, but a completely different thing to admit it out loud. It made her feel small. Insignificant. Worthless.

"Listen..." Martha broke off the hug before Angie would need medications if this turned into a panic attack.

"How about you put _me_ as your emergency contact, huh? Sounds good? I live nearby and I have good contacts in the hospital. Just in case. Okay? I'm not saying anything bad will happen to you. I just want you to know there will be someone who'd be there for you, anytime."

"I _do_ have someone who'd be there for me when I die." Angie's words confused Martha.

"But you said you have no one in your life..."

"Yeah. Not in my _life_. Guess it would take me _dying_, for them to realize they had finally lost me."

"Is that the same person who has been reaching out to you?"

"Yup."

"Same one who makes it home, wherever you are?"

"Mhm."

"Same one whom you'd rather stay home with, then go out and meet new friends, people your age?"

Angie bit her bottom lip.

"Why do you hold so much resentment towards her?" Martha sacrificed herself and pushed another 'her' in the question.

She had figured it out, it was a very stereotypical case, but Angela was in complete denial about it if she wasn't even willing to put a gender to the person they were discussing.

"I don't. I love...Monkey. That's the problem." Angie was smart enough to always avoid gender, when talking about that person. She would continue avoiding it until it would blow up in her face. If she could help it, she'd never utter a 'she' or a 'he' in a sentence that concerned the culprit.

"Again. Why?"

"Because they hurt me. Twice. And I felt like I was dead. I don't ever want to feel like that again! I've spent my life, being strong. Surviving. Providing for myself. Teaching myself to overcome any obstacle. And they…they came along and ruined it. They made me weak. They made me…" Angie then decided to stop. It was obvious what she was trying to communicate.

Martha chose her next words wisely.

"Sometimes in life, we get hurt even by the people who love us the most. It's their actions that sometimes hurt us, even if they didn't mean to. But then it is up to _us_ to decide whether we let them back into our lives or not."

"Cool. I've decided _not_ to do so."

"However…" Martha did not allow Angie to utter one more dumb thing.

"We need to see things through their eyes, put ourselves in their shoes." She added. "You know, I once spoke to someone with the exact opposite problem. She was the one to have hurt someone else."

"Oh?" Angie perked up, looking at the woman curiously. "How did she get over it? Did you figure out why she did it?"

"Yes, I knew why she did it. She never figured it out for herself, though. It was years ago when we spoke and she never got over it. So, if it is any comfort for you, it is not exactly easy to be on the other side of _hurt_. Just because Monkey hurt you, it doesn't mean that she didn't hurt herself, as well. What do you know? Maybe she's hurting more than you are."

"I doubt that."

"Why?"

"They're happy, smiling, with a new family now. I feel like I'm just a commodity – when I'm around, I'm wanted. When I'm gone, who cares about me?"

Martha let out a scoff, subconsciously.

"I'm sorry, did you find any of this entertaining?" Angie said, taking some offence.

"No. I'm just trying to picture the person who wouldn't want to have _you_ in their life. Like, how does that work?" Martha said smartly.

"A lot of people dislike me. I'm okay with that. I'm only human."

"Maybe if you stopped with the act and started showing people who you _really_ are, more people would like you, huh?"

Angie had heard enough about her so-called _act_. She wanted people to stop calling her out on it, so she could keep on living in sweet denial.

"Look, I don't know your situation. I barely even know _you_, but from I can tell – and I'm an extraordinary judge of character, you are a sweet, smart girl. I think you're being a little immature with the way you are handling this, though." Martha spoke slowly, hoping she wouldn't offend the girl.

"I'm being cautious. It's different."

"You are closing yourself off from the possibility of having something, someone you love. And a home. Just because they _might_ hurt you again."

"Exactly!" Angela confirmed and, a second later, realized how lame that plan sounded.

"Alright, I admit, it's not ideal. But I don't know how to deal with it in any other way. I want to, but I just don't know how." Angie added.

"Well, give them a chance, maybe?"

"Mmh, I'm open to other suggestions…"

Martha gave her a stern look.

"Can you try to see the good in them? Next time you are around that person, try to remember all the good. See if you can catch yourself smiling around them. See how they make you feel. Because it is easy to ignore someone's letters, but it's hard to ignore how you feel when they are right there, in front of you. It's easy to act out and pretend to hate them, shut them off or reply rudely. But it's hard to not make them see right through you. And if that other person is smart-…"

"So incredibly smart!" Angie butted in.

"See? Then they're going to see the way you feel about them, no matter what you do. If you push them away, they'd know what you really want from them. If you let them in, they'd know. Either way, they would know. People are much better at analyzing and profiling behavior than you think."

"Oh, I have no doubt Monkey is just _great_ at it…" Angie rolled her eyes real quick.

"Now, before we wrap this up, I'm giving you a little task, okay? I want you to see them, in person. You don't have to talk to them. Just look at them and see how it makes you feel."

"Wait, are we done already? Are you screwing me out of minutes? There is no way this was a whole hour!" Angie crossed her hands in front of her chest, this time not in her defense, but as a sign of disapproval, even disappointment maybe. She had waited a week for this and now it was over. "Can we change the task? Can I try to substitute that person with someone else?"

"No, Angela. It is not possible to substitute the people you love."

"Okay, so can I maybe look at them and pretend like they're someone else? Like, I'll give them a different name…but it will be the same person." She bargained.

"No matter what names you give someone, they will always be the same person. They are like winter coats – you can put a different one every single day, but underneath it you are just _you_, no more, no less. Remember that. Now, do as you wish, but unless you do something about it, you'll never figure out why _this_ hurts so much…" Martha trailed off, pointing a finger at Angie's chest.

"I think I'll start by spying on them in the dark and pretending like they're someone else." Somehow that made a lot of sense to Angie, so she chose to say it out loud.

"That is just creepy." Martha laughed. "And, God, you're _so_ opinionated. Lately everyone is making me work hard for my money!" Martha laughed, remembering an agent she had spoken to, just a few days ago. Angela and that Agent were like two peas in a pod.

"May I give you a piece of advice?" Martha asked permission since, as her therapist, she was not supposed to advise. She was supposed to help Angela decide for herself, what her best choices were.

"Decide on one thing. If you want them in your life – hold onto that olive branch they've extended. If you want them gone, let them know. But don't leave them waiting - that only makes them go through more pain." She then said, after Angie had nodded, wanting the advice.

After hearing those words, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. It was all so clear to her now. Or at the very least, it sure felt that way.

Once again, Angie walked straight to the reception desk, asking for Martha's next free hour.

Therapy wasn't all that bad.

In fact, it was actually kind of good.

* * *

That evening Angie was beyond tired. Theory classes, two different trainings, one therapy session and almost no food at all, had led her to feel exhausted, but she had something on her mind and she knew she needed to do it right away, or she might end up never doing it at all.

She grabbed her small portable reading lamp and a book, so that Bryan would think this was just one of her usual outdoor reading sessions, and she left the dorms. Ten minutes later she was making herself comfortable, placing a blanket on the grass, near the fountain, laying down and switching the lamp on. It was dark outside, it was quite late in the evening, so there wasn't a single soul out by the fountain. Angie knew this would be the best place to do this, to finally put an end to her pain.

She opened the book, only to grab the few pieces of paper that she had hidden between the pages. She laid them down, using the book as something hard, to write on top of. Inside her pocket there were three different pens, just in case one would malfunction. She was set on doing this and she could not wait. Maybe then she would feel a little less angry at this person who, she had started to refer to as 'Monkey'.

Her eyes scanned her surroundings and everything was so peaceful. All she could hear was the water from the fountain falling down. It was one of the very few sounds in life that calmed Angela down, no matter what was going on in her life. The other thing was Monkey's voice, their touch, their warmth.

Something inside of her was hurting. Doing this would really be the end of a very important chapter in her life – the end of her and Monkey. Did she really want to do this? It might be irreversible.

Martha had told Angela to make a decision: keep this person in her life or let them go. After that decision was taken, she had to let this person know. At the time, it had sounded perfectly reasonable. However, finding herself speechless, in front of blank pieces of paper and three fully functioning blue ink pens, Angie realized how incredibly hard this was. What if that decision altered her entire life? And then again – what did she have to lose? Surely there would be no gain, but maybe unloading her emotional pain on a piece of paper, or five, would be therapeutic.

Also, Monkey was the one who had decided to make contact via letters. Angie had received two care packages from the same person, with a heartbreaking letter inside of each. She couldn't possibly care less about the expensive things she had been gifted, but she cared a lot about those letters. They also confused her. At times she felt wanted, like maybe Monkey was reaching out and slowly testing to see where they stand with Angela. Other times she thought those letters were selfish and that Monkey had no right wanting anything to do with someone they had failed, twice.

"Just start writing or you'll go insane!" Angie commanded herself in a whisper.

She then thought long and hard about the structure of the letter. She was somewhat of a perfectionist, in certain occasions, so she wanted this letter to be amazing – structured, with beginning, a middle part and an eloquent ending.

The perfect letter - in her mind that was the equivalent of the perfect way to handle her situation.

As soon as the pen hit the paper, she realized it was not.

"Okay, fine. No structure. There, lowering my pressure levels before I snap and destroy a bench or two." She hissed at herself quietly, deciding to just go with the flow.

"Now, I'll just put it down with the first words that come to my mind. Okay? Sounds good…right?" She rolled her eyes at the silly way she was now having a conversation with herself.

"What comes to mind, I write down and there will be no editing. Monkey is smart enough to figure it out, in case something isn't too clear. Then again, I don't care. I'm doing this for me. Heck, I should write it in Turkish, just to be sure the bitch won't know what I'm going on about." Angie grinned devilishly, but discarded that idea quickly.

"Also, nobody says I should actually send this out, right? I mean, writing down your feelings is good enough, to make you feel better. Isn't that what shrinks tell their patients, they tell them to keep a diary. So, maybe I should just write this thing and then tear it into pieces and go set a fire at a secluded location and just throw it in and watch it burn slowly…"

Angie took a breath, realizing her thoughts were taking her to a dark place – destroying benches, burning things…these were not positive thoughts, connected to the healing process that she desired.

"Ok, here we go…" She placed the pen on the paper for the second time, but it stood immobile. It didn't write a thing.

"Damn it!" Her free hand hit the ground in a fist. It kind of hurt, but she wasn't new to physical pain. In fact, _that_ kind of pain she was perfectly able to endure. It was the emotional kind that was screwing her up ever since she stepped foot in the Academy.

"This is not how I imagined it would be…" She told herself.

"I thought we would…I don't know…talk? Maybe go grab a coffee? I thought you'd want to see me, but you seem to be scared of me. And, yeah, fine, I get it…after what you did to me, I suppose I get how you might be afraid of approaching me. But you should have at least tried. I didn't deserve a letter. How can I ever tell you what I feel?" She kept thinking, quickly switching from having a conversation with herself, to actually speaking to Monkey, in her mind.

"Oh, I liked this…" She stopped and thought about her previous few sentences. They had been open, honest, directed to Monkey and unedited. This was exactly the approach she wanted, for her letter. It was one more reason for her to just start writing and let whatever her soul would want to share, turn into text. It sounded perfect, personal, emotional, real, raw. This was surely the way to go.

Angie put on her earphones and played a song on repeat while she busied herself writing. It was a song that perfectly described how she felt about Monkey, at this point in her life. It was a song that put her in the mood to not hold back.

An hour later she found herself short out of breath, leaning over a few pieces of paper, a chaotic letter with no beginning, no end, no real point and not too informative, either. It was perfect! It was exactly what could represent her mood. It was a work of art. It was a huge mess, one that would sound like gibberish to anyone who would read it. Anyone _but_ Monkey.

She set the papers aside and let her eyes look at the windows of the main building with curiosity. She had a million questions, running through her mind, at that moment.

What's it like to work there?

How many people were still inside, so late at night?

What was the time anyway?

If the coast was clear, could she maybe get away with stealing a few cookies from the Lounge on the second floor?

Were there cookies left there, in the evening?

Did the cleaning staff do the cleaning late at night or early in the morning?

How many desks would there be, inside that building?

Was she even going to have the courage to send that letter?

She sighed when her own thoughts brought her back to the reality, the letter. It was rough and it wasn't the most flattering thing in the world, but she had always been straight forward with Monkey and Angela, as weird as she might have been, was a person with integrity. She would tell Monkey the unfiltered truth, even if it would hurt. It was part of what made her relationship with Monkey so special – they had always been honest with each other. Well, except for those two times when Monkey had dumped her like trash and moved on with their life, without Angela in it.

"Damn it!" Angela hissed out loud.

Whenever she thought about Monkey, inevitably she always came to the conclusion that no matter the great times they've had, the pain was too big for her to forgive and forget. Not this time. She had to put herself first now. Monkey had to be replaced with someone else. Angela had to look at someone and pretend like they were a completely different person. A stranger. She was only willing to move on and let someone get to know her now, if that someone was not Monkey.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan"** Oh, Emily is slowly getting better and she doesn't even know it. I have a feeling Emily is secretly **very** fond of Lauren, but she is afraid to admit it, because Lauren was "bad". That's kind of how she felt about Ian Doyle - drawn to him, as something forbidden, but something she really ended up wanting, not just because she was assigned to him :P You'll be seeing lots of Emily putting the team first, it actually is a pretty big thing later on, a deal breaker of sorts. Also, your line about "healing them heals her too" gave me maximum chills, as it is EXACTLY what I've written in one of the next chapters, months ago! I haven't even posted it yet and you quoted it basically word-by-word, wow! Upcoming conversations between JJ and Emily, don't you worry about it *wink* those two know how to end up opening up to each other. PS: When did you know/suspect Richard was talking to an AI machine, instead of a human? I'm curious to know!

**"Spooladio"** Yeah, Emily accepts Lauren more than she consciously realizes. Don't worry, Emily and JJ have a way of ending up pouring out their feelings to each other, so I can only say you will NOT be disappointed by what is going to happen next. JJ knows better than to confront Emily straightforward and Emily knows better than to continue living in denial, if it keeps on hurting this much. I wanted that conversation to be special and to come in a "cute" way, so I tried to build up for that with what comes up next. JJ is scared to ask Emily about the letter, but Emily is terrified of admitting about it, as it would make it so officially real and she is still trying to work out how she feels about it and _him._ But yeah, if she ever speaks to someone, I don't think there is a better one than JJ :P Sure, Emily told Morgan, but that was NOT for advice, it was just an emotional downpour, mere days after her heartbreak. Ems now needs advice, she needs the opinion of someone who knows her better than she knows herself, someone who wants to see her happy, someone who understands from a female point of view. As for Martha, she knows a few of Emily's secrets, so it's easier for her to "read" Emily now. Martha also knows WHY Emily feels so confused and bad, but she won't say it out loud until Emily embraces it and admits to it. As you would have just read in this chapter 91, Martha managed to get through to Angie, in ways other people never would have managed to. I suppose Martha deserves a raise hehe! LOL, I'm glad you laughed at Richard's plot! At what point did you know/suspect he was talking to an AI machine? I'm curious to know! Poor Richard, he is **so** smitten by Lauren and nothing seems to be helping him relax and stop thinking about her. Yet, he refuses to move on.

**"sweetkid45"** Oh, nooo, I won't kill him off! I just wanted to use Will for some drama for JJ, so someone could have drama hehe.


	92. Why Wasn't I Good Enough For You?

** CHAPTER 92**

_**WHY WASN'T I GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?**_

The very next morning after writing the letter, Angie woke up with a headache. She had heard American people say "Sleep on it" so many times, when it came to making a huge decision and taking your time to do it, so she took that a bit too literally.

Her hand flew under the pillow and she retrieved the few folded pieces of paper that she had written on, the night before. She had folded them in three, ready to be put inside of an envelope. There was no way she would unfold them or even read this mess of a 'letter' one more time. She knew she would cry if she did so. Moreover, she knew she would never have the guts to send it out if she ever laid eyes on it again.

While Bryan was taking his morning shower, Angie searched for that envelope she had received a few weeks back, with some documents about the Academy. She stuck her own letter inside, dumping out the documents and striking out the things that were written on the outside of the envelope with thick black pen, until it was just a thick line of darkness. She sighed, finding it this much harder to now put the recipients real full name on the envelope. This felt wrong on so many levels. She knew she was going to hurt this person, but she also knew she had to put herself first. And, if Monkey was smart, they would figure out the real message, behind this mess of a letter.

Angie hadn't made it super finite. There was a little door that she left unlocked, so maybe in the future it could be opened. But, on her end, she was scared to do it. She was confused about this person and she needed to let them know, if not out of integrity, then out of respect. They had reached out twice, but Angie hadn't written back yet.

"Tell Dan and the trainer that I'm out on my morning jog." She instructed Bryan when he got out of the shower and saw her dressed up and ready to leave without him.

"I'll later say I was jogging and I lost track of time, so I'll just roll up to the training field with a few minutes of delay." She added before she was out the door.

Ten minutes later she was at the reception desk at the main building.

"Hello, where can I find the mailman?" Angie asked the girl behind the desk.

The girl called someone and a few minutes later a guy showed up.

"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you and I will pay cash for your services, but this is an urgent matter and it cannot wait. I'm a Trainee here and I can't find the time to go to an actual post office to post this. Would you, please, be kind enough to do me a favor and deliver this in person?" She asked sweetly.

Luckily for her, the guy was completely mesmerized by the beauty of her green eyes, so he understood little of what she said before he held his hand out and let her put the envelope in it.

"How soon can you deliver this?" She asked, handing him twenty dollars very discretely.

He briefly checked the recipient's name and address before replying.

"Five minutes." He said, still drooling over her beauty.

"Thank you so much!" Angie blew him a kiss and she ran out of the main building.

She made it to her training at the moment it was starting, so she didn't even manage to get in trouble for being late. Bryan sure looked relieved, but Dan gave her a quizzical look. This was the girl who was always early, for any type of training, any class at all, except for Tactical Driving. Everyone knew how much she hated that.

* * *

A knock on the door startled Monkey as they sat in their office, early in the morning. Who could it possibly be? They were there early, to get a jump start on something connected to work and surely nobody they worked with would be there at this hour.

"I'm sorry to bother you…" The young mailman murmured when he walked in. "There is a direct delivery for you. Have a good day."

Monkey took the envelope in their hands and their heart skipped a beat. This was _her_ handwriting, Angie's handwriting.

They set the documents aside. Those could wait. The envelope, on the other hand, was a pressing matter they had to tend to right away.

Unluckily for them, their office phone rang. Ten minutes and the call was done, but then an e-mail came. And then another one. And then they realized they had a dozen e-mails to reply to, from the previous day. Every little setback took time and it was urgent, so Monkey kept on postponing until the worst happened – their colleagues started arriving, acting all cheerful, discussing the smallest everyday life thigs and grabbing their second coffee of the day.

Monkey had to join them, this is what they always did. Not doing so would surely raise suspicions. But what about the letter? They were itching to open and read it, analyze every word, profile every dot, every letter, every space between the words. A lot was at stakes.

The morning was busy, they had meetings to attend and people to go see. The letter was in their purse at all times, but it had been unopened.

Monkey tried to get away from the group lunch that day, but it was not happening. One of their colleagues had a crazy story to tell and they really wanted Monkey to be there, too. There goes their attempt to sneak out and go read their letter while everyone else was grabbing Mexican food at their favorite restaurant.

After lunch Monkey was hit with more papers to review and little tasks to do, with different members of their team. To top it all – they had to stay late that night, as they had a late meeting with someone and they had to prepare for that. So, there was absolutely no time for the letter.

Long after the sun had set, Monkey returned to their office, feeling exhausted from the day and stressed out about the letter. They kicked their shoes off and sat back in their chair after making sure there wasn't a single person left on the floor where their team worked at. It was just Monkey and the darkness – just the way they liked it.

Suddenly feeling a bit chilly, Monkey put a blazer on top of their smart shirt, but it didn't make much difference. Their only hope was that some miracle would happen and they would feel warmth when they'd open and read that letter. That, however, was hardly going to be the case.

Monkey took a huge sip of water, to stabilize their emotions, before they even dared to open the envelope. Inside there were multiple papers and they sighed in pain, as this was an indication of a long way of explaining how much the person who wrote this letter hated Monkey.

With a loud sigh, Monkey started reading, holding the first paper with one hand while crossing their fingers, with the other. They could not imagine a world, without this young girl in it. They had lived in denial, in compete silence, for so many years. Nobody knew. Nobody needed to know. Monkey knew and Angela knew, that was enough for them.

Monkey knew this would not be an easy read, but they were not even remotely prepared for what would hit them. From the first few lines they could already tell this was a huge emotional downpour and there was no structure, no clarity, no full sentences and no perfection to it. That was precisely what made it the perfect letter, in their eyes.

Monkey's eyes scanned the papers greedily before they continued reading. They could imagine Angie writing this, surely it would have been written in the dark. Monkey knew Angie well enough to know that the dark relaxed her, she felt more in her element.

They couldn't even imagine how hard it must have been for Angie to come up with this text, to write down the first thoughts that popped in her mind. But it was perfect. It was honest. It was brutal, at times. But it was perfect. And it hurt so damn much.

Monkey felt emotional just after the first line, but they tried to keep that in check. Tried and failed, anyway.

Those words were painful to read, but they had to keep in mind the pain Angie must have felt while writing them, too. Monkey hadn't only hurt Angie when they failed her. They had hurt themselves, too, making this reading process twice as painful to endure.

After the first few sentences, Monkey allowed themselves to imagine Angela saying those words out loud to them, in a soft voice, tortured voice, but very child-like and innocent. It felt like a monologue from some tragedy show at the theater. Monkey pictured Angie, in the middle of the stage, with dim lights around her, sitting on the floor, looking right into Monkey's eyes and delivering the monologue of her life. God help her, Angela was an amazing actress and Monkey knew that.

At some point Monkey was completely immersed into the theater play and she just let it all play out, as she continued reading…

* * *

_**ANGELA'S LETTER**_

Ok hi, let me start writing before I give myself another dumb reason not to!

This won't be easy. Nor pretty. My handwriting sucks. I couldn't put my thoughts into words if you paid me for it. I'm not good at any of this. But hey, I'm only human…

I went to therapy. Not because of you. Because of me. And also, because SSA Garrett literally forced me to go.

And yet, it was all because of you.

I was asked about my life, my hobbies, my home. And as much as I wanted to keep you out of it all, your damn face kept staring at me, each time I closed my eyes before giving an answer.

_"__Where is your home, Angela?"_

_"__Well, my home is where Monkey is."_

Don't ask. I had to give you a name, the name of an animal. But hey, at least it was a cute one this time!

Ughh…

This makes no sense. I don't know what to say…

I know you've been reaching out. But, would you have done so if I hadn't ended up at the Academy? Why now? Are you afraid you're losing me? Do you think I'm building a life, one without you? You know, kind of like what you did, after you dumped me, each time…

Yes, this was supposed to hurt. Please, be hurt! I want you to suffer, the way I did. Maybe then you'd understand what you've put me through.

I was a child…

A child who needed you…

A child you vowed to love…

To protect…

A strong, opinionated child, but a _child_ nonetheless…

A child, who loved you more than life itself…

A child, whose whole entire life was _you_…

You want to know why you and I worked so perfectly well together? Because we came from the same place of screwed up relationships, lives full of deceit, lies, pretending, fake identities. We both understood what we were getting ourselves into, yet we both dived into it, willing to take every blow, willing to let this pretense world ruin us. But it was okay, we had each other. We felt safe. _I_ felt safe. I had _you_ to protect me.

And I was a smart child, I knew there would come a time when we'd part ways. I was prepared for it, well, at least I thought I was until the moment came. It was messy and I didn't accept it well. Clearly. Come on, you really screwed me up with that stunt!

But then, I've had years to think about it and…yeah, maybe I get it. I know why you did what you did. I know you _had_ to. And I know you saved my life, doing what you did.

But, you see, I'm only human… And I was a child. I was so incredibly hurt. I didn't understand why I wasn't good enough to have received a warning. Why did nobody tell me? Why did you just have to announce your…you know? Yeah, I've been wondering what if things were different. But we can't change things. We can only learn from them and move on…

And I did. I tried to move on. But for the longest time I felt like I was dead. Hell, I _wished_ I was dead. And no, I did not do anything to put my life in danger, don't worry. I was a smart kid. I've been taking care of myself my whole entire life.

This is so incredibly dragged on and long so far and I've barely touched base…

My point is – I get it. I know. Whatever it is that you want me to know, I do know it. It's still hard. But I found it in me to forgive you once. I felt the joy of having you back in my life, a second time around. And it was even better than the first, because we almost got to be our real selves. Almost. But not entirely…

And yet, it was perfect. _You_ were perfect. And I found myself falling in love with you all that much more. I loved your home cooked meals, I loved spending time with you. My best memories – no, my _only_ memories, are the ones with you. Every other memory, I've erased from my mind. Because a memory without you, is a memory I don't need to store, as it would only take up space I could have otherwise used for other memories, ones with you. This sounds so dumb, but that's how I feel. I was obsessed with you. I loved your touch. I loved how, each time I was with you, I felt like a five year old - happy, vibrant…loved. Wanted…

I know you wanted me. I know you still do. So you can stop overcompensating with material things. Gifts won't make me forgive you again. If I had to be brutally honest, I don't think anything could. Because, as much as I love you, I have to love myself first. I grew up on my own. Life taught me to put _me_ first. Hey, I'm only human, it's basic survival skills.

But I find it so hard to have you back now. And then, to not have you back at all. Do you understand? You are not the person who once vowed to walk me through life. You said you'd walk me down the aisle someday. I believed you. Hell, I almost started wanting to get married, just to have you by my side, to see you do good on that promise. And then you failed me. Twice…

You challenged me to profile you. Well, I already have. And I get you. I get it. All of it. But it still hurts. So. Damn. Much!

Now, why don't you profile _me_?

Or have you already done that, too?

Have you figured out how weak you left me in this world? How you gave me life, and then made me want to throw it all away? How I've never been able to connect to someone, after you? Have you profiled what it meant to me, all those months we spent together, the second time around? I followed you like a puppy. I studied your every move. I ate the foods you liked. I dressed in your clothes, because this is how desperate I was to be with you. Be _like_ you. Be approved of, by you. I wanted you to see I've grown into this cool young girl, the one you've always dreamed to have…

Have you profiled why I am horrified to be myself around new people? Why I never let anyone get to know me? Have you figured out that, to me, there is no point in doing so, since I feel like everyone is just going to leave? Why waste my time? Why let my guards down? Why let someone see me, the real me, whoever the Hell she might be, when they would ultimately leave?

Why do I think they'd leave, huh…have you profiled that? Could it maybe point to me, thinking I'm never going to be good enough, no matter what character I play? Because, if the real me, the one I showed you years ago, was not good enough to make you stay, then why show her to anyone else? Why not start playing games, start pretending, use different names, live in different places, lie, deceive people, why not turn into a completely new person, repeatedly? Huh? Maybe one day, I'd find the character I should play, the one who'd be good enough…

Because I wasn't good enough for you…

Why wasn't I good enough for you?

What did I do wrong?

Please, tell me it was _my_ fault! Blame it all on me. I beg you!

Because I cannot bear the thought of you, not being perfect enough. Not wanting me…

You _are_ perfect!

You may lie, your past may be shady, you may be a lot of things, but you are perfect to me.

So, please, tell me it was _my_ fault. I need to blame this on anyone, but you.

I've tried hating you.

I've blamed you for so long.

And it only left me even more confused.

Maybe it wasn't you? Maybe it was really me?

I am terrified by the thought of you being back in my life again, because I know what losing you feels like. Endless nights of pain. I cried for you! I never cry! But I've cried for you. Twice. And I never want to cry again in my life. Not even for you. I'm sorry. I love you, but I don't want to cry for you again.

And I'm not crying even now, as I write this.

Well, I'm confused. I don't think I'd even send this to you. Would you even read it? It's so long and messy and weird and it makes absolutely no sense. I won't go back and read it again before I send it, if I ever do. Because I _will_ cry then. I know I will. And I'd find so many grammar mistakes, that it is ridiculous that someone as educated as me would have even come up with something so sloppy and imperfect.

But that's who I am. I'm educated. I'm sloppy. I'm imperfect. And, in my own weird way, I'm in love with you and with all of your perfect imperfections, too.

Hey, I'm only human…

And I'm 23 years old, for God's sake. I should be bar-hopping, drunk off my ass, having one night stands with hot, arrogant guys and sniffing stupid white crap out of well-polished surfaces. I shouldn't be educated. I shouldn't be perfect. I shouldn't be working so hard…to make you want me. And to make myself a good person. I shouldn't have spent my life, working so hard. What was the point? I wasn't good enough…

Why wasn't I good enough for you?

Now, please profile one thing out of me – Why do I still want you back? Why am I tempted an also kind of willing to put all my fears aside and to let you back into my life? Why is it that every time I see you in your perfect FBI glamour, with your new friends all around you, I want nothing more but to put my stupid fears aside and run to your side, to hug you tight, like I used to do all these years ago? Do you remember my hugs? You'd call them 'bear hugs'. I'd stick to you like glue and I wouldn't move, I wouldn't breathe, if not to breathe in your scent. I still remember exactly how you smelled. I know you've changed your signature perfume since then, but I remember the old one. I liked it, it was sweet, mysterious, strong, but not too much. Just like you. Fragile. Yet strong. Full of surprises.

I'm an adult now. I hide behind the identity of a bubbly girl, without a care in the world. But it's just pretense. I'm not happy. I don't think I ever could be, anymore. And I don't know who I really am. Can you profile that, too, please? Because I need to understand it.

Can you, also, tell me why I see you now, but I don't see the person I love? You two look identical, yet are so different. Why does the person you are now, want to have me back, but the person you used to be, dumped me twice? Where is the logic in all of it?

The one who loves me...is it you? Or is it your alter ego?

I need to ask you a favor. Please stop reaching out. I don't want to read your letters. It's not your _words_ that I need. I needed _you_. I always will. But I can't keep hurting. They say with time, pain goes away. Like Hell, no, it does not! I hurt now, the way I hurt the day they told me you were gone… And I will never forget it. You broke me. How dare you love me and then break me?

If I ever heal enough to be able to go through the pain of letting you back into my life, I'll come search for you. But not now. Not here. I need to do this on my own. I can't handle seeing you and not seeing…_you_. I don't even know the person you are now. I don't feel comfortable around you. I still want to hate you and I hate myself for it, because it seems as if I'm being childish and holding a grudge, but pain is not quantifiable. It also is impossible to explain. Pain knows no empathy. Well, arguably, cognitive empathy would apply, but that's not my point. Although, it is scientifically proven in neurobiology that a subject's empathy for the pain of others only elicits activity in the anterior cingulate cortex and _not_ in the somatosensory cortex, so yeah…

Just, Please, stop any and every contact with me!

It is now _your_ time to wait and hope that one day I'd come looking for you.

And one last thing, because I am _so_ incredibly close to bawling my eyes out and, like I said – I'm not going to cry for you no more!

The one thing I'm sure of in this life is that we're not promised tomorrow. So, if you ever come back in my life, I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you.. And I'm gonna hold you, like I'm saying goodbye. Wherever we're standing, I won't take you for granted. Because we never know when we'll run out of time…

And if you want to bawl your eyes out, listen to the song that I just quoted. It's from a few years ago, but whenever I hear it, I think about you. I should probably also mention that I've listened to it on a loop for a while now.

And please don't cry for me. Your beautiful face does not deserve to feel tears, over someone who's not worthy of your love.

Ok.

Bye.

And just by the way…

_If you love me always, I'll love you forever!_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**DISCLAIMER:** **This letter was _intentionally_ written chaotic and all over the place, as this is what represents Angie's state of mind. All the trailing off and repetitions were very much intentional, too. Just a disclaimer before someone assumes I half-assed wrote this chapter while drunk hehe :)!**

**"GUEST"** India? Wow, that is sooo far from where I live and it's cool to connect through something as random as a story hehe! I've been on lockdown for three months now, it's weird how it was Winter and now suddenly it's Summer LOL! Nope, I haven't watched Blood & Treasure, why? Is it good? I might give it a go if it's about crime and secret agents hehe, I enjoy such shows! Now a random question for you: which Criminal Minds character do you like the most and why? :) Mine would obviously be Emily, as I find her to be so extremely complex (as a character) and so interesting to explore in writing, with her occasional dark moments and her secrets and past as a spy.

**"Spooladio"** Look out for the words that point to Monkey's gender. I've intentionally let out a few 'slip ups'. But yeah, Monkey screwed Angie up more than she even realizes, despite the numerous psychology books she has read on that matter. However, the question now is whether Angie would cut Monkey out completely or she would give them a third chance? Or would she do as she told Martha and go stalk them and pretend like they are someone else, LOL? After all, Angie is the master of denial, her one and only equal opponent probably being Emily with her own denial and trust issues hahaha. This chapter is a HUGE turning point in the story. From now on Angie works on herself and those issues that have resurfaced, but she might not do so in the most convenient and healthy way. We shall see :) LOL thanks for replying about the AI, I was very curious. Yeah, those were the clues I put in there (repetition and her saying 'I'm afraid I cannot do that' in a robotic way). It's fun to know the readers caught on those hints :)! And OMG I have a feeling you will FLIP THE HECK OUT (not in a bad way, but as a surprise) when they learn about each other's identities! Trust me, you have no idea what is coming up hehe :P I hope you (and everyone else obviously) enjoy my ideas and the chapters to come. It's all a HUGE mess of hidden secrets, love, affection, relationships, identities, just ughhhhh you just wait for it, okay? :P Also, you are welcome about sharing my story :)! The amazing feedback that I get from my reviewers is more than a reward for me, for all those hours of planning, writing, editing, etc. I'm lucky to have each one of you, guys, reading and reviewing (or even just only reading) and enjoying the mysterious mess that I have so carefully planned and created lol :)! Remember that things seem weird and messy, but one day everything would make sense and you'll look back at the older chapters and be like "WTH I NEVER SAW THAT!" hehehe!

**"Ducksdragonfly"** HIII :)! I'm glad to hear that, it's always very nice to hear from you. Stay in touch, don't be a stranger :)! Also, thanks, that therapy comment was a _huge_ compliment *wink*. Take care of yourself (and the people around you!) and know that each time you msg/review me, it puts a big happy smile on my face and I appreciate it, a lot :)!

**"rmpcmfan"** Awh, if your heart ached in chapter 91, then I guess this chapter 92 here must have been hard to read. It was hard to write, as well. I must have read it a million times, to make sure it was just as chaotic and emotional as I needed it to be (the letter, I mean). It's the first huge clue as to who Angie is and what the Heck is going on in her head. And yes, Martha was right about being on the other side, I wanted someone to show Angela that there are TWO sides to "hurt" and that even if she feels like she is on the wrong side, it doesn't necessarily mean the other person has had it easy. As for Monke's gender, I've let out a few 'slips' that give clues to that. Angie won't EVER put a gender to Monkey, but Martha is a smart woman and so are my readers :)! Monkey is absolutely CLUELESS as to how to verbalize their feelings! It terrifies them and they suffer with it constantly, which is why the letter approach was what they started with, but maybe they will face Angie soon. You just may not know exactly WHO Monkey is, as Angie sure does mix around with a ton of people all the time :P I also agree with you sooo much: non-verbal communication is so important, especially for such delicate situations as Angie's. A blink of an eye, a twitching of the chin, a nervous tapping on one's knee as they speak, those are all 'tells' that cannot be transmitted through a letter. A simple glance, a smile, a genuine emotion being detected in someone's eyes as they look at you - those are precious! A sigh, even. Someone trailing off, unsure what to say in real time... It is easy to write something and edit the crap out of it until it looks somewhat presentable, but it is so extremely hard to say the right thing, at the right time, all the time, to the right person, with the right words, accompanied by all the right non-verbal cues. It's practically impossible!

**"sweetkid45"** Hehe, me neither, don't worry :)! And thanks , about the chapter :)!


	93. My Home Is Right Here

** CHAPTER 93**

_**MY HOME IS RIGHT HERE**_

Right after bribing the mailman to deliver her envelope early that morning, Angie started feeling extremely guilty. She felt like she was betraying Monkey, like she knew she would cause Monkey pain that she might not be deserving of. Telling her side of the story and baring her own feelings about this situation came at a high cost, but the only other alternative would have been to pretend like she had forgiven Monkey and to fall back into the downwards spiral of giving Monkey her love and waiting for them to leave her, again.

A huge wave of regret poured over Angie during PFT that same morning. She had distanced herself from Bryan and the other guys that she usually worked out with, as she needed some time to process what she had just done. What if it had been a colossal mistake? Surely there was no turning back now. The envelope had been delivered right away and all she could do was wait and see how Monkey would act around her, next time they shall meet, if they ever even met again. Their paths did not exactly cross, not just yet anyway, not with Angie still being just a nobody, a Trainee. But things were going to get ugly in the future.

She sat up, collecting her thoughts for a second. Who cared about the push-ups? She was perfectly able to continue with the remaining 46 from her required set. She just needed to tend to her mental endurance instead, at that very moment.

"Hunter, do not disappoint!" Her trainer called out when he noticed her slacking.

"Too late…" She replied in a whisper. No, her words were not in regards to the training at all.

Once training was done everyone had half an hour free time before their morning theory class at the Auditorium. Angie went there right away, skipping the option to go take a shower and skipping what everyone else was craving for at that moment – breakfast.

She found the Auditorium empty and it was refreshing. Being at the Academy was constant stress - people talking, screaming orders at everyone, yelling, training, sweating. It was a non-stop test of one's physical and mental endurance. Being surrounded by nothing and nobody for the next thirty minutes, in the study hall, was priceless relaxation for her. But even then, she spent twenty-nine of those minutes feeling guilty and regretting having been so open and honest in that damn letter.

At some point she came to the conclusion that a world without Monkey was not something she could even imagine, no matter how hard it really was to look at that person now and to not be able to see even a small hint of who they used to be. The person Angie once knew and worshipped was gone. The person she saw now was a complete stranger. Then again, it wasn't like Angela was being herself either, she was a completely different person now, so maybe Monkey felt the same way about her. Maybe Monkey would understand. Maybe Monkey and her were much more alike than Angie would like to admit.

It was perplexing, it was challenging, but Angela Hunter never backed down, in front of a challenge. If Angie had to be completely honest with herself, the idea of looking at Monkey now and giving them the chance to show her who they _really_ are, was not so bad after all. She had once loved Monkey for who they had been. Why couldn't she fall in love with them all over again, if they turned out to be something she liked even now?

For the last minute before her class started, she made a promise to herself to try and be open to a possibility of listening to Martha's advice, from this point on. But, was it too late now? Martha had basically told her to either hold on to the olive's branch that Monkey had extended with their two letters, or let them go for good. Angie had somewhat done the latter, while somewhat, maybe, kind of, possibly wishing she would have chosen the first option.

The more Angie thought about her actions, the more she doubted them, but also, the more she knew she had done what was right, for _her_.

"Class, I am going to steal five minutes of your time before you start this lecture…" Dan spoke when everyone had taken their seats.

He then went on a rave about the upcoming tradition – the _Big-Little Week_ at the Bureau. In summary, it was a week when each Trainee would get assigned to a working FBI Agent of their choice, and would follow them for a week, getting to know them and their field of work. Dan stressed out the importance of choosing their "Big" carefully, as this might lead to a good connection and possibly even an internship within their Unit, later on. He also stressed the Trainees out by telling them that they had to hand in the paper with the name of their Agent of choice, with their signature on it, by the end of that current day. There were no limits whom they can follow – anyone from tech analysts, to lab technicians, to ballistics professionals, to field Agents, to Superiors - _anyone_ really, as long as they signed that paper for them.

Angie walked out of that morning class with two things – a splitting headache and the empty paper, in her hand.

She needed to get it over with, so she came up with the best solution – her next class was with a pushover who wouldn't dare turn her down. She _so_ got this in the bag.

* * *

"Agent Seger?" Angie cornered Clara, the second her class was done.

There were already a few people waiting to talk to her, but Angela wouldn't give them this advantage.

"Yes, Trainee Hunter?" Clara replied calmly, as if she had no idea what was about to happen.

"I uh, I wanted to ask if it would be okay with you if I chose you for Big-Little Week?" Angie then sighed.

This was a great opportunity and she knew she could learn a lot from Clara. Maybe she'd even get to travel with the IRS again. Maybe she'd hit the field again. Then, why didn't it feel good to ask that question? Why did it feel...wrong?

"Trainee Hunter, I am flattered that you would like to follow _me_ and learn about bones and dead people..." Clara sighed as well.

She had always felt a bit weird to tell people what her job entailed. She was far from the anthropologist stereotype, so usually her words were met with disbelief. She looked like the owner of a fashion boutique uptown, rather than someone who dug up bones from hidden gravesites.

Angie half smiled, expecting a positive outcome. She was now well-liked in the Academy and she had already been told by various training Agents that they'd love to have her on their team as an intern. This week was like a taste of what the internship would later on feel like.

Plus - this was Clara. The cat was in the bag, for sure. Done deal. Clara would never deny Angie. Never had before. She wouldn't dare, after all Angie knew about her little kissy-kissy secret that night in Cuba, with the cute local guy. Not that Angie would ever stoop this low and actually use this information, but she would surely be mentioning it as a bribe, if she needed to.

"Aprezzo il tuo desiderio d'imparare da me. Bella domanda, ma la stai facendo alla persona sbagliata, cara mia. Non sono _io_ quella che vorresti seguire. Non sono _io_ quella che necessiti nella tua vita..." Clara decided not to make it awkward for Angie to hear those words in front of everyone, so she made sure no one else would understand how she basically told her that she appreciated the fact that Angie expressed her desire to learn from her and how this was a nice question, but directed to the wrong person. Clara had also added that it wasn't _her_, the one Angie really wanted to follow and it wasn't _her_, the one Angie really needed in her life.

Angie lowered her gaze, suddenly feeling much less confident.

She should have known that Clara was not a traitor. She _did_ know it, actually, which was why Clara was still in her life. It was why Angie had decided to follow _her_. Well, for that reason and also for revenge against someone else. Clara was smart enough to have figured that out, too.

"Grazie comunque..." Angie replied weakly with a 'thanks anyway' in Italian as well, before walking out.

She then decided to ask someone else, just to see how they would react. Would they want her? Luckily for her, the next training was going to be held by that same person, so it would be easy to find him around the Campus.

"DeMo?" She called out, presenting herself to the training field well in advance, saving herself from further possible humiliation in front of others. Clara had been discrete and had spoken in a language surely only Angela knew, but DeMo was something else. He'd bite her head off and laugh at her face, if he deemed her an unsuitable 'Little' for himself.

"Ey Hunter, 'sup?" He greeted her as he always greeted his Trainees.

So far he had established a really good relationship with them, one where he'd feel like someone to go to for advice, yet still someone who'd yell and make them regret life itself, during training. SWAT was a huge deal and he had to make sure every Trainee was prepared for the field. And that entailed a lot of nasty remarks and some over the top yelling. Derek loved it. At first, he had been adamant about this job, but it was the only thing he could legally do at the FBI, after having been a civilian for so long. He was no longer eligible for a field Agent, at least not until _after_ a long series of legal procedures and extra training would take place. And then there was the fact that he had to be formally invited by a Unit, with the Unit Chief personally signing a form, taking full responsibility for Morgan's actions after his return, during his trial period. And then there would be counselling - he hated that.

"Ok, so I would like to follow you for Big-Little Week!" She stated, feeling a bit more confident with him.

Morgan laughed out loud. His reaction surprised her.

"Yeah okay. Follow me...where? You want to be assistant trainer on the field? I can't do that, kid."

"But...no. I uh..." She thought for a second. "I meant, outside of training..."

"Keen on holding my grocery shopping for me after class? Or are you going to drive me home after training? No, wait...you are going to be just great at watering the plants on the second floor and dusting the nasty rug in the living room." His words were making her frown. "Because that's what I do. I teach here and then I go back home, if I can even call that place a home!"

Morgan was not the emotional type. He would never admit those things. To anyone. Especially not to someone he did not know at all. And yet, he felt comfortable enough sharing that with Angela.

"Oh..." Her eyes were set on him, but _his_ eyes were scanning their surroundings. He wouldn't look at her. Not even for a second.

"Well, I am sorry to hear that. And uh, I uh..." She felt uncomfortable, it seemed like her question had upset her training officer.

All she meant was that she'd love to have a great person to teach her for a week. She never really considered the fact that Morgan was not an Agent, but simply a substitute teacher at the Academy. With the cuts, he was probably making way less money than he should. No wonder he sounded so bitter about his life.

"Gotta go..." She said lamely, excusing herself and disappearing from his sight until the other trainees showed up five minutes later and Morgan started his training, at which point he had no time to even _think_ about their awkward little conversation anymore.

* * *

"You're the only person who hasn't yet handed in their signed form." Dan pulled Angie aside during the late evening laboratory session.

"Must have forgotten. I'll hand it in tomorrow." Angie smiled, trying to buy herself some more time.

Being one of the best students at the Academy, there really was no reason why she hadn't yet found someone willing to sign her paper.

"You have until midnight. Tonight!" Dan eyed her up and down, making her squirm a little. "If not, you'll automatically be assigned to your tactical driving instructor. Let's see how you survive a week with him!"

She stopped in place, now looking at him in shock. Anyone, just about _anyone_ would do, but God, not that awful prick who hated her!

She hadn't figured it out yet, but there was something _so_ intimidating about Dan and the way he made her do things whenever he wanted them done.

At this point, Angie decided to just randomly walk up to whoever the heck she sees next and ask them to sign. At least that was her plan now, two hours before midnight.

She had no clue who else she could ask. She liked a lot of her trainers, but they were now all off the table, already assigned to other Trainees. The ones she asked early enough were Clara and Morgan, both of whom had turned her down, for valid reasons.

Plus, if Angie had to be stuck to someone's side for an entire week, she wanted it to matter, she wanted the person to be someone she liked a lot, someone she respected, someone she could look up to and not just a random dude she had seen on Campus a few times. This experience needed to be special - seven days during which Angie could get to know someone, from scratch.

Thinking about it some more, Angie realized how drawn she was to the idea of having the best excuse to meddle in someone's life constantly, to get to know their weird little kinks, the foods they like, the way they hold the pen while writing, the coffee sweetener they used. It sounded exciting. As much as Angie hated letting people get to know the real her, she actually enjoyed getting to know others. She liked the process of someone new, going from a stranger to an acquaintance, to maybe something more to her. She had instant connections only with few people, but that didn't mean she had to stop trying to find more.

Her Big for the week had to be someone amazing, someone who was willing to let her completely into their lives for seven whole days. She grinned, just thinking about it.

And yet, she hardly saw it happening, with the little time she had left until midnight.

* * *

Somehow, after the late class Angie found herself at the blue parking lot. Just less than an hour before midnight, it was pitch dark, she had a hoodie on and a snack in one hand. In her other hand she held one of Rossi's bestsellers - a book she refused to even breathe without.

She intended on having some privacy while she read it for the millionth time, so she went to the parking lot, underestimating how screwed up the lights there would be. It was the blue area, the one reserved for Unit Chiefs, so she had figured that maybe it would be a little better lit, with all the privileges she imagined those bunch of Agents would have. But no, it was almost pitch black outside anyway.

"Oh, mother bbballls!" Someone yelled out in the dark, tripping over Angie's leg as they were approaching the driver's door of their vehicle.

"Weird choice of a profanity to use." Angie pointed out, chuckling a little, watching a grown ass person who was now testing their heart for a heartbeat, to make sure they hadn't passed out from the shock.

"Weird choice of a..." The person trailed off, trying to figure out what Angie was even doing there. "...a place to read?" They added in disbelief.

Angie shrugged, closing her book, but not moving an inch from where she was sitting - on the ground, right next to the driver's door.

"Criminal profiling. Hmm." The person tried not to laugh.

"Yeah. It's what I'm good at." Angie stated with pride.

"So I've heard…" The person clicked a button on their car keys and unlocked their vehicle, but stayed outside and made no advance to open the door or to make Angela move away. The sudden light, coming from inside the car, took away from the intimacy of the moment, the conversation, so they locked the car seconds later and remained in the dark. It somehow felt much more suitable, magical even, in a weird way.

"Trainee Angela Hunter, is it?" The person's tone of voice almost sounded a bit snappy. As if they were mocking her, but not in a rude way.

"Oh, you have to see it to believe it!" Angie kept her head held high while replying to their first statement, about profiling. She was afraid of nobody. She would back down to nobody. And she would admit defeat - never! "And yes, the name is Angela Hunter." She confirmed, a bit snappy herself.

"Just remember there is always place for something new to be learned." The person said, their voice changing now, sounding soft, comforting, very pleasant.

Angie took a moment to assess the situation. This was her best opportunity. Otherwise she'd end up spending the week with '_grumpy driver dude'_, as she had named the tactical driving instructor.

The paper was now in her hand and all it took was to hand it to the person and ask for a signature. It was _that_ easy. She didn't even have to move. That space near the front tire was so comfortable - she had rested her back against the little bump of the car and it felt so good. She didn't want to move.

And yet, she remained quiet and immobile. As confident she had been with Clara and DeMo earlier, she was now a ball of nerves in front of _this_ person – a complete stranger, someone Angela looked at and felt like she knew nothing about. It was scary and that person was more than intimidating, with their high rank within the Bureau.

The other person stood still, as if they were waiting for Angela to continue the conversation, which at that point she was not going to do.

But then the silence became really awkward.

Angie's hand extended and she basically pushed the paper in their hands, without saying a word, without even looking them in the eyes. She was ashamed. There was less than half an hour now left until midnight and she was still short on a weekly mentor. That would suggest that nobody really wanted her and _that_ was what she was ashamed of. It had been an underlying and recurring issue her entire life.

"Oh, Big-Little Week! I love the idea of that week. Amazing experience - you get to spend tons of time with a complete stranger. You coordinate your tasks, work as a team, you basically get a glimpse of their world and, in a way, you become a part of their world, too. I'm so excited about it!" The person said truthfully. Their smile was bright, Angie could see it clearly, no matter how dark it was around them.

"Who is your Big?" The Agent asked, unable to focus on the little letters at the bottom of the paper, as to figure it out themselves.

"Uhm. I mean..." Angie stuttered. She felt incredibly self-conscious at that moment, which was something that never really happened to her.

"No one. For...for now. I uh..." Her shoulders rose a bit and she felt like the clumsy girl in high school who always got chosen last, for any sports activity.

The Agent stood immobile and kept quiet, as if they had no idea how tantalizing this was to Angie. Humiliating, even. They just didn't want to overstep and assume anything – after all, they had no idea where they stood with this girl.

"Uh, I guess it could be uh, you..." Angie finally came out and said it.

"If...if...if you...you'd want me..." She added lamely, stuttering like a star struck teenager at a boy band concert.

It took the Agent a whole bunch of long, painfully quiet seconds, to reply.

"I could never imagine a better Little me!" They finally said while signing the paper against the window of their car.

There was no hesitation at all, whether the Agent wanted to accept. They just needed a few seconds to wrap their head around everything that was happening, to analyze the situation, to figure out if this was really happening, if this would benefit the young girl, standing in front of them.

"Thanks...Agent...Emily Prentiss, is that right?" Angie asked for a confirmation to what she already knew, as she stood up and retrieved her signed document from this person's hands.

She wanted to stand tall when accepting it. She wanted to level with the Agent, literally and maybe a bit figuratively too.

"Yes, the name is Emily Prentiss - the person you would be following around for a week." Emily nodded. She spoke with authority, quite like Dan. She also eyed Angie up and down one more time, just to make her blood freeze over.

"It's starting to rain. Come on, I'll drive you home." Emily said instinctively, as if she felt the need to protect that girl.

"It's alright. I'm good…" Angie trailed off for a second as she looked Emily dead in the eyes in a chillingly curious manner and then she smiled weakly.

"My home is right here." Angie kept her eyes on the person in front of her as she added the ending to her previous statement.

For some reason her heart was now racing. It was a mixture of a pleasant warm feeling and something extremely bothersome, but Angie found herself enjoying this. It was good. Or at the very least, it was not a bad thing.

Emily took a moment to study Angie's face. It was calm and she seemed somewhat happy about her statement, that home was right there. It made Emily smile with a mixture of pain, along with that hint of happiness.

As she unlocked her car one more time, its lights came up again, illuminating more of her face. Angie saw her smile. And now that she was standing up, she also saw something else…

"You look upset." Angie pointed out softly, as to not come across too direct, or rude.

"Yes. I had a sudden downpour of emotional tears just earlier." Weirdly, Emily had no problem sharing that piece of information, because if it was anyone from her team to have asked, she'd deny, deny, deny.

There was a small mascara smudge under one of her eyes and Angie could still see wetness, like this grown ass woman had just wiped hot tears on the way to her car. Her pupils were a bit red, too.

"I'm sorry…" Angie whispered, her eyes darting to the ground, checking out Emily's shoes, because seeing her face like _this_ was making her upset, too.

"It's not _your_ fault." Emily shrugged, whispering her reply as well.

Emily has had it rough lately and more things were coming up, making her even more upset, on a daily basis. It was pretty much a constant state for Emily Prentiss – if she wasn't upset about Richard, she'd be worried about JJ or stressing out over whatever new obstacle the Bureau was currently throwing at her and her entire team.

"I will see you here tomorrow at nine. Breakfast is on me." Emily announced and, as if she knew how much Angie hated it when people paid for her, she added. "Objection overruled!"

Angie then nodded and without any further communication, started walking towards her dorm room. She now had fifteen minutes to upload the sheet and she needed her new tablet for that task – the one Monkey had bought for her, the same Monkey whom Angie had just tried to cut off her life completely this morning until that decision of hers had backfired, just hours later, showering her with those confusing feelings of guilt and regret.

"Oh, God…what did I just get myself into?" Emily sighed, sitting in her car for way over thirty minutes, fighting back a new downpour of tears, before she finally drove back home.

"Ughh, man, what did I just get myself into?" Angie murmured to herself, uploading the file at 23:59.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"Ducksdragonfly" **You'll be reading more inner thoughts and learning more about Angie from this point on. Big-Little Week allows her to be more herself and less the robot Trainee that she's required to be at the Academy. Yup, she was brave to send that letter, but it is tearing her apart now, as she never meant to hurt Monkey, not even after Monkey had hurt her twice in life. And yes, LOTS of work in store for Angie-Monkey! In a way, she tried to listen to her therapist, but that backfired lol. So now she needs to do what she knew was best for her all along - approach Monkey and try to look at them and see a completely new person instead. Angie knows it's hard to build a relationship with someone, from scratch, but maybe in the long run it would be worth it. You'll be seeing what happens with that plan of hers :)!

**"rmpcmfan"** Good job, Detective :)! Monkey is indeed part of the FBI. As for their identity, you shall see what happens next and figure it out on your own :P! Thanks about the letter! I poured it down into writing spontaneously, but then re-read it a million times, to make sure every emotion was conveyed the way I wanted it to, plus, I needed it to be a "mess", but not illegible lol! Yup, Angie is the ultimate goal-crusher, honestly. She might have hurdles along the way though, it's normal. Ufffff, Monkey's heart BROKE when they read that Angie wanted them to stay away! It was their worst fear! But Monkey also knew that if s/he approached Angie face-to-face with this issue they have, Angie was going to shut her/him down IMMEDIATELY! Angie is a spiteful lil' thug hahaha, Monkey is well aware that direct approach is NOT the way. Also, Angie has a lot of unresolved issues (about Monkey) and Monkey knows how dangerous it would be (to Angie's psyche) if s/he just came out and asked for an honest conversation! That's why Martha, being a professional, threaded SO carefully with Angie - she saw the girl is in denial and in pain, so she's SLOWLY building a relationship, trust, so that maybe one day Angie would be comfortable to speak about the REAL issue. Monkey's approach would be the same *wink*. PS: Angie most definitely did NOT say a "NO", but she kind of said a "MAYBE, BUT NOT NOW" to Monkey, with the letter. She said she wanted a face-to-face, but she knows she would have freaked out if it happened. The line "Seeing you and not seeing the person you used to be..." is aimed at that, the fact that Monkey is a compleeeeetely different person now, one that Angie does not even know. A stranger! Angie needs to build a new relationship with Monkey, from scratch, if Monkey ever stands a chance at being back in Angie's life.

**"sweetkid45"** LOL yeah "Monkey" was a spontaneous decision of a nickname. It kind of happened. No, it isn't "girlfriend" type of a situation between Monkey and Angie, not at all hehehe! Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed reading the chapter :)


	94. Things, People, Memories

** CHAPTER 94**

_**THINGS. PEOPLE. MEMORIES.**_

"Good morning, Miss Prentiss." Angie greeted with a faint smile.

"Miss? Makes me sound so old...and single." Emily laughed genuinely, greeting the girl back with an awkward wave of her hand.

"Sorry, _Agent_ Prentiss." Angie corrected herself.

It wasn't like Emily had specified a different way she'd like to be called anyway.

"You're early." Emily pointed out after checking the time.

"So are you. Plus, better early than never."

"Yes, I am. Although, lately I've been living under the expression of 'better _late_ than never'. But I like your version of it, too." Emily smiled and motioned for Angela to get in her car.

It was barely minutes after half past eight on a Monday morning and they weren't supposed to meet until nine. Both of them were there quite early. Maybe both of them had their own reasons to be impatient for Big-Little Week to start?

"Very random, and quite frankly – rather disappointing choice of a vehicle, you know, for a big bad FBI Agent." Angie pointed out casually.

With a smile like hers, no matter what she said, it would be hard for it to come off rude. It was purely an observation.

"I've never been into cars. This was a good deal and I bought it. I'm quite satisfied with my choice - it works fine, it takes me to work and it is safe."

"Not so sure about the safety features. And there's no built in option for a baby seat." Angie pointed out smartly, reminding Emily of Reid with her random nerdy observation.

"Having a baby is not really implemented into my foreseeable future. Or ever, actually." Emily shot a quick glance at Angela as she drove towards the exit of the government property.

"That's too bad." Angie bit her bottom lip before uttering her next words. "Emily Prentiss seems like she'd be amazing mother material."

Emily froze for a second. Those words, coming from the mouth of such an innocent young girl, pierced right through her heart.

"BARRIER!" Angie called out and Emily hit the brakes immediately, causing both of them to jump off their seats abruptly.

"Sorry about that." Emily excused herself lamely.

It wasn't _her_ fault that she was unable to control her emotions and she missed out on the Stop sign before the security control. She was about to fly through the barrier, hadn't Angie warned her.

"It's fine. I'm an adrenaline junkie." Angie smirked and handed her AT badge to the security guys, for check out, after Emily did the same.

"Is that why you haven't yet questioned why we are leaving the premises?" Emily said as she drove off in a direction Angie was not familiar with.

Then again, Angie only knew what was on the inside of those property lines. And not even all of it. So, everything outside those gates was new and exciting to her.

"Are you kidding me? I'm a Trainee with the green light to go anywhere I'm being taken. And I don't even have to drive myself! This is great!" She said enthusiastically, making Emily laugh.

Aside from the laughter, Emily was also profiling the crap out of that poor girl. So far all she had was that Angela was extremely complicated, had major trust issues and was a daredevil at heart. Also, someone who could take care of themselves, if she so easily trusted Emily to drive her wherever she pleased.

"Oh, I love Mackers!" Angie said happily as they soon stopped at the parking lot of a shopping mall, right in front of a fast food restaurant.

Emily noted the weird choice of words on Angela's part, but said nothing about it. Mackers, to Emily's knowledge, was how Australian people called McDonalds. And it rolled off Angie's tongue a bit too easily for it to have been an intentional pun.

"Oh no. I wouldn't bring your expectations up by promising you breakfast, only to then bring you to McDonalds!" Emily stated, grabbing her bag and getting out of the car.

They navigated through the hallways of the shopping center and at some point Emily held a door open for Angie.

"Wow..." Angie gasped, walking in.

The sign outside, saying '_Pâtisserie Française'_, had initially looked tacky in Angie's eyes, like it would be yet another failed American attempt of a French pastry shop.

Oh, was she wrong!

"Exquisite!" Angie whispered in French as she took a few more steps further in.

Not many people were there and that made it feel a bit more cozy, alluring, private. Mysterious even.

The lights were dim, it felt like an evening bar, with its dark walls and interior design. And yet, the display at the bar had the most diverse and colorful selection of cakes, pastry and breakfast menu items - all authentic French recipes.

"Cette pâtisserie est incroyable!" Angie kept on muttering quietly, unaware of the switch of language of choice. It came natural to her to say that this pastry shop was incredible, in French, if the place was French too.

"Je suis content que tu aimes ça." Emily replied, in perfect French as well. She really was happy that Angela loved the place she had chosen.

It was when Angie heard her speak that she realized they were not speaking English anymore.

"Emily Prentiss speaks French?"

"Emily Prentiss _loves_ French." She replied, giving Angie the chance to pick a table for them.

"I like that one over there." She pointed to a table for two, on the other side of the bar, secluded, and right next to a small decorative fountain.

Emily had to bite her lip to prevent herself from profiling that, too. But then she couldn't help it. Her final judgment was that Angela wanted privacy, so she chose the only table for two, in the whole bar. As if it having only two chairs would mean that nobody could possibly interrupt their breakfast, or interfere with their conversation. Then there was the fact that it was secluded, it almost didn't seem to be part of that bar. That gave it a sense of anonymity - if it were a person it wouldn't have a name. Strange that Angela liked that. Last, but not least...

"Angela Hunter likes fountains?" Emily only commented on _that_ particular mental assumption of hers, leaving the rest of it unspoken.

"Yeah. Always have. Just as long as I don't have to pee at that moment, but otherwise I could spend hours by a good fountain, listening to the water fall down. With a good book, naturally."

"Yeah. Same." Emily said dreamily, reminiscing of a recent time when she had thrown herself an improvised picnic by a fountain, but trying to push away the memory of what that moment had been the start of.

"What is the last book Angela Hunter has read?" Emily continued, in hopes of keeping the small talk going.

Angela had her short moments when she'd be there and she'd look at Emily, but mentally she would be at a completely different place at the same time. Emily could sense that. Why? Because she was the exact same way.

"Rossi's! It's always going to be Rossi's book. Either book of his. I adore him!" Angie replied honestly, with genuine enthusiasm oozing from her voice.

Recently, she had been reading three books contemporarily, for her current classes, but the first book to grab in the morning and the last book to touch at night would always be signed by the same author - David Rossi.

"He spoke about you, you know?" Emily said vaguely.

"He did!?" Angela nearly fell off her seat. "David Rossi knows my name? _The_ David Rossi knows my name? Yaikes!"

Emily could not stop laughing at this girl's random outbursts and she found the way she squealed quite cute. She almost sounded like a drunk Garcia while looking at cat memes online, or a sugar-high Reid after seeing a mouse. He hated mice, they always made him squeal.

"What did he say? What did he sayyy?" Angie suddenly seemed like an eager teenager.

It was comforting to know that she had kept a piece of her young self intact, even after choosing such a dark and lonely path, as the one she'd soon be walking down, in the shoes of an FBI Agent.

"Don't really remember..." Emily said tantalizingly, intending to get another spontaneous and cute reaction from Angie.

However, obtaining nothing but a frown from that poor girl, Emily could not help but cave in.

"Fine. He said something along the lines of you being one of the most promising future profilers he has ever seen in the Academy. You really did a trick on him during that class. He said you got the profile right, down to the color of the Unsub's car."

"Oh that was easy. Judging by the photos of his victims, I profiled him as violent and obnoxious, it would only be fitting to drive a car with an aggressive color, such as bright red. Actually, there's a whole chapter in one of Rossi's books, speaking about the cars of killers and the importance of what one would find inside, as it does help build the profile, especially if the car is being used during the crime. So, really, it was because of Sir Rossi that I was able to come up with this detail." Angie spoke in a mix of nerdiness and modesty.

Then Angie finally picked up the menu and allowed her eyes the indulgence of all the colorful photos of pastries and yummy things. She had always been a sucker for sweet treats.

"Treat yourself. Anything you want." Emily felt the need to remind her that it would be on her.

"Just an espresso." Angie shrugged, placing the menu back on the table.

Emily had caught the moment when Angie's eyes had drifted from the delicious photos on the left side of the menu, to the prices on the right side. And she had also seen the small wince that Angie had tried to hide when she realized this place was not only cool and authentically French, but also pricy as Hell.

"_So_ Italian!" Emily laughed at the girl's choice of a drink, out of all the cute girly drinks on the menu.

"Ugh. When you say it like that, I'd rather order just about anything else _but_ that." Angie then chose the next cheapest coffee-induced drink on the menu.

"Not a fan of Italy?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

"Not at all. Lots of crap has happened in Italy. Also, I hate people who talk loudly and that is basically _everyone_ in Italy. So, I'm steering away from that place."

"Ha..." Emily trailed off for a long moment, teleporting herself to the times when, years ago, she had spent months in Italy, undercover. With _him_...the man who broke her.

"Same..." Emily added after a few seconds, shaking the images off her head. "Same..." She pointed out one more time, testing out a weird theory of hers that if she openly admitted to it enough times, then it would hurt less. That theory flanked.

"You are sad..." Angie pointed out very bluntly.

"Maybe...just a little." In any other situation, Emily Prentiss would have denied. She'd lie. She'd smile and force herself to believe she was ok. She'd deceive her own self, in order to look authentically fine to everyone else.

But not with Angela.

For some reason, Emily did not feel the pressure to lie, to pretend, when she was around that girl.

"Why? What's making you upset?"

"Things. People. Memories. All sorts of wonderful grown up stuff."

"Oh. Right. You're one of those people who see me and treat me as a child, just because I'm young. You know, like everyone else does." Angie pouted. She was starting to like this Emily Prentiss person, whoever the heck she might turn out to be, but she wouldn't put up with being treated like an idiot, like a child.

Her entire life she had been judged because of her age. Granted, she had started doing grown up things and acting grown up from an early age, but it still sucked to have people point out the age difference all the time.

"No. Not really. I mean, you must have your own skeletons in the closet. I didn't mean that just by being older than you it automatically means my problems are bigger or more important. It just came out wrong." Emily pointed out and she sounded genuine about it.

"Good. Because I _do_ have skeletons in my closet. And I'd hate to have someone undermine all the pain I've been through, despite my age." Angela had another quality to her - she was brutally honest. Emily appreciated that. Somehow it felt like she almost knew where she stood with Angela. Almost...

"In the past?" Angela's question came out of nowhere.

"Those things, people and memories that upset you - are they in the past?" She elaborated.

"Mmh, yeah. But not completely. Some are still present in my life. Guess in a way they always will be." Emily replied to the best of her abilities. If she had to be honest, she didn't have a better answer than that. She was confused about a bunch of things at that very moment.

"You smiled! That's an indication that at least one of those things, people or memories once made you happy."

"Yup, Rossi was right - you're one Hell of a profiler."

"_Future_ profiler!" Angie corrected her humbly.

"So, what is it that you would like to learn from me, Angela Hunter?" Emily changed the topic. Clever move. The only problem was that she was severely underestimating the intelligence of her conversation partner.

"I'd love to learn how to put things, people and memories that upset me, behind me." Angie threw that ball right back into Emily's court.

"I'm afraid I don't have the answer to that. Not even for myself." Emily frowned.

They were at a beautiful place and she felt...sad. Melancholic. Something inside of her would just not let her enjoy a breakfast with such a smart young girl like Angie.

"It's okay. We have a week to figure it out." Angie then offered a smile. And more than that - she offered a promise to stand by Emily's side while she tried to figure her shit out. And that was _so_ bittersweet to Emily.

"Bonjour! May I take your order?" A waiter had been standing close, waiting for a moment to jump in without interrupting what seemed to him like a very personal and emotional moment between the two ladies.

Emily ordered something in French and Angie was nearly drooling at the sound of its name. It was a cake that was on her top three most favorite desserts of all times, in her whole entire life. And then there was also a coffee with cream and sprinkles and beautiful yummy decorations.

The waiter then turned to Angie who was just about to open her mouth and order a lame cheap coffee, when Emily spoke up.

"She'll have the same." Emily stated and Angie did not dare defy that.

"Merci beaucoup." Angie only spoke when the waiter was gone.

Emily noticed that. It almost felt like Angela didn't want _anyone_ to be around them and that was the route of some deep underlining issues.

"De rien." Emily replied with the equivalent of a 'thank you' in French.

"It was not even on the menu, though..." Angie pointed out. She had read the menu twice and she remembered the name and photo of each pastry, up to the very last detail. This cake was _not_ on the menu!

"It's their Special. They don't always have it and if they do - it's never on the menu anyway." Emily informed her, fiddling her car keys in her hand.

Angie took her time to profile Emily, too. The woman seemed insecure, which was weird for someone with her status. She also seemed sad. Constantly. Not only that morning, but each time Angela had seen her around. Like there was this veil of fake smiles and happiness that she would wear on her head, but underneath it all, there was the real Emily Prentiss. And she seemed broken.

"You are profiling me, aren't you? Let's hear it." Emily challenged her.

"No. You're not ready to be profiled. Not just yet." Angie's reply confused her.

Emily did not understand those words, but maybe in the future she would. Maybe one day she'd look back at this conversation and laugh her ass off, finally understanding the arrogance, the nerve this girl had, to speak this way.

"I think I might be able to handle hearing _my_ profile, though." Angie continued, unsure if her statement was actually correct. She just wanted to sound tough, like she could handle anything that came her way.

"Angela Hunter, you are nowhere near ready to hear all the screwed up reasons why you feel the way you feel." And there it was - Emily Prentiss, the authoritarian figure, speaking her truth in a blunt manner, mirroring the way Angela had dared speak to her just earlier.

The honesty was refreshing. Angie was used to - and tired of people belittling her, because of her age. Some people used that annoying baby voice when talking to her, as if she was dumb enough to not be able to understand their words if they spoke to her normally. Others blatantly lied to her face, figuring she would be an idiot, because she was young.

But not this Emily Prentiss woman. Each time Angela Hunter had interacted with Emily Prentiss, that woman had been nothing but blatantly honest and straight-forward with her. It felt great! She always made Angie feel important - not just a Trainee, out of a bunch of people, but like someone who mattered, someone with value.

"Fine then. Let's talk about cakes and pastry. J'aime la pâtisserie française!" It took Angela a second to switch to a lighter mood and to a foreign language, stating her love and appreciation for _French_ pastry, in specific.

One second she was all serious, asking to hear her profile and then she was a bubbly girl, discussing the most random things. Not even actors could switch between moods so quickly and look so convincing.

"I guess I've recently acquired some taste in fine French…sweet things, too..." Emily knew that she should not finish that thought. And yet she did.

"_Damn fine_, alright..." Emily added, licking her bottom lip.

A certain memory invaded her mind and it just would not leave.

A smile.

A person.

His lips.

Pastry...or rather, patisserie.

The man with the name of a pastry shop…

How could she ever forget such a man?

"I want to know how to read people." Angie changed the topic one more time.

All her life, she had been a bubbly girl, one that was able to start a conversation with just about anyone. She'd speak for hours, on different topics, and she'd be great at it.

And yet, she was finding it kind of hard to keep up a normal conversation with this woman. It felt awkward and she took her time, choosing her words carefully. It felt like there was a huge load of tension on both of their shoulders and they were both threading carefully, making sure they would say the right thing.

"Why? I doubt it would be in order to deceive them. You don't seem the type." Emily finally let go of the car keys, now placing her hand on her knee, making space for their order at the table, as the waiter had just brought everything on a tray.

"I want to be able to choose the right people to surround myself with. You know, not the ones that would end up hurting me." Angie felt a bit self-conscious, but otherwise she didn't mind being open and honest.

"They always end up hurting me..." She added, breaking Emily's heart with those words.

"You don't deserve to suffer because of someone else's poor choices..." Emily pointed out. Her voice was weak. Her eyes did not fall on Angela herself, but rather on the beautiful piece of art that the slice of cake in front of her was.

"No, I don't..." Angie was the more courageous one. Through their last few words, she had her eyes fixated on Emily's face. She needed to be heard. She needed to know that someone understood her pain. And there was no one better than the profiler Emily Prentiss.

"Angela..." Emily's hand quickly traveled back on top of the table, swiftly making its way to where Angie had rested her hand, intending to give her some sort of comfort.

At the mere touch of their fingers, Angie shifted away.

She hated it when people touched her. And Emily wouldn't hold that against her, not after so many years of experience with Reid who also did not appreciate human contact as much as an average person should.

"I'm sorry..." Emily offered an apology, but Angela shrugged it off.

"It's fine. I'm weird. I don't let people in."

"Why?"

"Because they always hurt me in the end. They always leave…"

"Oh..." Emily exclaimed, tying that statement back to Angie's desire to learn how to read people.

"Well, I'm good at reading people. God, I'm terrible at interacting with them and not hurting them, or ultimately leaving, but I am good at _reading_ them. So, how about we spend this week, trying to come up with ways of figuring out which people are good and which ones are bad. Huh? Sounds good? It would be my pleasure to try and help you with that."

"Mhh, yeah. Sounds good. But then, you see, I'm really good at not hurting people, but I'm terrible at judging them. Apparently. So, how about I teach you how to be good to people? How to not hurt them? How to not leave them broken? How to stay, instead of leave? And you'll teach me how to choose the right people in my life, in return?"

Emily thought for a second. She had hurt so many people in her life. The latest victim of hers was JJ and Emily was desperate to find a way to be herself, without breaking people in the process.

"Sounds like a plan." Emily nodded and took a sip of her coffee.

It was way too sweet for her taste, but she had ordered it the way she thought Angela might like it, so then she could casually tell the waiter to double her order before Angie would come up with a lame objection and go ahead and order the cheapest thing on the menu, which was exactly what Emily had profiled Angela would do and exactly what Angela was about to do when she had opened her mouth to place her order.

"Ohh, yummy!" Angie murmured to herself, finally putting her fork to good use. That cake was better than anything she had ever tasted.

"I'm glad you like it." Emily then tasted it herself and she was amazed. Each time she had been there, that cake had tasted great, but this time there was something about it that made it exceptional. Maybe it was the company?

"Thank you for letting me be an annoying shadow to you for the next seven days of your life, Emily Prentiss." Angie said politely. "And thank you for the wonderful breakfast."

"Thank _you_ for wanting to spend this much time with an old lady and all of her issues." Emily's lips were pursed, as if she felt obliged to talk herself down, as if she didn't believe she deserved anything better than that.

Angela profiled that about her, as well. The number one cause for low self-confidence was troubled childhood. Someone like that would typically be extremely critical of themselves; would downplay or ignore their positive qualities; would judge themselves to be inferior to others; would use negative words to describe themselves and among the long list of other things – they also would not believe a person who compliments them. So Angie decided to go against her instinct to compliment Emily with something, to say something positive about her instead. To most normal people this would sound like a great thing to do, but not to Angie, not after all those psychology books she had read through the years. She knew this was a delicate issue that had to be threaded with lightly. And she genuinely wanted to help make Emily see the beauty of being herself. But that would take time. Luckily, they had an entire week ahead of them.

Unluckily, Angie's decision not to compliment only lasted a second until she opened her mouth and the truth came out.

"You're not old! You look great and I bet you are hardcore cool on the field. I've already heard that you are an amazing Unit Chief. People love you! It's a privilege to be your Little, for as long as it shall last."

"Ah, keep complimenting me like that and I might find it hard to let go of you when this week is done." Emily smirked.

Good, the compliment had been received and appreciated. Maybe Angie's charm was already working on Emily. Angie was always very confident in herself, at least that was what she let people see, so she could only hope that in seven days Emily Prentiss would be hardcore bad ass and savage when it came to protecting how people perceive her, but most importantly – confident in herself and liking who she really was.

"You never really _have_ to let go of the people you want in your life. If you love them, you'll always find a way to keep them." Angie said, in regards to Emily's last reply.

Emily gulped guiltily, remembering bits and instances of her life, both undercover and as herself, when she had literally been forced to let go of people that she loved. Luckily for her, most of them had forgiven her later on. Most, but not all.

"I'm afraid that's not how the real world works, Angela Hunter." Emily took another sip of coffee and somehow the car keys ended up in her hand once again. Was she really _this_ nervous, the entire time? Did she really need to constantly squeeze something in her hand, to calm herself down during a seemingly calm and casual breakfast?

"Well then who said we have to live in the real world?" Angie smirked.

Everybody who knew her well enough, knew that she was an actress. She loved playing different roles and the beauty of playing roles was that one could choose which role to play, then jump into the skin of their chosen character and develop everything about them from scratch – the way they walk and talk, the clothes they wear, how their voice sounded…everything really. Maybe that was why kids are known to have such a vivid imagination – they never really stop playing characters, so they must have such a huge experience with creating roles and playing out a variety of scenes.

And to Angela this was magic. It was a blessing. It was a temporary ticket out of the real life, a way for her to be anyone she wanted and to feel _any_ way she wanted to feel, without judgment and without regrets. If it took playing a role, to make herself feel better about life sometimes, then be it – Angela would always be up for it.

Who knows? Maybe Emily Prentiss would enjoy Angie's little secret get-away game too?

"You're right." Emily spoke, feeling quite adventurous herself. "We have seven days to live in whatever world we want to. Let's make the most of it!"

Throughout the entire breakfast, Emily never really stopped profiling the girl in front of her. She had so many questions about her and she wanted to know all the answers. But she also knew that the situation she was in was very delicate – this girl required a certain type of attention, a certain type of a way to be handled. And Emily had already figured out exactly what role she had to play, when it came to her and Angela. She knew exactly how to speak to the girl and exactly what to say, but most importantly – what needed to remain unspoken! Angela clearly needed time before she would be comfortable enough to share more about herself and Emily would not push her. She would sit by her side and be the person Angela needed her to be, for as long as needed.

"I like the sound of that." Angie smiled.

Usually, people would tell her she was being weird to think that she could change the way things around her were. But she knew that it all started with how you _look_ at those things. How you perceive them. How you let them shape your life.

"I believe we have a deal, Angela Hunter." Emily pointed out.

"Oh, we definitely have a deal, Emily Prentiss." Angie said cheekily.

And then there it was - another smile appeared on Emily's face. This one, however, was a little less forced. A little more spontaneous. A whole lot more genuine.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"sweetkid45" **A whole bunch of future chapters are about Emily and company. She's now spending the entire week with Angela, so who knows what cray mess they would get themselves into? LOL :)!

**"rmpcmfan"** Yup, they can both profit from each other's knowledge and experience! LOL "Angie is a sponge" made me laugh, it was cute! Oh you mean you felt bad that Angie regretted sending the letter? It was what's right for HER, but her concern immediately after was that it would hurt Monkey and this is not something she wants to do. She's a Devil, but she hates hurting the people she loves, even if she has been hurt and betrayed by them! "Fate works in mysterious ways" - both Angela and Emily are about to figure this out in their own way *wink*.

**"****Ducksdragonfly"** Hehe, it's super cool to read what people think so far, knowing the complicity of the situation, underneath the words! I can't confirm/deny anything, because I'd risk major spoilers! All I can say - it's too early to figure it out AND also to rule people out! Give a few more chapters a read and try again :) BTW I adore Rossi as well! JJ and Rossi are the two profilers I use the most so far, apart from my main Emily. I LOVED how on the show Rossi was like a fatherly figure to Emily and everyone else, really. Such an amazing man! Also, there will be more hurdles along the way, for Angie. She's been so focused so far, but what if something happens and shakes her down majorly? People are focused and productive when they have an objective, an aim...and Angie has a very specific one! We'll see how that plays out for her *wink*.

**"zhangxinna"** Hiiii :)! I'm so happy to hear you're still here and enjoying my pretty little mess of a creation hehehe :P! Don't ever feel pressured to put effort into comments, just blurt out whatever is on your mind, just like Angie did with the letter she sent Monkey *wink*! It's always very nice to hear back from people who read the story that I put so much time and effort in :)! Thank you for reviewing :)! Now to quickly address all your questions: Yup, I wanted special attention to Angie, Emily and Richard, before this new Angie-Monkey storyline started, as it will go on for a while. As for Monkey - s/he is right underneath everyone's nose haha *wink*. One day when you learn who s/he was from the beginning, you'll read older chapters and find SO MUCH hidden meaning behind their words to multiple characters! For now you're supposed to figure out who Monkey is, on your own. I won't spoil, confirm or deny anything :P ! Also, very soon you WILL see what happened with the letter that JJ supposedly still has in her possession and you will learn what happened between her and Will, but not before more truths about that fallout come to play (again, soon!). ROFLMAO Angie and Emily really ARE alike, in some ways! Switching wardrobes? Hmmm, how about accidental twinning? *SMIRK* I think you'll be very happy to read a little scene I've already written (for a future chapter). Bows may also come to play :P! As for pranking people...Angie is the master...there might be something that gets planned later in the story hehe! No, Morgan never told the BAU about being "back". He has his reasons to hide that, plus it is easy as he only ever goes to the Academy Campus, not the main building, and only like two times a week for a couple of hours. So it's easy to avoid the BAU around the building and the parking lots, too. I have bigger plans for Derek, but I need him on the sidelines for a little bit, as I focus on what's going on with Angela now. And I still have the Richard situation to handle, don't I? *Wink* I remember what I've promised you about Remily...Emchard (we need a ship name!). Please keep in touch, you're so sweet always and it's such a fun way to talk to people in quarantine lol, because everything I do is online now and it's a bit robotic lololol! Plus, my reviewers are so awesome, so you guys feel like friends :)!


	95. Nobody Really Wanted Me

** CHAPTER 95**

_**NOBODY REALLY WANTED ME...**_

Angie rolled down the window a bit as Emily drove in yet another direction that she was not familiar with.

"Sorry. I would have switched the AC on, but we are close already." Emily kept her eyes on the road this time.

Angie just smiled, her eyes curiously scanning everything around them.

"Not quite like Europe now, is it?" Emily pointed out as they drove.

"Not even close." Angie replied, noticing so many differences. This felt like a different world now.

Emily's phone was buzzing the entire time and Angie shot a glance at the screen, unintentionally, reading the name Tara on top of a very colorful and confusing photo in which a very pleasantly buzzed Emily Prentiss was hugging a slightly more drunk JJ who, in turn, had one hand around Tara's neck and then one leg up in the air, being held from behind by the colorful vision that Garcia was. All four girls were wearing identical pink bathrobes.

"Your friend might get worried." Angie pointed out after the third call got ignored by Emily.

"Oh, I had asked her to update me on something. It's about work. She can e-mail it to me."

"But she's calling…"

"She should know better than to call me for work on the 6th of the month."

"Why? Don't you work on the 6th? It's Monday…" Angie was now confused.

"Not until twelve." Emily did not elaborate on that, leaving Angie even more confused.

A few minutes later she pulled up in front of something that looked like a housing complex. She dropped her name at the entrance and had a visitor badge with her name on it, already waiting for her. After requesting one for Angie as well, they were finally walking down a hallway.

Angie hadn't noticed the name of this place. She had been busy thinking about those cute pink bathrobes that she had seen on the photo earlier.

"Miss Prentiss!" An elderly woman greeted.

"Mrs. Vallard, it is nice to see you again." Emily held her hand out to greet her formally.

"This is, uh…" Emily continued, but found it hard to put into words what Angela was to her. Not a colleague. Not a student. Not a friend. What the heck was she to Emily?

"I'm Angela Hunter, let's say, a new friend of Emily's." Angie also extended her hand to meet the woman, yet she chose to be vague about where she knew Emily from. This seemed like a personal errand for Emily and it didn't seem like she was there in her official capacity of an FBI Agent. So, maybe she never told this woman what her job really was. Angie was good at keeping secrets, even if they weren't her own.

"Nice to meet you, young girl. I have a feeling they would love having you here." The woman said while shaking Angie's hand.

"They?" Angie questioned, but all she received in reply was a push on the shoulder, urging her to walk towards a big door that led to the bigger wing of the building.

"Emmieeeeeee!" A whole bunch of voices screamed with joy, as soon as Emily walked in what looked like a huge living room.

Angela walked in right after her and found herself immediately tripping over a toy car.

"God, I hate cars!" She mumbled to herself, but then her face was filled with joy and content.

"Kiddos!" She said happily, clapping her hands and walking further in.

By this point Emily was already halfway into the room, navigating perfectly well between toys and knocked over objects on the floor. A few kids were now dragging themselves behind Emily, with one of them literally hanging on her leg, gripping tight so that she wouldn't fall off.

This looked like a jungle. It was loud and messy and colorful. It would surely be a bit too much for a normal person to handle. But not to Angie. There was nothing normal about her.

"You have pretty hair!" A girl who looked at the age of about seven, was now holding a strand of Angie's long hair, caressing it gently.

"And smile!" Another kid, younger boy, pointed out.

"Do you want to play with us?" Another kid asked.

"Do I _want_ to?" Angie smiled. "We _have_ to play together! I'm really good at hide and seek!" She added, chuckling lightly, but with a bit less of a smile than before. She wasn't just _good_ at hide and seek. She was the master of that game! If she didn't want someone to find her, she'd assume a completely different identity and she'd believe in it like her life depended on it. One could look at her and still not see the person they were looking for - that's how good she was at hide and seek.

Emily caught that. She looked at Angela, now surrounded by kids, and the girl looked in her element.

"Want to draw with us instead?" The girl who was now obsessed with Angie's hair, asked as she was already dragging Angie to a corner with tables and little chairs.

"Draw? Oh yes, we should draw. I'm really bad at it, you will definitely enjoy my struggles." Angela laughed. Arts were far from her forte.

She sat down and a minute later was covered by at least seventeen different mixtures of paint colors.

Completely lost in her attempts to draw a princess, she forgot all about Emily. She didn't care why they were there. She wasn't one to ask many questions, occasionally. Other times she would want to know everything about everyone. It all depended on the mood and somewhat on the topic, too.

Meanwhile, Emily had been dragged to a different corner where she was now making noises, pushing a big toy truck down an imaginary road, in the middle of a fierce competition with another girl and two boys.

Angie noticed when Mrs. Vallard came up to Emily and even through the noise, she could make out some of the conversation. What she couldn't overhear, she read on their lips.

"Thank you so much for the continuous support, Miss Prentiss."

"It's my pleasure." Emily said with yet another one of her sad smiles.

"A lot of people donate and, don't get me wrong, we are very grateful for that. But not many come around here. The kids need human contact. They need to feel loved. They need to play and to meet good people. They don't care about the money and the material things."

Emily remained quiet and Angela could tell that she was mentally thinking of something.

"The kids have circled the 6th day of each month on the calendar in the dining hall. They can't wait to see you here. The younger ones keep asking me daily, how many days until they play with Emmie again."

"So sweet of them." Emily replied shortly. She didn't want to move her face a lot because tears were already threatening to fall and every blink could set them in motion.

"Thank you for the generous amount this month. We are now finally able to take them on a field trip somewhere. The elder ones are curious to see a few things around the city. We now can afford that and we have booked a small restaurant for lunch. They wanted pizza."

"You are welcome." Once again, Emily was being more quiet than usual.

"And this girl you brought along – she's really good with kids. Look at them, they already adore her. She's so nice and gentle. I love seeing them happy." Mrs. Vallard added. She had been keeping an eye out for Angie, as she was someone unfamiliar, but she had realized how gentle the girl was with all the kids, so it helped her relax a bit. She did not trust new people with the kids, not until she was sure they were good people who treated the kids nicely.

"Yeah, she has a good heart, that girl…" Emily's eyes laid on Angela, who was now rolling on the floor with a couple of other kids.

She had given up on trying to draw. Her picture of a princess looked like an accurate representation of the Grinch. Plus, the kids have moved on from drawing to something more active. Angie was showing them an exercise from the Academy, one she loved so much. They started laying on their back, then rolled around twice and jumped up to do a few jumping jacks before repeating the sequence.

"Are you really an angel?" One of the younger kids asked curiously.

"Far from it!" Angela started to laugh.

"But you look like an angel. And your voice is very sweet and you have shiny hair. So, you must be an angel." The same kid pointed out. She had heard Angela's name earlier and had assumed it meant something else.

"I was supposed to be an angel. But I'm not." Angie said, as they had now moved on to 'the staring game'. The kids were sat on the floor and everyone was bombarding her with questions and staring at her with eyes wide open, full of curiosity.

"Why not?" One of them asked.

"Well, I guess life had other plans for me." Angie smiled and it was bittersweet. She never spoke about _that_ part of her life.

"But, if you were an angel, you could fly. And that would be really cool."

"And you'd have wings, too!"

"I think she would sparkle. She looks like she would be one of the sparkly angels."

"And she could change colors whenever she wanted!"

The kids' imagination was going wild and Angie kept laughing at all of their statements.

"If I was an angel, I wouldn't be here." She said, without the intention of giving them the grown-up information that being an angel would require someone to die first.

"But Emmie is an angel. And she's always here on the 6th. She never misses a month. Sometimes she comes earlier or later because she says work doesn't always allow her to be here on the 6th. And also, sometimes she comes more times during the month. She paid for our trip, too!" One of the elder girls said, pointing at Emily with one finger, as she was still stood on the other side of the room, talking to Mrs. Vallard.

"Always on the 6th…" Angie repeated to herself, quietly.

Emily walked over at that moment.

"I should have probably given you the heads up, but since you said you didn't care where you went, I figured you wouldn't mind following me to run a personal errand before work. I'm just sorry you're not learning anything right now." Emily said apologetically.

"On the contrary, Emily Prentiss…" Angie looked her straight in the eyes, noticing them to be a bit more moist then earlier, in the car. Emily looked away immediately.

"I am learning a whole lot." Angie finished her thought before one of the kids tackled her to the floor again and started tickling her.

"Oh, no you didn't!" Angie started laughing hysterically. "You have awoken the tickle monster!" She tickled right back, only to find herself underneath at least ten little monsters who had ganged up on her and were making it hard for her to breathe.

Mrs. Vallard walked over as well.

"I'm sorry. You know how hyperactive they are right after breakfast." She said to Emily, wondering if her friend might find this wild scene a bit too much.

"It's alright. She's one tough kid. She can take just about anything." Emily sighed and then found herself a group of kids who wanted to play.

Mrs. Vallard left them alone and went to check if all the kids' beds were now properly made.

At some point, Angie and Emily's play groups meshed into a one big mess and none of them knew what game was being played at that moment, but everyone participated full-heartedly.

An hour later, it was time for the kids' healthy snack, which that day consisted of sliced green apples and some seedless red grape. They were now sitting in the food area, next to the play space, which left Emily now completely on her own, with Angela, for the first time since being in the car earlier.

Angela, for once, was keeping her big mouth shut. She firmly believed her statement from that morning, the one about Emily not being ready to hear how someone else had profiled her.

"At this point, I'd rather you just come out and say it already." Emily spoke first.

The suspense was killing her. She was well aware of the fact that her every move had been profiled thoroughly. That, however, hadn't made her want to change her behavior or act differently. No. She was herself, the Emily Prentiss that she knew how to be. If people didn't like her this way, it was not her problem.

And Angela appreciated that transparency.

"There is nothing I'd like to say." She smiled, masking the fact that she wanted to keep her conclusions to herself, by a clever play of words.

Too bad Emily was too smart to fall for that. She met Angie's smart comment with some stone-cold silence.

A minute and a half later it felt beyond awkward. Now that the kids were all eating, the silence in the play room was unbearable.

"Fine. You are really good with kids, like, _unbelievably_ good! I still don't get why you don't want to have any of your own." Angie gave up and blurted some of her thoughts out loud.

"There are plenty of kids who need love and affection. I don't have to give birth to someone, in order to love them." Emily's honesty was refreshing. It also made Angela both smile and frown contemporarily.

"How long have you been involved with this orphanage?"

"A while now…" Emily shrugged.

If she had to be honest, she had no idea. It felt like decades had passed and yet, it also felt like it was just yesterday that she had met the kids and the manager there – Mrs. Vallard.

Angie's face then formed a smile and there wasn't much else she wanted to get off her chest at that moment.

"Emmie?" A young girl ran towards the sofa where Emily and Angela were sitting.

She was adorable, with her now loosened piggy tails and her rosy cheeks from all the jumping earlier. She was now nibbling on a piece of apple and she had no idea a strand of hair was stuck on it before she reached to take a bite.

"Whoops, come here Nora." Emily put the kid on her lap and her hand brushed against her cheek, removing the strand of blond hair before she'd bite into it, along with the apple.

"Do you know that in two weeks I will have a mommy and daddy, too?" She said, her voice full of joy. Enthusiasm. Hope.

"Oh?" This was news to Emily.

Mrs. Vallard always called to inform Emily when new families were taking actions and starting the adoption process for any of the kids. However, she wasn't aware of Nora's new family arrangements.

"This is amazing, sweetheart. I am so happy for you." Emily said softly, enveloping the girl in a warm hug.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Nora whispered and Emily nodded.

Nora than gave Angie a doubtful stare. It wouldn't really be their secret if a third person heard it.

"It's okay, Nora. She knows all of my secrets." Emily chuckled, trying to ease Nora into whatever it was that she wanted to share.

It would either be another one of her confessions for stealing someone's slice if watermelon, which had happened last month, or she'd confess she had forgotten to brush her teeth in the morning, which had been the case two months ago. Emily remembered almost every detail of her conversations with the kids and Nora was one of her favorites. She was so vibrant, funny, loud, spontaneous, smart, active, and so much more.

"I kind of always secretly wished that it would be _you_. You know, that you'd want to be my mommy. I asked for it for Christmas last year and then for my birthday, too." Nora's confession came out of nowhere. It sent daggers to Emily's heart instantly.

"But then this family came and they picked _me_ and I stayed over for a weekend and they asked Mrs. Vallard to let me be their kid forever." Nora continued. This had apparently happened quite recently and quite fast.

"_Anyone_ would be lucky to have you as their child, sweet Nora. Never forget that!" Emily kissed the top of her head, just because she was so adorable and innocent.

Angie was now biting her bottom lip, mentally giving herself amazing reasons not to start bawling her eyes out. This scene was a bit too much to handle.

"Will you ever take a child?" Nora asked, because her five year old brain did not understand how direct and personal her question really was.

"Yes. I would love to have a child. But it would have to be a child who really wants me in their life. It's a two-way deal, you know? I want them, but they have to want me, too." Emily saw Nora looking at her in confusion.

"It's complicated. But yes, there is so much space for love in my heart. And I love you too, my little peanut. A paper wouldn't have changed anything. With my job, I am not able to take a young child and give it everything they need. However, I care about you and I'd request to see you in your new family house. Just wait for it." Emily finally managed to make herself a little more clear.

"I know you will. You are big and strong and you can do anything you want!" It was clear that Nora worshipped Emily and that only earned her more warm snuggles.

"And you will grow up to be big and strong as well." Emily then heard Mrs. Vallard's voice, calling out for her. She needed Emily's signature on one of the money transfer papers, so Emily excused herself and left Nora to sit on the couch, next to a now mute Angela.

While Emily walked off with Mrs. Vallard for the next few minutes, Nora took a sudden interest in Angie.

"You look like you're about to cry. Why?" Nora blurted out.

"Bless your beautiful five year old soul, Nora…" Angie said, half-sarcastically.

Nora was so incredibly direct and Angie could not help but find some similarities between the two of them. Both would say what was on their mind and both would feel someone else's pain instantly. Their sense of empathy was strongly developed, from an early age.

Angie moved to sit closer to Nora. Now that the kid was no longer in Emily's lap and being cuddled, she found herself instinctively wanting to continue Emily's good deed.

Nora leaned in right away, allowing Angie to put one hand on her shoulder and let her lay against her frame.

"I'm not sad. On the contrary, little girl - I am very happy that you are going to have a family. One that wants you…" Angie could not mask up the awkwardness. Yes, she really was genuinely happy for Nora, but comparing her situation to another one, one that Angie had given lots of thought about, it made her feel weird.

"What about you? Has anyone wanted you?" Those words sent shivers down Angie's spine.

Was this child a profiler? How did she know? People usually assumed that Angela had a family, but lived on her own now that she had legally been an adult for a few years.

She let her eyes shut for a second, seeing a line of images pop up in her head. An image of her, around Nora's age. She was smiling, standing right in front of a few other people, all smiling.

Then there was an image of her, on her own, with a frown, in the dark.

And then all the images after that, she was on her own. Occasionally there would be shadows of other people around her, but nothing too clear. Everyone else was blurry and she was the only focus of all images.

Until there it was – an image of her, being held by an amazing person, both smiling, in front of a fountain. Angela loved fountains. She had also allowed herself to love someone enough, for them to have become the focus in one of Angie's mental images.

And the next photo was of the most broken version of Angela she could ever remember. She was no longer the focus of her own memories. It looked like she wasn't even present, not as herself anyway, in those images that started rolling and changing quickly in front of her eyes. It almost gave her a headache. Her heart started beating faster and she had to force herself to open her eyes again, before those images would cause her any more pain.

"No, sweet Nora. Nobody really wanted me." She finally replied the question, with one hand caressing Nora's left arm, and the other – nervously slicking her own hair and tucking it behind her ears.

"But you are a good girl. Don't be sad. One day someone would want you and then you will be happy again." Nora offered her support and Angie had to bite her lips hard, on order to compose herself.

Emily had signed the missing paper quickly and she had returned back to the play area almost instantly, meaning she had the time to witness the whole scene. She never made a sound, standing behind the couch, just watching Angie and Nora's interaction. Everything about this Angela girl was screaming pain to Emily, but it was her _words_ that got to her.

Those words would stay with Emily for a while.

They'd haunt her.

_"__Nobody really wanted me…"_

Emily was the master of disguise. She could hold back her emotions better than anyone. She could smile and deceive people. Hell, if she could occasionally fool even JJ, then she was damn good. She had, ultimately, survived Ian Doyle, purely based on lies and deception.

But why was she finding it so incredibly hard to hold back those tears now? Why was Angela able to bring out the worst in Emily Prentiss? And also, the best in Emily Prentiss?

Emily gulped when she saw how swiftly Angela took her place with Nora. She knew Nora's history and how she had ended in the orphanage. Nora was extremely vibrant, but she was terrified of people. She would play with kids and talk to adults, she'd smile and run around, but there would always come the moment when she'd shut down. Completely. She would not let anyone, especially grown-ups, get closer than two feet. She wouldn't let them even touch her with one finger. She'd scream at the top of her lungs if someone tried to show her affection.

But then again, having been the sole witness of a violent crime at the age of five would do that to someone.

Nora's behavior was a copy-paste version of Emily. Both were terrified of people and of what they could do to other people. Emily, too, would never let someone touch her if she didn't know them extremely well, which was what was tripping her over, when it came to Richard. She had instantly given him the green light, letting him hold her, show affection, drive her across a foreign country. And Nora had instantly let Angela in, letting her hold her and letting her show her the affection that Nora had intentionally been depriving herself of since that unfortunate day when she had turned from a kid, to a witness on a cold, wooden stand.

Emily had worked that case. Her team had been unable to convince Nora to come out of hiding. They had found the little girl, scared out of her mind, locked in the Princess Castle in the patio of a house that had become the venue of yet another massacre that the BAU had been called to investigate.

Emily remembered how deeply disturbing that situation had been. Even Rossi, being the most experienced one of them all, had walked off at some point, wiping a lonely tear with the back of his hand.

JJ had, for some reason, freaked out. She had been a mess during the discovery of Nora.

Emily had kept her cool. On the inside she had been destroyed beyond repair, but on the outside she had been rock solid, knowing that there was a young girl whose life and well-being depended on her. She had negotiated for Nora, offering her own life in return. She had outsmarted the UnSub in her own profiler way and she had, since then, made sure Nora had a normal place to live and enough support. Emily had visited her almost every day, for months after that case.

Mrs. Vallard was amazing with children, having brought up three of her own, but Emily took it upon herself to make sure Nora was healing. And she was – with each visit by Emily, Nora was healing a little bit more. She had started smiling at first and then, after a long period when she wouldn't utter a word, she had started talking. But only to Emily. Then she had extended that privilege to Mrs. Vallard as well and then she had suddenly opened up to the kids, quickly becoming their favorite play pal.

Emily was proud of her. No wonder Nora had secretly wanted Emily to adopt her. But Emily just could not…

_"__Nobody really wanted me…"_

Those words kept on ringing in Emily's head. She could not shake them. She had only heard them a minute ago and since then, a lot had ran through her mind.

Angie and Nora were still cuddled on the couch.

Usually the kids would never be allowed to walk off from the food area, but Mrs. Vallard had made an exception for Nora, now that Emily was there.

What was surprising was that Nora was now cuddling up to a complete stranger. It had taken her months to get back to a somewhat normal state, with Emily. But it had taken her minutes, to let Angie in. She either felt a bond with Angie or Angie was simply _that_ good with kids.

Either way, Emily did not care. As long as Nora was happy, she would not question why.

And yet, Emily's eyes were glued on Angie. She saw her from behind, but the girl looked so peaceful and yet, so troubled herself.

_"__Nobody really wanted me…"_

If those words resonated in Emily's mind one more damn time, she'd surely lose it.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan"** Yes, travel/languages is one of the many things they have in common. You'll read more about Angie's languages and interests. And yes, Angie is an empath who always feels bad for other people, going through pain. But at the same time, she does not give a crap about her own pain - she tries to block it out and not bother others with it. It's usually easy for people to trust Angela quickly enough, to show her their true emotions and not feel like they need to hide and pretend to be someone they're not (as just witnessed with Nora in this chapter, too). As for her profiling skills, she may find out that profiling on the field is completely different than profiling on paper. However, she might not even be given the chance to find it out...who knows which Unit she will end up doing her internship at? We dunno yet :P And finally - YES, Angie and Emily have TONS to offer each other, they don't even know it yet. "Angela Hunter" has to yet figure out exactly who "Emily Prentiss" is now, before they could move forward and complete each other, teach each other valuable life lessons (and occasionally - field work lol!).

**"sweetkid45"** Oh, don't worry :)! Will was only mentioned, to introduce the dramma for JJ. He probably won't appear again, I'll mention later on what happened tot hat story and be done with it, without using Will directly. I'm not his fan either hehe. It would have been funny if JJ was paired with some super cute guy and all the other girls would be drooling over him, before they'd find out he was JJ's boyfriend lol, imagine how awkward!


	96. Je Veux Seulement Oublier

** CHAPTER 96**

_**JE VEUX SEULEMENT OUBLIER…**_

"Can you do me a favor, Angela Hunter?" Emily asked as they got in the car.

She had avoided eye contact with Angie pretty much the entire time they spent in the orphanage, even when they both played the same game with the kids. They were both really good at playing games, especially mind games, so Emily had figured that eye contact would only take away from the thrill.

_That_, and also the fact that she was upset, the entire time. She just didn't want it to show in her eyes, if Angie caught a glimpse. Emily refused to communicate non-verbally with her. Of course there was the whole "Angela wants to be a profiler" side to the story, so the girl managed to learn so much about Emily Prentiss, either way.

"Yes, of course I would, Emily Prentiss." Angie said politely.

"Don't mention…this…" Emily trailed off, unable to find a word to describe what had just happened. "…to my team. Please?"

"They don't know!?" Angie did not mean to sound _so_ surprised, but she couldn't help her tone of voice.

Also – this looked like something Emily was very passionate about. It surely was a big part of her life and her monthly routine. Angie had heard how incredibly close Emily Prentiss was with her team members, so it was weird to now learn that none of them knew about this big chunk of Emily's life.

"They don't have to know _everything_ about me." Emily said lamely.

_"__Uh, yeah they do!"_ – Angie thought to herself without saying a word out loud.

If she were a colleague of Emily's she'd want to know everything about her. She'd take offence in learning that Emily had hidden such a huge part of herself, for so long.

"Do _I_?" Angie challenged out loud, keeping her previous thought to herself.

So far it seemed like Emily had no problem sharing _very_ personal things with Angela.

Emily, in turn, found herself feeling like she was completely naked, in front of a stranger. She had taken the imaginary lairs of clothes off, one by one, until there was nothing but Emily Prentiss left.

"This week, you do!" Emily replied calmly.

Angie smiled and enjoyed the faint music that Emily then played in the car. It was a CD of old French chansons, sung by people whose names the youngsters, about Angie's age, would not have even heard of.

"Je ne veux pas travailler…Je ne veux pas déjeuner…" Angie's soft singing voice sounded so quietly as she chanted along with the current song. "Je veux seulement oublier…"

"What do you want to forget?" Emily looked at her for a second.

First of – the girl knew Edith Piaf, which made her even more amazing in Emily's eyes. Secondly, she had just sung a part of the lyrics that say she'd like to forget something. And she had sounded genuine about it, unless Emily was reading way too much into the song.

"Things…" Angie shrugged. "Memories…" She then added, until the statement sounded suspiciously much like something Emily had said to her earlier that morning.

"And people?" Emily rose her eyebrows. "What about people? Want to forget anyone in particular?"

Angie's usual confidence was not showing. It never really did, when she was around Emily. It almost seemed and felt like Angela was a completely different person, but inside the same body, with the same face.

"Mhh. I'm not sure. I'm still trying to figure it out." She replied vaguely.

It wasn't a good enough answer for Emily. She would have to repeat that question, maybe a few days later.

* * *

"Welcome to the BAU lair!" Emily said cheerfully, as soon as the elevator doors opened and she found herself back home – the place she considered her home anyway; with Angie standing by her side.

Emily took a step forward, but Angela was immobile for a long moment. Turning around to check on her, Emily noticed a smile on Angela's face. A smile of hope. Not so much of happiness. There was some melancholy behind those bright green eyes of hers. And yet, she smiled.

Instinctively, Emily extended her hand for Angela - she figured it might be easier for the girl to transition from her Trainee life into a real, actual FBI office setting, if someone was holding her hand, walking her through it.

And it was.

Angie held Emily's hand willingly. At first she had done so only because she couldn't find the strength to walk on her own. Something about that place was tripping her.

And then, she held onto Emily's hand as they walked across the bullpen. It was a warm hand, a firm grip, but yet a soft one. And still, one that felt like it wouldn't slip away from Angie's hands. She remembered people with such grips – they were some of those shadowy figures in the mental images she had seen an hour ago when she had checked out of the reality for a moment. Grips, as good as Emily's, had once held Angie's hand, warmed it, given her hope and promising her everything she ever wanted in life.

Those grips had then loosened and slipped off, disappearing into the darkness. They had left Angie broken.

Realizing that, she instinctively let her hand slip away from Emily's. She'd be damned if she let another person hold her, only to leave her in the end. So, she pulled away first.

If Emily knew what was going on in Angie's head at that moment, she'd draw a never ending series of parallels between the two of them, when it came to running away before getting hurt.

"Guys, this is…" Emily started, wanting to introduce Angela to her team members, all of whom had their eyes glued to the beautiful young girl who had walked in with Emily.

However, she was interrupted before she could even utter the girl's name.

"My favorite future profiler!" Rossi was the first one to go greet Angela and it gave her so much satisfaction. She had some sort of an obsession with that man and she was not afraid to confess to it.

"Hello Mr. Rossi. It's an honor to be here, where it all started; with _you_, who started it!" Angie said politely, trying to sound calm, collected and professional. How could she possibly hide her true emotions, remained a secret. On the inside she was bursting with joy. David Rossi…_the_ David Rossi had spoken so highly of her he remembered her name and he had smiled instantly when he laid eyes on her. Angie could not remember a time in life when she had felt more proud of herself. This was it. This was amazing and this was _so_ worth it all the sleepless nights, with a book in hand. This was worth memorizing every word in each one of this books. This was Heaven and Angie was now living in it, temporarily. She'd get to see this man each day, for the next seven days. This was so worth it.

David appreciated the throwback and the fact that this girl had done her research. Yes, she was shadowing the current Unit Chief, but it was flattering that she knew the BAU had actually been founded by Rossi.

"Hello, it's so nice to see you again!" Reid jumped up from his seat, recognizing the girl who had asked him to do a lecture on geoprofiling. "I've been thinking about you! There is a really cool seminar soon, about two hours away from here. It's in a University and I've been invited to speak. I can bring a plus one. Oh…that sounded wrong. I mean, it's just a seminar. If you're interested, we can go. I think you'll love the topics, so I wanted to ask you to come with me." Reid said frantically, hoping this wasn't coming off as a lame attempt to flirt with the girl, which most certainly was not his intention.

His colleagues smiled, because Reid never usually invited people to his seminars. He'd go on his own, because no matter how many times he had asked the team, they had come up with excuses not to go. And when they actually went, they had been forced to fake interest so that they wouldn't hurt his feelings. The fact that he was aware of it all along was what hurt him the most. So at some point he just stopped extending invites. And it wasn't like him to invite strangers to tag along, so Angela must have made a pretty good impression on him during his two lectures at the Academy.

"The only thing I like more than seminars, are _free_ seminars!" Angie smirked. "I'd more than love to go with you, Dr. Reid. Thank you for kindly extending the invite."

"She called me _Dr. Reid_! I like her!" He said happily to the first person he found by his side, who turned out to be Luke.

"Oh, I know!" Garcia ran over to the side of the bullpen, where everyone was now basically ganged up at, eyeing Angela up and down.

"I know!" Garcia continued. "You're the cutie-pie who complimented my shoes during the hearing. Thank you! You have no idea how much they hurt, but hearing they look good made me wear the pain like a champion!"

"You are welcome. I'm pretty sure I already love _everything_ about you." Angie smiled, adoring everything about that woman – from her overly puffed up hair all the way down to her pair of extremely tacky pink and purple shoes. She especially loved the excessive amount of glitter on the heels. She'd never be able to pull those shoes off, but Garcia was doing an amazing job at making them look just amazing.

"Okay, I love her and she _must_ to stay!" Garcia concluded after hearing how Angela spoke _to_ her and _about_ her.

"That's right - you're the kid who took Fowler down!" Matt remembered now.

"I didn't do it. Karma did." Angie smiled brightly.

"Guys, this is Angela Hunter, she's one of the Academy Trainees and she has so kindly asked me to be her mentor for Big-Little Week. So, she will be spending quite some time here, at the BAU. I'm sure in no time you'll get used to seeing those emerald eyes around here." Emily finally presented her to the team, officially.

"Those eyes, alright…" Luke muttered subconsciously, while eyeing Angela. He hadn't meant to be so vocal about his thoughts. Matt nudged him, hoping that would make him shut up and make less of a bad impression.

"Well, hello you…" Angie had noticed the way Luke was checking her out and it did not bother her. At all. She knew how to handle a hungry Latino man. Plus, she'd never back down, especially not for a man. So, mimicking the game his eyes played on her body, she checked him up and down before she spoke again.

"_You_ can call me Angie…" She added with a playful wink.

Angie then made rounds, shaking everyone's hand, just because this would make the meeting a bit more official than the little verbal communication they had already made.

It felt weird, on both sides.

Angie already knew about the BAU people thanks to her stalking ways and they had already met her a few times – at the Devil Child bar, during the hearing and, some of them, even in the classroom.

And yet, it felt good to be officially presented to the team, by their leader. It almost felt like Emily was making her part of the team as well, at least for the week to follow.

"Oh, goodie, we have a Mini Prentiss now!" Garcia said happily.

Angie gulped and looked at Emily.

"The official name of this week is Big-Little Week. The Academy received a lot of crap about that name - people say it sounds like an initiation game at a sorority…" Emily explained. "So us Agents just started referring to our Littles, the Trainees, as our Minis instead. That also backfired, as some took offence and thought us Agents were being rude and belittling the Trainees. So now we just don't know what to call you. Plus, I've never really done this, so I'm even more confused…"

"You've never participated in that week? How come nobody ever requested _you_?" Angie asked in disbelief.

Yes, she might have had a severe case of obsession and deep appreciation for Rossi, but she also found herself having a mild case of platonic infatuation with this Emily Prentiss woman now, too. Naturally, this was evident in the way she spoke about her, even the way she simply shot her glances every now and then, as if to check if she was still there, by her side.

"Oh, they did request me. It's just that…" Emily sighed before she continued. "No Trainee has ever felt like the right Mini for me, so I turned all of the requests down. Not to sound conceited or anything, but I just didn't think they'd be able to keep up with my hectic schedule and their own training schedule, so early in the Academy."

"Ah…" Angie did not believe that for a second. Emily must have had a better reason and it was only a matter of time that Angie would find it out.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, we have a pretty loose schedule this week. Only two morning classes are obligatory, but other than that we are free to skip classes so we can follow our Agents whenever we want to, just as long as we read up all the new material we've missed out on. And, not to sound conceited, but I'm a distinctly above average intelligent person, so I probably already know most of the theory anyway. So, it would really be my pleasure to learn some action from _you_ now, Emily Prentiss." Angie said calmly. Somehow, she managed to not sound conceited about it, too.

"Oh, I love a young person who is not afraid of their intellect!" Reid smiled brightly, hoping this girl would be as good as she claimed she was.

"Welcome to the BAU, Angela." Rossi said, giving her a warm welcome with open arms. He already adored this girl, her charisma and her brain, but most of all – her enthusiasm and the passion she had shown in profiling.

"Sorry I'm late…" JJ muttered as she walked in. It was lunch time now and she hadn't even contacted anyone, nor replied to their messages and calls, all morning.

It was different with Emily, who had officially taken the morning off, on the 6th day of each month. She did not have to reply Tara's phone call earlier and she wasn't supposed to give answers to anyone.

"JJ, you need to inform me when you are taking personal time off, you know that." Emily said as the Unit Chief.

"Other than that, I hope everything is okay and you know if you ever need something, you have all of us you can turn to." Emily added, now as JJ's best friend.

Sometimes it was hard for her, having to make a distinction between the two roles she played with her team and it was especially hard when it came to JJ.

"Yeah, thanks." JJ said weakly.

Ever since Will's insecurities had blown up in her face, JJ had not been acting like herself. The day after she had stayed over at Emily's, she had taken some personal time off and nobody knew the reason for that.

"All of you, plus one, I see…" JJ eyed Angela curiously, only seeing her in profile.

They were not on a case, so this could not have been a witness, waiting for interrogation.

Looking at the girl more closely, JJ realized she knew her.

"I know you…" JJ half smiled, as soon as Angie turned around and JJ looked in her eyes.

"Trainee Angela Hunter. It's nice to meet you. I'll be following Emily Prentiss around for a week." Angie spoke before JJ could continue her sentence, almost as if she was afraid what JJ might have said instead.

"You're the one who got us rid of Fowler." JJ said, but there was something about this girl that seemed familiar, apart from that. Maybe she was remembering bits and pieces from the night at Devil Child bar – JJ had been more than drunk, so it was plausible she didn't remember everything.

Angie shrugged casually. She hated taking credit for things.

Angie had shaken everyone's hand and had looked everyone in the eyes, while meeting them. Everyone, but JJ. Somehow she distanced herself from JJ from the second she saw her enter the bullpen, physically taking a step back, as soon as she had turned around and seen JJ there.

"Now, Angela Hunter, we usually start our days with coffee and breakfast and a quick gathering in the meeting room. Since today starts at lunch time for me, we are going to get some food and then we'll discuss possible cases before we continue either with paper work or working on a case if we choose one to take up on." Emily broke the awkward silence between JJ and Angela. Someone _really_ needed to do it.

JJ was still eyeing Angela with curiosity. Angela, however, was looking around the bullpen, pretending like JJ was not even there.

"Okay. There is a cool healthy place just between your campus and mine. They have sandwiches with avocado and quinoa salad." Angie smiled brightly, to which most of the guys laughed, leaving her confused.

"You see, the BAU is all about pizza – all day, every day." Emily pointed out.

"Oh, I love pizza!" Angela was happy that finally, after all the healthy food she had tried to consume, she now had a legitimate excuse to eat what she really wanted to eat.

"Rossi, JJ, Garcia, would you join Angela and I, in my car? The rest of you guys will fit in the van with Luke." Emily suggested and Angela was beyond excited. It would be her second time off campus, in just half a day. This was great.

Rossi sat in the passenger's seat while Angela was in the back, between JJ and Garcia. She noticed how Rossi shot her a few glances, using the rear-view mirror of the car. His curiosity was well masked. Same could not be said about Garcia, who spent the entire time bombarding Angie with questions.

"How is the Academy nowadays?" Garcia had started.

"Tough, but not impossible. It's more about the psychological endurance for me, than theory. I came very well prepared. The first few classes were a total snooze fest." Angie laughed.

"Any hot trainers?" Of course Garcia would ask _that_ question.

"Hmm, just one, but he's married. Plus, I'm not looking. And it would be weird, so…" Angie shrugged.

Had she dropped Morgan's name, all Hell would break loose. The BAU still had no idea he was back in the city. In order to keep it that way, he had come up with the name DeMo for himself, a combination of his first and last name, so he'd fly under the radar for as long as possible. He only ever spent a couple of hours there, twice a week, and he was always just hanging out around the Academy Campus, avoiding the main building and all the designated parking areas, for Agents. So far he had managed to not tip anyone off.

"What's your favorite color?" Garcia continued asking.

"Sparkles. Anything that sparkles is just awesome." Angie said honestly. She wouldn't wear too many things with sparkles, but if it were something to lounge in at home, or wear to sleep when nobody is looking, it would be sparkly like it was Vegas all day, every day.

"Good. I love sparkles too. And Unicorns and tea mugs and pink and fluffy things and hair spray and I love Grease!" Garcia kept on adding to her list until she was short out of breath.

"Oh, Grease is my favorite musical!" Angie's eyes lit up. A huge smile formed on her face and Emily could not help but check it out, in the mirror. Seeing Angela instantly brighten up, made Emily smile as well.

Rossi, sitting next to Emily, was now busy profiling _her_, and not the new girl.

JJ had recently tried desperately to make Emily smile. And she had succeeded, occasionally, but all of the smiles were fake or rather - forced.

Yet, this one now was full of light. It was genuine. It oozed warmth.

"I used to go see it in a theater close to where I lived. It was on for a whole year and I must have seen it at least fifty times. We'd always dress up and do our hair like the girls from the show and we'd sneak our own snacks in and we'd sing along with all the songs. I bought all the merchandise possible and I even made friends with some people from the cast. It was great!" Angela suddenly lightened up even more. It was as if she had flipped a switch and turned into a bubbly monster, quite like Garcia.

"We?" Rossi caught on that slip.

"Yeah. I went with that one person. It was a long time ago." Angie flipped the switch again, now relaxing against her seat and being significantly less bubbly.

"Sounds like someone special in your life." Rossi continued.

"Mhh, yeah. They were. Until they left." Angie decided to be honest. Vague, but honest.

Rossi then shot a glance at Emily whose tongue was now licking her bottom lip.

Emily was the master of leaving and they all knew that. If Rossi could make her connect the dots and show her just how much leaving someone hurts, testified by Angela's current confession, it would be a win in his book.

Emily was painfully aware of his game and that was why she refused to grace him with a glance. She had the perfect excuse of having to drive and be careful on the street, but he knew exactly what was on Emily's mind.

Or at least he _thought_ he knew.

"JJ, everything alright there? You're quiet." Emily changed the topic.

"Mhm." JJ muttered, keeping her eyes on the road and giving Angie and Garcia the shoulder, which was something JJ would never do to anyone, out of respect.

Her phone had also buzzed a few times and had been ignored until the point where she had switched it off completely.

Emily was terrified to even ask what was going on. JJ was not being herself and that troubled Emily. However, JJ was somewhat like Emily – when things were tough, she needed her space. She'd initially push people away, before she'd finally cave in and confine in the person she feels most comfortable with. That was usually Emily.

Arriving at the pizza place first, they chose their table and waited for the rest of the team before placing the order.

"Diavola, con tantissimo formaggio. Grazie!" Angie said to the waitress after figuring that this was an Italian restaurant, held by Italians.

"Uh, okay Mini Prentiss." Luke pointed out and he confused Angela.

"It's all Emily ever eats." Rossi elaborated.

"Ha! Seriously? Emily Prentiss likes it hot? Humor me!" Angie shot a glance at Emily, sounding a little bit sarcastic.

"Yeah, she flipped a switch and stopped experimenting with toppings once she found hot salami and cheese. It's weird, she started eating that right after she came back from the dead…uh, I mean from Paris. It's not a popular topping there. They don't even eat pizza there. Wait, do they?" Garcia ranted.

"Yeah, she came back a different person after Paris…" JJ said weakly and it was pretty much all she said during the entire lunch.

"How so?" Angie asked curiously, her eyes piercing through Emily, making it impossible for her to avoid such a direct question.

"Guess Paris changed me." Emily shrugged and lost her appetite in the process.

"What about Paris changed you?" Angie would not drop it. She kept on nagging, with that innocent look on her face, while sipping on a glass of Coca Cola.

"Things…memories…" Emily started saying a line that Angela had already heard.

"People?" Angie finished that line, along with Emily.

They spoke in perfect unison, the timbers of their voices complementing each other to the point of perfection - Emily's hardcore Unit Chief authority-infused voice and Angela's young, innocent, vibrant, tender voice. They were the perfect match. Too bad only Angela was into analyzing voices, so _she_ was the only one who realized that.

Emily nodded, confirming it one more time.

"Sounds like Paris really did a trick on you, huh?" Angie kept on pushing it.

"It did. It still does…" Emily was now regretting her choice of a drink. A bubbling drink wouldn't help her calm down the daemons that were now brewing inside of her, unless it was a bottle of champagne that was bubbling.

"It's alright. You have all these amazing people in your life now." Angie's hand pointed across the table, showcasing the entire team.

"Yeah, that's not how it works. Once you love someone, you don't just get over them. You can't magically replace them with anyone else." Emily's sudden heartfelt confession startled her team. She had been so reserved and quiet recently and yet, there she was, speaking openly about the darkest time of her life.

They all figured she was speaking about Ian Doyle and none of them dared to comment on that.

"Not to say that I don't love and appreciate each one of you, guys." Emily felt the need to say it out loud, as her previous words might have been interpreted the wrong way.

JJ shivered, remembering Emily's love letter from some man, named Richard. She was now in the shittiest situation, where she knew something _so_ personal about Emily and yet, she could not admit it to her. On top of her own family drama, JJ now had _that_ to worry about and it was driving her insane.

She interpreted Emily's words differently. She spoke about Paris and loving someone, but she never said if she meant her post Ian Doyle healing period or her recent trip to Paris. Could it be about this mysterious man who wrote her the letter? Was Emily heartbroken over getting dumped?

Rossi was always able to pick up on the bad vibes among the team and he knew that pretty much everyone was feeling a bit uncomfortable now. So, he did what he found suitable and that was to change the topic.

"E quindi, parli italiano?" He asked Angie, wondering if she really spoke Italian or maybe she was just able to order in Italian and sound like she was fluent.

"Un pò, sì." Angie said humbly, to which Emily scoffed.

So far Angela had been extremely modest about everything, so saying now that she only spoke a little Italian might turn out not to be the case.

"Have you ever been in Italy?" Rossi asked again.

"Yeah and, no offence, but I'd like to forget all about it." Angie winced, clearly harboring negative feelings towards that country.

"None taken. I love Italy, but I know it's not always ideal…" Rossi said while sipping on a glass of water. "What made you dislike it?" He added, curiously.

"The wrong boyfriend, or rather- a very stressful, emotionally draining relationship with a very bad guy. And I also had a very stressful job that ended on a very sour note, with the very wrong people…at the very wrong time." As Angela spoke, Rossi profiled her as someone who was extroverted, only to mask up a certain loneliness inside - a mysterious person who would fool you, replying to your questions with a million words, while not revealing the true answer. A skilled liar. If she were already an Agent, Rossi would have no doubt that she would be an undercover Agent. And a damn good one, too.

And yet – there she was…a twenty-three year old girl with a bright smile, even brighter green eyes and a small bow in her hair. She looked so cute, so young, so innocent.

Why did Rossi feel so attracted to her? In a strictly platonic and professional way, of course. He simply could not get enough of this girl.

"What is your favorite movie?" Matt asked. He had a taste for action movies while Tara and Rossi adored old Hollywood movies.

"I don't have one." Angie shrugged.

"Get out of here." Matt laughed genuinely. "How come?"

"I don't watch TV and I barely ever go to the movies. I do it only when I'm forced to and I can't get away with it. I mean, I guess I might enjoy the cinema, but it's not something I'd intentionally go spend my money on." She replied honestly.

"What's your favorite music?" Luke took his turn to ask her a question. He loved music and he was always curious if he could connect to people through music. It usually backfired because his taste was quite specific and pretty much nobody knew the Latino singers, groups and songs he'd rave on and on about.

"Ok now, I cannot reply that question too easily. I love everything – from old French chansons, you know, songs by Edith Piaf, Dalidá, Joe Dassin, Charles Aznavour, Charles Trenet, Lucienne Boyer…to old school hip hop and r'n'b and I'm not talking some lame new artist. Oh, no! I'm talking Salt'n'Pepa, Boyzone, DMX, The Sugarhill Gang, The Notorious B.I.G., Cypress Hill, Coolio, Missy Elliott, Mary J. Blige, Tony Braxton, Ja Rule, Lauryn Hill and yeah, okay, I love me some Will Smith, shirtless…what now?" She chuckled.

"I also especially love Jamaican Dancehall. As far as my Country music taste goes: Shania Twain, Sara Evans, Tim McGraw, Mark Wills and a bunch of others." She stopped for a second, to catch her breath.

"Now, about oldies, I love Whitney Houston, Cher, Ace Of Base, Roxette. Bands? Westlife, Blue, meh, not much of a band groupie, but I like those. I'm a sucker for Tony Bennett and some good quality jazz music, with a glass of fine French wine, dim lights and a great book in hand." Another pause for a breath, as she was not yet done talking.

Rossi smiled, hearing his favorite singer's name – Tony Bennett. Everyone knew that Rossi was borderline obsessed with his music.

"And Salsa - Puerto Rican or Cuban, I love it either way. Maybe throw in some sexy bachata vibes, some sensual kizomba, too. But if I really have to get it going, it's always Reggaeton and Dembow, don't judge me." She chuckled, blushing lightly. Her taste apparently varied from sophisticated to downright dirty style. She loved it.

"For the record, my favorite singer is Jennifer Lopez." Angie added.

She had a bit of an obsession with the singer. She'd listen to lots of old music, but her favorite singer of all times was . Somehow she could identify with the struggles the singer must have had – born in the Bronx, making her way up to Hollywood. Angie had always been a fighter, doing anything she possibly could, so she would make something good out of herself, get places, be respected, be smart, be confident, and then maybe one day she would be an inspiration to some young girl out there who would want to grow up and be just like Angela.

"Boricua!" Luke smirked contently. Angie's favorite singer was from his native country – Puerto Rico. Plus, this girl mentioned Reggaeton and Dembow, which automatically made Luke like her even more. Down and dirty was his preferred style, both for dancing at a club and other things, too.

"Ya tu sabes!" Angie chuckled, shooting Luke a glance and blushing a bit.

"Hablas español?" Luke was impressed. They have just learned that she knew a little bit of Italian, but did she know Spanish better?

The team appreciated a good linguist. So far Emily held the record when it came to languages, information and first-hand experience with foreign cultures.

"Un poquito…" Angie said shyly, making him believe she only knew a little bit of Spanish, too.

Emily scoffed once again.

"She's all mine!" Luke smirked, directing his statement to the team. So far Angie had the most in common with _him_.

"Do you like cars?" Tara asked, hoping she'd meet her match in Angie.

"Not the tiniest little bit!" Angie laughed while making space for the waiter to put down the pizza he had just brought her.

"I'm told to be a good, stable driver. I drive safely and I'm good at parking…apparently. But, God, I don't enjoy doing any of it. I find driving boring and way too static for my active taste. I'd be surprised if I passed the tactical driving test at the Academy. I suck at tactical, it's ridiculous, even the trainer has it out for me. He thinks I'm the biggest loser in the world. Plus, I know nothing about cars. And soccer. Or math. And I'm the worst in arts and crafts." Angie added, making Tara frown.

Tara had been waiting for so long, to find someone who'd love to spend time with her, repairing that vintage car in her garage. Well, it wasn't going to be Angela.

"What subjects do you excel in?" Reid waited patiently for his turn and now that she mentioned the Academy, it was the perfect timing.

"I'm good at most. I try really hard to keep up with the classes I'm not too good at. But I've almost completely given up on tactical driving. It makes me want to yank chunks of my hair off my scalp. I hate it. For the record, I do not have trichotillomania." She rolled her eyes and Rossi could not help but notice something about that. She had done it in the same identical way that Emily always did - with a one and a half roll, accompanied by a silent Diva-like sigh of desperation.

Reid noticed something else – this girl knew the right medical term for the disorder that makes people pull on their hair. He could not be more impressed with her.

"I really like Ballistics, I love guns. But not in a weird way. Obviously." She then continued. "I love the physical preparation we're getting. It really helps me focus on my weak points and get stronger and faster. I really like the laboratory stuff too, but that's not what I'd end up doing here, at the FBI."

"And what is it that you'd like to do here?" Rossi asked.

"The thing I'm best at, in the Academy." Angie replied, once again, very vaguely.

"And what is that?" Rossi wouldn't let go until he had his answer, or rather – a confirmation on what he already suspected.

"The thing I'll apply for, when internship time comes around." Angie smirked.

If she didn't want to give someone a straight forward answer, she simply would not do so, no matter the tactics they'd use to extract information out of her.

Plus, she never even mentioned her profiling classes, intentionally. Rossi and Reid, having taught her in the Auditorium, already knew about _that_ interest of hers.

"Yeah, you're definitely a Mini Prentiss…" Rossi murmured, giving up on trying to have a conversation. Clearly, Angela liked games. So did Emily.

"It would be an honor if I was." Angie smiled and saw Emily shift in her seat.

"You have to see my office. I have so many cute tidbits." Garcia had waited way too patiently to have her turn to talk to Angie again. Since JJ was more than keen on skipping out her turn and preferred staying quiet instead, Garcia jumped at the opportunity to speak again.

"Cool! Do you have one of those cute reading lamps that change colors? I do! And mine has tassels, it's the tackiest thing you'll ever see. It's adorable!" Angie chuckled.

"Oh, why do you only have to stay with us for just a week? It's not enough!" Garcia had about a million things in mind – things she'd like to _show_ Angie, things she'd like to _teach_ her.

Everyone chimed in, pouring all sorts of information at Angie and promising her things they'd teach her.

"Okay, I think you guys are forgetting that she is _my_ Mini. I'd be the _only_ one doing the teaching." Emily could not help it - at some point those words, however jealous and possessive they made her sound, just rolled off her tongue.

"Okay, Mama Bear!" Garcia laughed, but Emily's facial expression showed just how little she enjoyed being called that.

"Oh sorry. I did that thing where I overstepped the boundaries again, didn't I?" Garcia looked down and decided to put all of her energy in cutting her pizza in perfectly even pieces, so she wouldn't feel compelled to speak again.

Angie then learned one more thing about Emily Prentiss – children and parenthood were an extremely touchy topic.

"Guys, give her a break. You're smothering her." Emily pointed out a few minutes later, as everyone but JJ were still all over Angie.

"Oh, I'm fine. I can handle myself." Angie informed Emily with a smile.

She had a mind of her own and she always handled her own stuff. And yet, she found it really endearing that Emily was looking out for her.

"But you've barely touched your food." Emily pointed out.

It was true – in between all the chatting, Angie had only taken a few small bites of her pizza. She had been way too interested in getting to know the team. It was impressive for someone who was so determined not to let anyone in, not to get close to anyone.

"I can't wait for the seminar!" Angie leaned across the table at some point, looking at Reid.

"Neither can I." He said with a full on nerdy smile.

JJ noticed how excited Reid was. She hadn't seen him open up with any other girl, as much as he did with Angie.

Overall, everyone loved Angie's charisma and her character. Maybe Bryan was right when he once told her that she was extremely relatable.

"I need to go…" JJ said at some point, after checking her phone for the hundredth time, regretting having switched it back on. "I'll run an errand and I'll catch up with you in the office in an hour or so."

"No, JJ. You're taking the rest of the day off. We will see you tomorrow morning." Emily stated.

"I don't need the day of-…" JJ started to speak, but got cut off instantly.

"This was not a suggestion, Agent Jereau. I will see you tomorrow at nine, in my office. Have a good day." Emily said, this time sounding stern and cold. It was the only way JJ would learn her lesson.

"Ugh!" JJ walked off and called herself an Uber, regretting not talking her own car to the restaurant, so she could leave when she pleased.

"A little harsh…" Rossi pointed out.

"Yeah, poor JJ…" Reid looked put the window, following JJ's movements until the moment she got in her Uber and disappeared. His heart was broken, seeing his best friend suffer and exclude herself from everyone in such an obvious manner. She had never acted this way before.

"She needs to learn that acting like a child won't fix her problems, especially when she does it with the only people who would never cause her harm. I can understand her distancing herself from us as her friends, but skipping work without notice and then being mentally non-present is just unacceptable. If we were on a case right now, her behavior might cost someone's life. A day off would serve her well. Sooner or later she'd crack and she'd come crying to one of us. She needs our support, but first she needs to drop the act and come ask for it." Emily's words made sense. Sometimes they had to show each other tough love.

"Must be fun being part of a team of profilers…" Angie commented, her face filled with terror.

The ease with which they spoke about JJ and analyzed how they needed to handle the situation, was something new to Angie. It sounded both cool - them knowing what to do; and terrifying.

"Maybe one day you'll know what it is like." Rossi smirked, wanting to provoke her to admit what he already suspected.

"Maybe…" Angie smirked right back in his face.

He wasn't going to be fooled by her beautiful eyes and genuine-looking smile. That girl screamed Profiler, since the moment he had spotted her in class. According to him, she didn't want to confess her desire to be a profiler earlier, as she didn't want to come off too confident, or maybe to get judged and micro analyzed by the profilers themselves. And it was a smart choice for her to dodge his question about the internship.

Also, it pained him to remember that this year the BAU no longer had the opportunity to welcome an intern.

"What's your favorite thing about the Academy?" Tara asked another question.

By then, everyone had finished their food and drinks and were now waiting for the bill before they'd leave.

"I like how it brings people together. And I don't just mean friendships. I guess right now I'm constructing relationships with people who would, potentially, be in my life for a long time. We've been told to respect everyone, as we never know who would save our ass out on the field, one day. I mean, I already respect people, but it's cool to be part of an organization that teaches respect, team work, discipline, courage, integrity." Angie replied briefly and grabbed something from the small bag she carried around with her.

The waitress just brought them the bill and Angie waved a food ticket at her.

"Excuse me, do you accept these?" She asked, but the waitress shook her head.

Angie then grabbed some cash from her bag, but before she could put it on the table, Emily put her hand over Angie's.

"Lunch is on me." Emily stated.

"No. I pay for myself. I mean, thank you, but no." Angie tried to hold her ground, even though she knew that the twenty dollar bill in her hand was one of the last ones in her wallet.

"I don't mean for _you_." Emily slid her card to the waitress. "I'm paying for everyone."

"Prentiss…" Luke tried to argue, but Emily would not listen.

Everyone suspected that Emily had, after all, suggested a cut to her salary, due to the budget cuts. It wasn't in the file JJ had written, the one Garcia had falsified and the team had forced her to turn in, but Emily had her ways. She'd happily deprive herself of something if it meant that her team would have it all.

Inevitably, Emily covered the bill and they were on their way back to the office.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"Ducksdragonfly" **I'm glad you enjoy that :)! Cases are obviously important, stressful, time-consuming, etc...and I'll mention cases and some specifics about cases during the story, but I won't go into full details. I focus on the relationships within the team, their lives, thoughts, what they go through and how they help each other out, as this is what I really enjoyed on the show (other than the cases obviously, because I'm obsessed with criminology lol). I like both seeing their struggles and their goofy fun times, as I believe they need to unwind hard, after everything they do on the job. I like the team dynamics and I'd like to believe in real life such work teams with strong bonds really do exist. Moreover - the insane female characters' bond and friendship, without the cattiness, jealousy and backstabbing = GOALS! Yes, they argue (which might be the case in the next few chapters), but ultimately it's about the way they handle such situations.

**"rmpcmfan"** Nora is a cutie pie! She has in common with Angie the fact that both have been through something traumatic that led them to refuse to let people in! Emily worked her magic and managed to help Nora get back to normal (talking again, smiling, laughing, playing with the kids), so now Angie needs someone to do the same magic trick on her when it comes to trusting people. Yeah, Nora let Angie in _very_ quickly! Angie has the ability to connect to people easily, to make them feel at ease around her.

No, this isn't the case Emily struggles with. This one hit the BAU hard, no doubt, especially with a small child involved. Emily took care and made sure Nora would be safe with Mrs. Vallard until a family adopted her. However, another case involving "a girl" was what upset her so much, a month ago (you will learn about it, too).

YES, I can finally confirm the reason why **Emily's finances have been tight lately is because she's been giving a huge chunk of her salary to the orphanage!** Even bigger, after that upsetting case. She knows her money is better spent on the kiddos, rather than new shoes and handbags.

Trust me when I say this: you have NO idea just HOW hard those words ("Nobody really wanted me") hit Emily! She is clearly going through a VERY emotional phase right now and bottling up everything...until she explodes. (She won't always be so upset, lol, I have sweet stuff waiting for her later on).

As for Angie's background - it's a complicated web of events, facts, relationships and emotions and it will unravel slowly. In respect to what is going on in the next chapters, more is revealed about Angie. Indirectly! Angie is like Emily - she won't utter a word, she'd admit to nothing! There will be flashbacks and I'll explain her inner thoughts in indirect speech, so the readers can know, but the characters won't have a clue. I'm mean :P LOL!

**"zhangxinna"** You're so sweet :)! Thank you, Angie learned a LOT about Emily during the orphanage chapter! Also, the readers learned that Angie is very good with kids and she loves them! Haha, Emily, Angie and Nora - 3 generations of Prentiss awesomeness? Imagine that, lol :D ! And yup, Angie and Emily have a lot in common, but are opposite, when it comes to things such as leaving/being left, hurting/being hurt. Not even "opposite", but more like - on the opposite side of those feelings, if it makes sense. Don't worry, this is just the beginning of the Angie/Emily rollercoaster ride lol. You have NO idea what's about to happen from this point on...I mean, put two _extremely_ opinionated, smart, strong women in a friendship together and expect the world to explode! Maybe one of them (if not both?) will change something for the better? Maybe in a way they can help each other out with their inner daemons? Also: Yes, the 6th is a VERY important number for Emily and it does have to do with a child, that's all I can say at this point :P

**"sweetkid45"** I'm going with the original s-xual orientation for each character, as seen on the show. Later in the chapters you may learn who has been a bad girl/boy in their younger years hehe, but both Emily and JJ are straight and VERY much into guys, as in the show :P Also, Angela is straight, even if she still thinks "boys are yucky" LOL! And thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter :)!


	97. Call Me Baby One More Time, I Dare You

** CHAPTER 97**

_**CALL ME BABY ONE MORE TIME, I DARE YOU**_

Garcia had not let Angela breathe, all the way back to the office, after the Monday lunch with the team. She had showered her with all the possible questions she could think of. And then some.

Angela seemed to love the attention, said in a good way. She would always reply politely and sincerely, except for the times when she'd be vague, but she was a human and she had the right to reserve certain information to herself.

"Garcia, you are just something else…" Emily laughed as they walked in the bullpen.

Naturally, Luke's mad driving skills had gotten the rest of the team back, before them.

"We need JJ…" Matt informed Emily as soon as he saw her.

"Good. Because she's right here." JJ stated, coming back from a quick walk to the restrooms.

Emily gave her a scolding look. JJ had disobeyed a direct order and that did not sit well with her. Emily had told her to take the rest of the day off and she had blatantly disregarded that.

"I need to see you in my office when everyone clocks out." That was all Emily said to her before she started ignoring the fact that JJ just got on her nerves like she never had before.

"Do we have a case?" Emily then turned her attention to Matt who had spoken to her earlier.

Having arrived at the office five minutes before Emily's car, the rest of the team had been welcomed with the news of a new assignment that Emily had to now review and decide whether to take up on or not.

"Possibly." He said, motioning towards the meeting room.

* * *

"Oh, Lordy…" Garcia looked away when they presented photos of the third victim.

"There is no doubt we're dealing with one UnSub here. The MO is unvaried in all three crimes." Emily pointed out when they finished looking at the photos and reading the reports that some police station had sent them, along with an invite to tag along for the investigation.

"What do you think, Angela?" Rossi gave her the green light.

He had noticed her, sitting eagerly, on the edge of her chair, with her eyes darting from Emily to the screen and then back to Emily again, as if she had something to say, but needed permission to do so.

"I believe the UnSub is highly skilled with those blades – sharp clean cuts, hits the major arteries and lets his victims bleed out. That's intentional. And it points to him possibly having a job that involves blades, say, a doctor, a barber, even butcher, but then he wouldn't have such good knowledge of the human body, so I suppose that's a bit farfetched as a guess." Angela spoke slowly, calmly and confidently.

There was no sign of the bubbly freak who had made friends with everyone during lunch just minutes ago. She had flipped the switch again and was now acting twice her age.

"The large cooling off period points to him having some sort of stability in his life. He might be married or, if it is the case of him being a doctor, he might even still be in practice. The highly organized nature of his crimes points to an intelligent white male, in his 40's, with higher education, someone with good social skills and, as mentioned previously, possibly even married. The lack of sexual violence on the victims points to him having a stable sexual relationship, one that satisfies his needs, so he no longer has to look for that elsewhere." Angie continued.

"Or he might be impotent…" Rossi tried to trick her.

"All due respect Sir, but I don't think so. If he was, we'd see some sort of a sexual component to the crime. And according to those autopsy reports, there is none. The victims have not even been undressed…" She spoke, but he interrupted her again.

"Or they might have been re-dressed by the UnSub…" Rossi suggested one more time. He had already figured that Angela liked playing games, so now toying with her was _his_ favorite game.

"All three victims were found with the clothes they had been last seen wearing, as stated in their missing persons reports. Also, stab wounds on victims two and three have pieces of fiber deep into the wound, matching the exact piece of clothing they were found wearing, when the bodies were discovered, and it matches the one on the report." Angela said confidently.

"Watch out, Pretty Boy. We now have Baby Genius on the team." Luke whispered to Reid while Angie spoke.

"Good. It was about time someone came in to challenge my intellect." Reid smirked. He did not mind having a younger person on the team, one who had the will and the power to establish herself as a great Agent and to work side by side with them.

"What about his trigger? Why the huge gap between kills?" Everyone kind of let Rossi play with his new favorite toy. They could tell he was getting a kick out of it.

Emily, for one, was now sitting comfortably in her chair, with her back rested comfortably and her hands on the armrests, enjoying every second of this show.

"Oh, Sir…I do not have the foggiest idea." Angela said honestly.

Rossi took a moment to interpret that. So far, Angie had been so sure of herself and she defended her opinion when she believed in it. And yet, she was not afraid to back down and admit it when she didn't know something. Rossi had seen so many people getting burned through the years, while trying to push their opinions or to form an opinion, when in reality they had no clue what was going on. So, he had to admit to himself that he quite liked the fact that Angela was honest with the team, instead of inventing herself a theory, just to sound like she knew what was going on. He found that refreshing. Also, her choice of words was rather strange and it had made a few team members chuckle quietly.

"Possible motive?" Rossi was fixated on making her sweat.

Angie leaned forward and checked a few items on the table. She re-read the police reports and some information on the victims, trying to form an opinion.

"Victimology?" Rossi poured yet another question at her, seeing as she took a while to think of an answer. He figured she needed a push into the right direction, even if his words were, once again, intentionally misleading.

"Well, that is up to us to investigate and come up with." She said calmly, shutting down his game. "Uh, I mean _you_ – it is up to _you_ guys." She added lamely and she sounded just like Emily who would randomly blurt out something embarrassing and then try to mask it up by saying something even more embarrassing instead.

Had she said anything else, Rossi would have been disappointed. They were never able to determine a motive without a thorough victimology dive first. He knew he was tricking her with those questions, but he had to make sure she could handle herself in a professional situation, while not having the right answer. And she handled herself brilliantly, for someone who had only a few weeks of Academy behind her back.

"May I?" Emily smirked, wanting to play with Angela as well.

"All yours." Rossi said, figuratively tossing Angela back to her rightful owner, for the week.

"Angela Hunter, you mentioned the lack of a sexual component, but to some the stabbing itself represents the sexual component." Emily pointed out.

"Yes, it does. However, it would not fit with the profile – him being organized, sexually competent and satisfied in his own personal life where he might also be married. Also, the stabbing here points to a violent outburst, a downpour of repressed aggression, accumulated over a long period of time. The big cooling off period affirms that. Something must be happening in his life, making him suddenly unable to resist the urge to kill. And if a knife is his weapon of choice, he must have one on him at all times, pointing to his possible career, involving knives or just blades, in general." Angela showed absolutely no sign of being intimidated by Emily.

On the contrary – she was now more easygoing as she spoke, in comparison to how she had replied to Rossi, all prim and professional. It almost felt like Emily was fueling a fire inside of Angela, one that made her light up and just speak her mind freely.

Emily bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile. She tilted her head sideways, looking straight in Rossi's eyes, as if to affirm his opinion on Angela.

"Also, call me 'Baby' one more time, I dare you…" Out of the blue, Angie turned to Luke, shutting down that comment he had dared to make about her, just a minute ago.

"Dude, you got burned!" Matt smirked in Luke's face, making him feel even crappier.

The team then took the lead and discussed things from their point of view, with all the years of experience they all had.

The profile they finally came up with was almost identical to what Angela had suggested earlier, with some additions.

"Wheels up in thirty!" Emily stated and everyone disappeared from the meeting room, gathering their Go Bags and getting ready for the trip.

"Come on, I'll drive you back to your Campus. It's on the way." Emily put her hand on Angela's shoulder, urging her to leave faster, now that the chill dynamics of the day had been turned around for everyone.

Angie frowned. There was so much pain on her face. Her week of learning had barely even started and yet, it had just come to an end. The team was now off to another city for who knows how long. She had so many expectations for this week. She wanted to spend time with them, to learn from Emily, to feel like she was part of something. And as soon as she got a taste of her best life, it all came crashing down.

Emily's heart broke a little bit, seeing Angie so visibly upset. That girl clearly had no idea what Emily had in store for her.

After Emily made a quick stop at her office, grabbing her Go Bag, they went to the parking lot and Angie was awfully quiet.

Emily had tried to put her hand on Angie's shoulder, to give her some sort of comfort, but the girl had shrugged it off instantly. She _really_ was not a fan of physical contact, at all.

"Okay, here we are." Emily said with a smile as she pulled up in front of Angie's dorms.

"Thank you for everything, Emily Prentiss…" She started off, intending on being nice and emotionally detached, while giving a small speech on how much she had already learned from this woman, in less than a day.

"Save the sob speech for the plane." Emily pointed to the entrance of the dorm room building. "Come on. Don't take too long."

Angie snapped out of her misery instantly. Did she hear 'plane'?

"Clothes, toothbrush, hair bows, extra pair of shoes and Rossi's book." Emily winked at Angie, enlisting all the important things she knew Angie would love to have on the trip.

"Are you for real?" Angie questioned, with her jaw now hanging loose, looking like a complete fool.

"Oh girl, I'm the realest!" Emily kept on smiling. She even let her inner Diva come out as she replied with the attitude of an A-lister, flipping her hair with one hand.

It felt so good to have been the reason to turn that frown upside down. Angela was much prettier when smiling.

"Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. Oh my God. Cool!" Angie squealed while running down the hallway like a crazy person.

Emily could hear her all the way from the car and her heart was full of joy.

"BRYAN, I'M GOING TO NEW YORK WITH THE BAU!" Angela yelled at the top of her lungs, kicking the door open and grabbing her gym bag while scanning the room for her basic necessities. The first thing she grabbed was Rossi's latest bestseller, which she had only read eleven times so far, so it was basically brand new, according to Angela's book standards.

"What about the obligatory classes?" Bryan asked while packing his own bag.

"When Emily Prentiss asks you to join her team on a private jet, you don't have the time to think of those more pressing issues in your life." Angie laughed, coming to the realization that Dan had never authorized the Trainees to travel.

"You sound more obsessed with that woman, than I am." Bryan pointed out, stuffing two pairs of jeans in his bag.

"I might just be. She's kind of okay. I dunno, I'm still trying to figure her out." Angie said while sticking random things in her bag. "Where are you off to?"

"Field trip. The Unit I'm following this week is going to LA for an assignment and they asked me to go." He replied quickly while searching for socks.

"Living our best lives!" Angie chirped, sounding absolutely in love with what was happening to both of them.

Bryan had managed to follow a SWAT Agent, which was what he wanted to do all along. And Angie was not mad about her last minute choice of an Agent either. Sometimes fate works in mysterious ways.

"Be safe." She gave him a hug and darted out the door.

"You too." He replied, wrapping his arms around her briefly, now that she was finally allowing him to get this close to her, before she slipped out and ran off.

* * *

"_That's_ the BAU jet?" Angie pointed at a plane when they got to the airport.

"Mhm." Matt replied to her, while munching on a sandwich he had just bought at the bar in the waiting lounge.

"Awesome!" Angie whispered to herself.

"Now, Angela Hunter, while you are coming as part of this team, there are also restrictions and rules you have to follow." Emily knew that at some point she'd have to crush Angie's enthusiasm a little bit.

"I know. I'm not an Agent and I cannot carry a gun or use any weapon, force or execute any type of authority. All actions of mine are unprotected by the Bureau and I can end up in court if I get reckless. I shall never disobey a direct order from _any_ member of your team and I shall never approach witnesses, conduct interviews or express opinions. Also, I must never give out any kind of information, regarding the investigation. Don't worry, I'm really good at acting dumb and making people believe I don't even have the answer to their questions." Angie shrugged and it seemed like she was okay with these arrangements.

"Something along those lines…" Emily affirmed.

"How do you even know all of that?" Tara was curious to know.

"Clara repeated the briefing for the case I had with the IRS, two times." Angie saw confusion in the eyes of pretty much everyone.

"Oh, sorry. I meant Agent Seger." Angie cleared it up.

"The IRS case?" Rossi pointed out the part of her sentence that had confused them.

"Mhm. I went on a case with them in Cuba a week ago." She said casually, as if it wasn't a big deal at all.

"I'd hate to see her get purloined by the IRS…" Reid leaned in and whispered to Rossi who was sitting next to her.

"Yeah, tell me about it…" He replied, followed by a sigh.

"Good, now that Angela Hunter knows where she stays with the BAU…" Emily changed the conversation back to the rules.

"Agent Jareau, same thing applies to you." Emily added coldly.

Her words made Tara gasp out loud. Nobody had ever expected Emily to be so harsh with JJ. If anything, they expected her to tolerate JJ's behavior.

Emily, however, had to distinguish between her friendship and her professional relationship with her best friend.

"The two of you are _consulting_ on this case, meaning that you are staying behind if the team needs to make a move and be on the field." Emily kept on speaking and nobody dared utter a word.

JJ looked at her for a second, with that _'Are you freaking kidding me!?'_ look on her face, but when she realized Emily was not joking, she looked away and tried not to show just how irritated she was to have been scolded and treated like a Trainee, in front of the whole team. Then again, she had acted out against Emily, in front of the whole team, so this seemed like a fitting punishment.

Emily held her hand out to JJ and awaited.

"Your gun, Agent Jareau." Emily specified what she was waiting for.

JJ kept quiet while she took the gun from its holster and put it in Emily's hand.

"We are ready for boarding." Someone came over at that moment and made the announcement that gave everyone the perfect excuse to leave this tensed up circle and get on their way to the jet.

* * *

"She'll come around." Reid whispered to JJ, daring to sit on the empty seat next to her.

"Mhm." JJ replied, but she seemed to be elsewhere at that moment.

"JJ, what's going on with you?" Poor Reid tried to initiate a conversation.

"I'm fine." JJ shut him down and started reading the files about the investigation so far.

"Pretty boy?" Luke called out for Reid and he put his arm around Reid's shoulder as soon as he walked to the back, where Luke, Matt and Tara were, as usual, getting up to no good, playing poker.

"We need you to supervise, in case someone is cheating." Luke explained the reason why he had called Reid to join them.

Reid, however, kept glancing over to where JJ was now sitting, all alone.

"Come on, man. Give her some space. She'll let us back in as soon as this blows over." Luke could not keep quiet anymore. The reason why he had called Reid was to give him an excuse to leave JJ's side. His heart could not take the sight of Reid, being upset, sitting next to his best friend, who was shutting him off.

"But I hate seeing JJ upset and not being able to do anything about it." Reid pouted and decided it was a smarter option to act like he was okay during the poker game, rather than to try and explain to his team why JJ meant so much to him.

* * *

During the entire flight, Angela was glued to Emily's side. They both sat quietly, occasionally exchanging the documents they were reading. There was a certain unison between them. Rossi noticed that, as he had the habit of keeping an eye on Emily when she was being weird. And lately, 'weird' did not even start to explain what Emily was.

Angela would read a file and then flip it over to the first page before slipping it across the table, while Emily would finish reading a report and tuck it into its paper folder before handing it to Angela, it hanging above the paper that Angela was now giving her. Like they had the unspoken agreement that Angela would slip it on the table, while Emily would always hand it on top. They must have done this exchange at least five times and neither of those times had they bumped into each other. It was always one swift motion, a quick exchange, in silence.

"Tout bon?" Emily asked at some point.

"Tout bon!" Angela nodded.

Yes, everything was more than okay. And yes, Emily speaking French was the cutest thing Angela had ever heard.

* * *

"We are going through some light turbulence, so you need to put your belts on and sit tight. It should be over in a few minutes." The pilot said on the loudspeaker at some point.

Rossi was a bad flyer. He started praying to God and making his Italian gestures of divine appraisal.

Angie found the strength to unglue herself from Emily, only to go sit next to Rossi instead.

Everyone knew that he hated turbulence and he wanted to be left alone, to freak out and sulk in silence. Angela was not going to give him this privilege.

The plane started shaking and everyone was now placing the taps back on their water bottles and securing their cups of coffee, to prevent spilling.

Angie was studying Rossi's face while his eyes were closed. He looked terrified.

"Don't worry. We're not going to die today." She said to him.

"I wish I was as convinced as you are." Rossi replied shortly.

"I am! It would be really dumb if our plane crashed before I even got that gun and badge. Like…seriously!?" Angie rolled her eyes and started making funny faces as she spoke in an overdramatic manner.

"Ha, I'm not the luckiest girl in the world, but I'm not a complete loser, either. I'd like to believe God has better plans for me. I once had a dream where an UnSub shot me. Phew, he really blew my brain off with that gun…" She realized that this was hardly a bright enough topic, to make Rossi take his mind off of death.

"Anyway, I've studied way too hard to not get to my own graduation. I want to wear something with glitter. Ha, that would make people laugh! I also know exactly which bow I'm going to have up in my hair when I'm handed my two babies."

"Two babies?" Rossi was confused. Weren't they just talking about graduation?

"Yeah, my gun and my badge!" Angie pointed out. "That would be the sweetest moment ever. Although, I guess I've dreamed about it for way too long and I might have set my expectations super high, so now I'm mentally preparing myself for a boring graduation, because nothing would be as good as how I've imagined it. Yeah, surely there won't be cupcakes with pink glitter toppings and lollipops in the shape of guns. Don't ask. I'm a weirdo with some pretty specific and weird taste. But it's okay. You'll get used to it. I'm actually kind of cool to hang out with."

Angie kept on talking about whatever things that came to her mind. She just did not want to stop.

Weirdly, Rossi listened to everything quite intently.

"When I was a kid, I drew a gun on my desk at school. Jesus, my teacher sent me to the shrink faster than anything. She thought I had psychopathic tendencies, that's what she said. She never even asked me why I drew a gun. Damn, I wish she could see me now! I mean, okay, I don't actually own a gun…legally…yet. But you know what I'm saying, right?"

"Yes, Garcia." Rossi laughed as he replied to Angie, calling her Garcia because that random downpour of weird information sounded just like something Garcia would say. Except that she'd be raving about kittens instead.

Rossi was now relaxed in his seat and giving his full attention to the human hurricane that Angela was.

"When I was a kid, I tried to skateboard with the boys. I faceplanted immediately and then all the boys laughed at me…" She pouted.

"Do I even want to know how you handled that situation?" Rossi questioned.

"I don't know. Are you prepared to hear the story of a nine year old girl kicking the ass of a ten year old and his eleven year old chubby brother?"

"You did not!" Rossi burst out laughing.

"Oh, I did! Nobody messes with Angela Hunter!" She smirked contently.

"You're a tough one, aren't you?" Rossi kept on laughing.

Meanwhile, Tara had filled the empty seat next to Emily, now that Matt had destroyed both her and Luke on poker. Reid was in the back, with a book in his hands and JJ was still an outcast, on her own.

"Rossi looks alive…during turbulence!" Tara pointed out in disbelief, watching him laugh and enjoy some small talk with the new girl.

"Yeah, it's a miracle." Emily said, leaving a folder on the table in front of her and paying more attention to Rossi. It was _her_ turn to keep an eye on him now.

"I don't know where this lil' one came from, but I like her. And you know me – I rarely ever like humans." Tara laughed at herself.

"Seriously, you are the most antisocial person I know. You'd lay under your vintage car all day, every day, if you could." Emily laughed as well.

"Oh, that sounds lovely." Tara loved spending time on her own. After the long hours on the job, all she needed was peace and quiet and she had no problem coming off as antisocial. She never started new friendships anymore.

"Seriously. I wonder what she's saying to keep his mind off of…Oh God, _this_!" Tara ended her sentence, holding the armrests as the plane suddenly dropped some height.

At a moment like this one, Rossi would be curved into a ball. But looking at him now, Emily saw him laughing.

"She's something else, alright…" Tara pointed out one more time.

The whole team had attempted to get through Rossi, numerous times during flights, and he'd always shut them down.

Angela did not seem to have a problem with communication.

"Please take your seats. We will be landing shortly." The pilot said on the loudspeakers again.

"Wait…already? What about the turbulence?" Rossi was confused.

"Oh, we're done with it." Angie smiled.

It took him a moment to realize that what had felt like a second of initial turbulence, had actually lasted for a few minutes, during which time Angela was able to get his mind off of it by blabbing about…he did not even remember half of it already.

"Grazie." He thanked her in Italian, not even being mad about the fact that she had surely profiled him as a chicken.

"Prego." She replied, also in Italian, giving him a tiny wink and regretting that instantly. What if that got read as an advance? What if it was weird?

He didn't mention the wink and it did not get weird.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"rmpcmfan"** The JJ/Angie dynamics _will_ be explored further. Keep in mind JJ is going through a lot of personal stuff at the moment, so she's being a bit off. She just needs someone who knows how to handle her in such a situation, to bring her back to being the JJ we all know and love. Does JJ know Angie? She sure felt this way, but maybe it was flashbacks from when she was drunk and Angie helped her in the bar bathroom? | Angie was at a fragile age when the Italy thing happened - a relationship left her wondering why do people even have to be in a relationship at all! | Bella? What makes you make the parallel? I'm tempted to add in another Bella flashback soon hehe! | Emily knows she must be tough with JJ, it's the only way to get through to her and maybe, just maybe, Emily's approach would be the right one *wink*.

**"sweetkid45"** JJ has a lot of personal stuff going on right now. By keeping to herself, she came out rude towards the new girl in the group. And maybe you're also a bit right about the jealousy part, too, but not in a bad, vicious way :)!

**"Natasha36" **Hi Natasha :) I'm so happy to hear from you again. Glad you're enjoying the mystery. In a very complicated way Angela Hunter and Emily Prentiss have to figure each other out and build something from scratch. Angie is struggling with wanting to do so, but not wanting to let anyone in. Emily is struggling with the possibility of leaving/disappointing someone that she has NO doubts she _wants_ to let in, willingly. So yeah, they have a lot to learn _about_ each other, but also to learn about themselves _through_ each other! Hehe, you've continuously been a supporter of the theory that Angie and Emily know each other or are connected somehow! That's cool! Keep looking for clues to support your theory or maybe to build a new one...who know what will happen *wink*. I can tell you that "Angela" had to meet "Emily" and build something with her from scratch, not knowing what this "Prentiss FBI Boss Lady" was all about - how she thought, acted, what she wanted from life, etc. I'm sorry I'm always vague, hehe, but I don't want to spoil anyone's fun when it comes to future reveals :P I want to allow everyone to enjoy the read and have them try to untangle the mystery themselves. :) As for the letter: trust me, JJ knows how to handle Emily in such a delicate situation. Very soon you will learn about it! Maybe JJ has already acted on it...just wait to see HOW. For now, it's Emily's turn to prove whether she can handle a fragile JJ well...you already saw her lash out on JJ and you will learn why Emily did it and what exactly is bothering JJ lately (in the next few chapters). Thank you so much for reviewing again. I appreciate each one of my reviewers! I hope you're safe and well :)!

**"Ducksdragonfly" **Wow, your review makes me proud of my little creation and of the hours of hard work. You have no idea how much thought I put into this, so the web of secrets will make sense in the end. A LOT is going on right now and the readers are COMPLETELY unaware! You all see the surface, but the real story is right there - you just don't have the right clues, so you can decipher it yet. If you want to re-read the story, I will advice you to do it later on, when you know more about Angie, so that when you read from the start, you'd find out you're reading a completely different story (at least I hope so, this is my goal!). I myself love reading things that then slap you in the face with something and you realize you have had it all wrong so far. (I'm a geek, okay? Hehe). Now to brush up on your personal thoughts/questions:

***** My only ship is connected to Emily, she needs love! And it has to do more with the psychological exploration of her thoughts and feelings, right now. Everyone else has their loves, with Garcia now dating this (oc) Desmond guy and Luke being recently single, but I focus only on Emily and her friendships and feelings for Richard. I like a mix of work, crime, love, drama, and a lot of mystery!

***** SECRETS are the base of this entire story! Not even "bad" secrets, just VERY personal ones, plus the inability to connect to people. I do like the psychological side of this mess and I believe people can help each other out, not tear each other apart (I mean, look at the world we live in - we need fiction and action against injustice!). I keep mentioning psychology - something VERY deep is going on right now and once you learn what it was all along, you'll possibly feel bad for one of the characters, or you may even admire their strength through this whole thing. It is **draining** more than one character, right now.

***** I've had a comment before, saying my characters aren't cardboard cutouts. That's so cool to hear! It's challenging to make a character alive, in writing, especially an OC. Thank you :)!

***** Richard and Angie? You mean Richard and Bella? I've written a series of Richard/Bella flashbacks and I'll insert them when the time is right. I'm very tempted to insert them now, but I don't want them to take away from (or confuse) the Angie/Monkey story, with their own flashbacks.

***** The Ambassador comes to play later on. She may have a big role in Emily's trust/connection issues and there may be a flashback that may make you bawl your eyes out (I hope!). I may have re-read that flashback a thousand times, myself! I can't wait for everyone to read it, because it is HUGE! But that won't be too soon.

***** Angie's Italy issue is NOT connected to Rossi in any type of way. In this sense, it is a pure coincidence that he is Italian. However, Rossi may play a direct-or-indirect role into Angie's obsession with criminology and he may or may not even know it! She does crave his recognition, but for all the different reasons (platonic! There is **NO** sexual component to Angie's connections to Emily, Clara, Rossi, Bryan, Dan...)

***** Angie believes profiling is her calling and feels insanely motivated to do that, and no other job in the world. She does not believe it can help her with her own issues, but she believes she is good enough (and wants to learn more!) to help out other people, who need it.

***** Hmm, in a way, yes - joining the BAU would speak volumes, to Monkey. But Angela does it purely for herself, with NO ulterior motive! Her issues with Monkey will soon deepen before she takes the final decision on how to handle that situation.

***** Good catch about the glitter! So far the readers are supposed to have figured out Angie is not an airhead who rambles all the time, loves pink and glitter and wears bows, like an idiot. They serve a purpose and yes, they are connected to the idea of "childhood" and "innocence". It will be more clear when you find out something new about Angie, that has to deal with her childhood.

Ops, this was a LONG reply to your review, **"ducksdragonfly",** but I needed to be exhaustive :) Thank you for the wonderful review and for your continuous support!


	98. Can I Marry Her?

** CHAPTER 98**

_**CAN I MARRY HER?**_

The team had walked in the police station an hour ago, so they were now updated on everything and ready to set up their own lair.

Emily had requested a work space in the Bureau's NYC field office, as she liked doing the job in an official FBI building, when possible and necessary. Police officers would pop by occasionally and the team would still go back to the police station, but their official workspace would be the FBI building.

"Well, if that ain't SSA Prentiss herself!" A man, about Emily's age, greeted her when he saw her walk down the hallway, towards their assigned meeting room.

"Oh God, not now!" Emily muttered to herself, while she kept walking and tried to ignore the familiar voice she heard coming from behind her.

"Oh, Prentiss, got yourself a fan out here." Luke teased her, because it wouldn't be him if he didn't.

"And he's a bit of an eye pleaser." Tara added, checking out the man who was now hurrying to catch up with them.

"Fan? More like a stalker." Emily replied to Luke first, with that signature one and a half eye roll of hers.

"Hmm, that's what you think of it before you've…" She then tried to reply to Tara, but decided not to go there. It would be too much information. "Just, nevermind. Ignore him. He'll go away…"

"Emily, hey!" The man was now dangerously close to them, to the point where she was no longer able to ignore his existence.

"Oh, hey there." She said lamely.

"What's bringing you here?" He asked.

"I heard the Yankees are playing."

"Yankee fan?"

"No, Stanley, I'm obviously here on a case." Emily rolled her eyes one more time.

Tara started to realize why Emily was not a fan of this man. He did not get Emily's jokes.

"Oh. Right." He muttered.

The team started to walk into their new work space and they gave them some privacy to talk.

"Look, about last time, I-…" Stanley started to excuse himself for something, but Emily was not having any of it.

"Don't!" Emily interrupted him immediately.

"Can I make up for it by offering you dinner?"

"I don't know. Are you still married?" Emily bit back harshly.

"No. And this time it's the truth."

"I'm not interested, Stanley. Let's keep it professional." Emily felt the urge to shut him down from the get go.

"Uh, okay. Professional is good. I mean, I'm the local Agent that's been assigned to your team." He stated and Emily remembered one of the conditions she had been asked to accept, if she wanted a temporary office in NYC – one of their own would be assigned to her team.

"Of course you are…" She trailed off, because if she hadn't she would have let him know just _how_ that made her feel. And she might have reached for her gun, too.

"Prentiss?" Matt called out for her from the office and she hurried inside, now with a legit reason to leave that man behind.

Luckily for her, he had some errands to run before he'd officially join the team.

"Simmons, you and I are going to be best friends for life!" Emily stated the moment she walked in and closed the door firmly behind her. Emily had always appreciated Matt and his compassion, but now that he extracted her from an awkward situation she was even more grateful to know him and to have him by her side.

"We've all been there." Tara pat Emily's shoulder, thinking of her own little stunt, years ago, with a man who had also turned out to be married.

"I haven't!" Reid raised his hand.

"Me neither." Angie mirrored his actions.

"Good. Keep it that way." Emily laughed it off and busied herself setting everything up.

By the time they finished, it had already been dark for a while. Everyone was tired, as they never got the chance to relax on the plane and ever since they had landed, work was their priority. They had learned a bit more about the victims and they had made sure they had everything they needed, including a printer, inside their new office.

"Reid, you might want to lay off on the coffee. We're wrapping it up here and going to the hotel. It's been a long day, we need to rest." Emily said, watching Reid reach for a cup.

"Angela, you might have chosen the wrong field office with us, in Quantico. They have a coffee machine out here in New York and it's actually good." Tara laughed at the irony of their field office undergoing budget cuts while the NYC people seemed to be living it up.

"Oh no, Dr. Lewis, I belong at Quantico." Angie said confidently and it didn't go unnoticed by Rossi, who was now following her every move with his eyes.

"You know, you may not be into cars, but you calling me _Dr._ Lewis just made you my favorite teammate!" Tara smiled and tried to touch Angie's shoulder. It was a gesture the team did often, they were comfortable with each other and they appreciated a good shoulder pat from time to time.

Angie, however, moved away in a manner that wouldn't look rude. She pretended to duck at the same time, tying her perfectly tied shoes, once again.

"Lewis, can we walk to the hotel or do we need cabs?" Emily asked.

Ever since the budget cuts, it had been Tara's job to book the hotels when they traveled. She enjoyed using her old travel agent skills when it came to bargaining a good deal.

"It's not too close, but it would take us more time to try and get a cab in this city. It sucks that we are only allowed to borrow the Bureau car starting from tomorrow. I hate New Yorkers!" Tara said while gathering her stuff from where she had laid it on a table earlier. Her tablet was there, along with her phone and a small bottle of water.

Emily then decided on walking. Nothing could happen in New York City, after midnight, to a bunch of FBI Agents.

"Oh, I love New York!" Angie spoke first, as soon as they hit the streets.

"It's dirty, cold in the winter, always overcrowded and people are rude. What's to love about it?" Tara murmured. She really disliked that place.

"The big city vibe, the mess, the crowds, the lights…look, everything looks so…magical!" Angie pointed at the Empire State Building as they walked.

"Plus, New Yorkers know music like nobody else!" Angie added.

"Okay, can I marry her!?" Luke was walking one step behind Angie and he was enjoying her every word, being a New York native himself.

"No!" Emily slapped his shoulder, as she was walking right behind him.

"Keep walking!" Emily then added grumpily.

Luke started laughing along with Matt. Emily sure was protective over that girl.

* * *

"Oh yey, normal beds!" Reid was more than happy when he entered the hotel room.

In the boys' room there was one bunk bed, surely for Luke and Matt and two normal beds for Reid and Rossi. Tara had made damn sure those were the room arrangements. She did not want to hear a single theory on bed safety, coming from Reid, ever again.

As the girls walked in their room, Emily sighed with relief.

"Lewis, you're a life saver!" Emily spotted two king size beds.

Originally, the girls were going to be three. But now that Angela had joined them, Tara was happy that she had overbooked. In reality, she wanted Emily to have her own bed, but that was no longer happening.

"Okay, draw a straw for the beds?" Tara suggested.

Emily looked around. JJ had not said a single word, to anyone, had it not been strictly related to the case. And Emily has had enough of JJ's tantrums.

"You know what? How about the two of you…" She pointed at Tara, tossing JJ over to her, willingly. In any other occasion Emily and JJ would have shared a bed, they would have _fought_ to share a bed. But not today.

"And you and Mini Prentiss?" Tara continued that thought. It would only seem fitting, since it was Angela's job to follow Emily everywhere.

"That's if you don't mind. I'm sorry, but budget cuts hit us hard and it is what it is right now…" Emily pointed at the two beds and the four people in the room. This was far from ideal.

"Oh, I don't mind at all. I'm cool with anything." Angie shrugged and seemed completely unmoved by the sleeping arrangements.

"You should know, Emily steals the covers all the time." Tara laughed and everything seemed light and fun, until Emily laid eyes on JJ.

"Agent Jareau?" Once she grabbed her attention, she motioned towards the terrace.

JJ walked out willingly, but still quiet.

They sat on two chairs outside, further apart, as if they were distancing themselves from one another.

Tara felt extremely awkward, knowing that Emily was about to go off on her best friend, so she opted for another game of poker in the boys' room instead.

Angie followed her, but she had something else on her mind.

That left Emily and JJ in perfect privacy. And that was not a good thing, for JJ.

"Are you going to ice me out and treat me like 'Agent Jareau'?" JJ broke the silence, indirectly confirming how upset she was to have been called that, all day long.

"That depends." Emily kept looking at her coldly. "Are you going to continue pushing me out and treating me like crap?"

"I haven't-…" JJ had to know better than to try and deny what Emily had just said. She found herself interrupted immediately, with the Prentiss dragon breathing down her neck.

"You haven't!? Oh, please JJ! Yes, you have! You made it painfully clear that I am not your friend Emily, so I treated you like your boss Prentiss. And even then, you made a fool out of me, in front of the whole team, ignoring a direct order, as if I was joking when I told you to take the day off. Well, I wasn't! I have enough crap on my plate right now and I cannot find myself pushing my limits and begging you to confide in me, like my friend JJ always does. If you don't want to be her, then I am no longer Emily to you. And you need to learn how to obey your superiors. Had it been _anyone_ else, your ass would be suspended right about now, is that clear!?"

JJ stood immobile. There hadn't been many times when Emily had scolded her like that, the same way JJ scolded Henry and Michael when they had been naughty. It made JJ feel absolutely subordinate and powerless, in front of Emily's motherly-like figure.

Yes, Emily was doing it all out of love and JJ knew that.

But still, it hurt so much to have put herself in that situation.

"Is that clear, Agent Jareau!?" For some reason, Emily lost it. She yelled that question at JJ when her previous attempt got rewarded with silence.

"Yes, it is clear, Agent Prentiss." JJ knew better than to piss off an already pissed off Emily.

"Good!" Emily kept her voice raised and she felt the urge to keep on yelling at JJ. However, she tried to refrain from doing so.

She had noticed the moment that Tara and Angie had silently put their go bags on the beds and had disappeared from the room. There was no longer need to stay outside on the balcony and freeze, so Emily motioned for JJ to get back inside the room.

JJ noticed that sweet, motherly gesture of Emily's – apparently even while blowing up in her face, Emily still felt the need to protect her, even if it was just from the wind outside.

Finding it extremely hard to come up with words - ones that were not insults, Emily decided to ice JJ out again. She gave her the cold shoulder and busied herself, unpacking.

JJ sat on the edge of the bed that she was now going to share with Tara, and kept her eyes on Emily, who, in turn, did not even glance at JJ.

"Michael broke his hand…" JJ finally spoke, tone above a whisper.

"What?" Emily instantly faced the person who had felt a lot more like JJ now.

"Yeah."

"How? When? Oh, poor little thing." Emily was still pissed and that revelation did not excuse JJ's behavior all day, but that anger was now accompanied by a pain in Emily's chest.

"The night I got hammered and stayed with you." JJ shrugged.

"But…no…this can't be true. I spoke to Will…he didn't mention a thing." Emily thought back of that night. It was when Will had treated her like crap on the phone.

"He was in the ER with Henry and Michael, waiting for the cast." JJ sounded odd.

"Seems to me like you're only telling me parts of the real story…" Emily pointed out.

"I didn't want to tell you _anything_…"

"JJ, your child spent the night at the ER and walked out of there with a cast!? Which part of that did you not want to tell me?

"I didn't even know it was happening."

"What? Seriously? I kind of assumed this was the reason why you drank. But no, it would make no sense then – why would you stay with me instead of going to the hospital?" Emily thought out loud.

"JJ, what the Hell happened?" She asked, hoping she'd get an answer.

JJ only shrugged and looked away once again.

Emily lost it for the third time that day. However, this time she did it with love. She sat next to JJ, on the bed, holding her chin with one hand and almost forcing her to look at her.

JJ did not move. She resisted Emily's hand as it tried to make her face her.

"JJ?" Emily was now scared. Why would JJ shut her off like that? She never had.

The only time JJ had hidden bad stuff from Emily had been during her healing period in Paris, after Ian Doyle. And that had only been to protect Emily and to not cause her any more emotional pain, on top of what she was already feeling, plus the physical pain as well.

And that only lead Emily to one logical conclusion…

"Oh, God, ChayChay…" Emily gasped. "It was _you_!?"

It finally hit her, she finally knew who had taken the letter. Thinking back, a day after the dinner party that JJ had begged Emily to host at her home, Emily had accidentally found Richard's letter underneath a cushion on one of the kitchen chairs. She remembered how freaked out she was when she realized that possibly during that dinner, someone from her team must have found the letter, read it and then left it under the seat. However, it didn't make sense – if they found it under the sofa, why leave it under a chair instead? Unless they were about to get busted by Emily, with the letter in hand, so they must have hidden it quickly and then must have forgotten to move it to the sofa. It was a mystery to Emily, but one that gave her a massive headache.

She had been walking on eggshells with the team ever after that dinner party, trying to figure out who knew her secret. Her mind was set on Rossi, mainly because she was aware of how much attention he had been paying her lately and how he always kept an eye on her, as if to be ready to help out if he saw her even wince at something. He had this wonderful characteristic of always being the compassionate one, the one who felt like he must help her, no matter what. But then again – Rossi didn't say a word, so Emily had continued her little investigation.

At different points during this week she had suspected different people from her team, but never…not even once, had she dared suspect JJ. She had been so quiet and acting normal, if anything – JJ had been a bit more reserved, because of everything that was going on in her own personal life at home. Emily would have never thought that the one who knew her secret was JJ.

JJ nodded guiltily.

"Oh, I'm kind of relieved it was not Rossi. Or Luke. Or Garcia, but she would have already told everyone about it, so that rules her out." Emily chuckled lightly. "How did you figure it had been hidden under a chair?"

"You mentioned something about someone who could kiss your ass. So I profiled that your best hiding place for a letter like that would be underneath the cushions." JJ confessed, trying not to incriminate Henry for accidentally taking that letter back to his home, leaving JJ speechless and in the need of a very good plan about how to sneak into Emily's home and return the letter, without raising suspicion. The dinner party had been a great excuse and she was glad Emily accepted to host it.

"Well, your profile was almost point on." Emily smirked. "I kept it under the cushions of the sofa in the living room, not the kitchen chairs. But still, I'm amazed at how your brain works and scared with how well you know me."

Emily could not help but smile. Agent Prentiss was now long gone. JJ was speaking to her friend Emily.

And that, once again, made Emily give her identity some thought. It seemed like she had always struggled with who she was. Lauren? Other names she had taken on? Emily? Prentiss? Why was it so hard to assume _one_ identity and stay with it? Was it even normal to feel like she was different people?

"ChayChay, I know you've done a lot for me lately and I know I've been slacking as Unit Chief and even as a friend, ever since the Cursed Case…"

"Please, stop calling it that!" JJ winced.

"Fine. My point is that I want you to always feel comfortable enough to come talk to me. I want to know what's going on in your life…"

JJ had way too much sadness in her eyes. It couldn't have been only because of Michael. She had already confessed about that, but Emily knew there were more secrets out there.

"ChayChay…" Emily moved her hand slowly until it rested perfectly comfortable, on top of JJ's.

"Henry's been bullied at school. Will basically called me a bad mother because I never saw the signs. It's been going on for a month now, so just about as long since we dealt with the Cursed Case." JJ started opening up.

"Woah! Henry!? But he's such a smart and sweet kid!"

"Exactly. The other boys started calling him names and calling him Mommy's Boy. The other day he flipped out and jumped two of the boys. The teacher said she had found him punching the crap out of the two elder boys, in the school's back yard, yelling at the top of his lungs that he's not Mommy's Boy and…" JJ's voice cracked a little and Emily knew that tears were about to roll.

"He also said he had barely even seen his mother lately…" There they were – hot, salty, streaming tears, as soon as JJ admitted that.

"Of course, the teacher only said that to Will, who decided to punish me and to keep everything from me and to experiment and see how long it would take me to figure it out. I mean, Henry came back from school with a huge blue bruise on his arm and he said it was from soccer. It was Tuesday, he doesn't go to soccer on Tuesdays. And I believed him…Emily, I did, I believed my son's lies and my son _wanted_ to lie to me, that's the worst part! My son doesn't think I love him enough to want to know what is going on in his life!"

"Wonder what _that_ feels like…" Emily could not help biting back, in regards to JJ's last statement.

This was exactly what had ticked Emily earlier – JJ not considering the fact that Emily loved her enough to want to know what was bothering her and why she was acting out like that.

"Well, point is – Henry got expelled. And the other day, the evening of your dinner party, he had been acting out at home and he accidentally pushed Michael, so he fell and broke his hand. And Will…" This time there was rage in JJ's eyes, enough rage to make her stop talking and take a breath before she would pass out from fury.

"I can't believe Will would do something like that!" Emily said, still caressing the top of JJ's palm.

"He had been calling me while I drove to your house, but I never use my phone while driving, so I never picked up. And as I parked downstairs, I got upset and I didn't want to call him back. I mean, we already had our problems, but they were just between the two of us. He just had to go and put the kids in the middle of our drama!"

Emily's free hand went up to JJ's face, sweeping the tears off her cheeks and caressing her softly.

"ChayChay, we all go through rough times. I'm sure you will figure it out…"

"I'm not sure I even _want_ to figure it out anymore…"

"Don't say that…"

"Well, I mean it…"

Both of them refrained from finishing their sentences. Instead, they'd both trail off and let the other one figure out the rest of it.

"Well, you are known to be a bit of a stubborn one, hard to handle, you know?" Emily smiled and held her hands out.

It took JJ less than a second to lean in and let Emily hold her. Emily could feel the wet tears on her shoulder, as JJ kept on sobbing. She could also feel every heartbeat, as JJ pressed firmly against her body. Like a child. Like a friend. Like someone who needed Emily to be there for her.

And Emily did not disappoint.

She let JJ take her time to cool down a bit. She had spoken way too fast and Emily was still unsure about the timeline of the events, but she was sure of one thing…

"I'll hold you until the last breath I take, ChayChay." She whispered to her best friend when she felt her shiver.

"I know. That's why I love you." JJ said weakly. "I'm sorry you got dumped. I could tell you were heartbroken, but I didn't know the specifics and I didn't want to upset you by asking something so personal."

"JJ, your marriage is on the line and you're worried about me being dumped by an idiot I only half dated for a few days? _That's_ why I love you!" Emily laughed. It was so typical of JJ to worry.

"I want nothing more but to see you happy, with a man that makes you happy."

"And I want the same for you, which is why I'm going to have a conversation with Will!"

"No, you're not!"

"Oh, yes I am! He cannot disrespect me like that. I've never said a mean thing about him, except for that Godawful accent of his. And yes, I want to threaten his life if he ever dares to disrespect my work wife like that again."

"No, you won't…" JJ laughed through tears, when Emily said she'd threaten her husband.

"Watch me!" Emily smirked and felt JJ peel off of her slowly. She had been glued to Emily for the longest moment. Maybe she finally felt calm enough to stand on her own.

"You are amazing, Emily."

"Why would you say that?"

"You don't even know how happy you make us, your team. You always put us first and that is why everyone feels comfortable to tell you their personal troubles. We can always count on you. We are so proud of you. I just wish you could see yourself through our eyes. Through _my_ eyes."

"I know…I know…" Emily gulped, feeling sad.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset. I'm just…realizing a few things, as we speak." Emily clarified.

In her head, she was analyzing situations from her past. Other people had claimed to love her, the way JJ did. And Emily had let them in and showered them with her unconditional love. Until she had bailed on them. She had her reasons, but compared to the eternity she had promised those people, the reasons were weak. Insignificant. Egoistic.

"She adores you…" JJ's words startled Emily.

"That girl. She acts all cool, but I can tell how much she appreciates being your Mini this week. She hit the jackpot with you. I mean, not many Trainees get to shadow a Unit Chief and travel to New York with a team, on a case." JJ elaborated.

"You were _so_ unwelcoming, by the way. I wouldn't be surprised if she shut you out." Emily scanned the room, looking for the mini bar. They could both use a drink.

"I know. I'll surely try to make it up to her." JJ finally found the strength to smile. "And please, no alcohol. I've made some poor decisions because of it lately."

"Fine then you can watch me drink. God knows I need some."

"You need some? Didn't you get 'some'?" JJ now smirked. Since the cat was out of the bag, she now wanted more information on Emily's mysterious ex-almost-sort-of-boyfriend.

Emily blushed. After pouring herself a generous glass of cold white wine, she took a big gulp and kept on blushing.

"Fine then. I wanted to tell you about him anyway, but it was just too fresh and I was too confused. His name is Richard and he's French. I met him in Paris, I spent the week there, wanting to see none of you crazy people around me. It was a bit weird, it felt like a fairy tale. He was smart and handsome and he had the most beautiful smile…" Emily started off and then continued telling JJ all the things they had experienced in Paris, and not only.

"You did _what_!?" JJ gasped at some point, hearing how Emily had slept in a hotel for a night, without paying, and nobody had figure it out.

"Yeah, I mean it was easy to figure out which room was empty. And it was late in the evening. We made sure we were up and out before the morning check by the maids."

"You snuck into a hotel room for the night!? Oh, Emily! Only you could get away with that!" JJ's tears were now gone and all that was left on her face were smiles and laughter.

"Mhm. And it was great."

"Wait, you mentioned a Jacuzzi. Please tell me you did…" JJ suggested cheekily.

"Nope."

"You didn't!?"

"Nope."

"But…it's pretty much what _everyone_ does in a Jacuzzi. Come on! Seriously?"

"Seriously. The Jacuzzi only saw some light action. Nothing fancy."

"Oh, is that so?"

JJ loved pushing Emily's buttons. Sometimes Emily would be an open book and other times she'd pretend to be all prim and proper, until JJ finally would extract all the good juicy information out of her, one way or another.

And right now, Emily was playing hardball.

"You can't expect me to believe _you_, out of all people, did not get _any_…for a whole week. With a hot French guy! You!?"

Emily shrugged. She was not going to give JJ a direct answer to that specific question.

"Ugh, fine! One day I'll know the truth. Promise me I'll be the first one to know the details!?"

"No doubt you will be. Although, Morgan has already heard it all. But then again, it was still fresh and I was a crying mess. Much like you were just now, in my hands. So, I'm not sure how much of my words he could make out clearly."

"Pretty sure Morgan would be able to catch sex-related details with amazing precision, even if he was deaf and you were speaking in Korean." JJ laughed.

"True. That man is…wow, I can't even believe he's a family man now. After all the shenanigans we've heard of and even witnessed him do!? Morgan? Ha!" Emily rolled her eyes. Fate was a weird thing. Ten years ago nobody would have imagined Morgan, changing diapers and going back home to a wife that he loved so much.

"Well, if _he_ could do it – _you_ can do it. I can picture Emily Prentiss as a wife. And a mother. You'd be a great mother-…"

"No, JJ, please don't start…" Emily tried to cut her off before she'd dive into another rant about Emily and kids.

"Why not? And please don't say you're too old for babies. I can't wait to see you, holding a little one-…"

"JJ, stop!" Emily flipped out a little bit, sounding as harsh as Agent Prentiss, the one who had initiated a conversation with JJ half an hour ago. This was an extremely touchy subject for Emily and as much as JJ had tried to ease her into discussing that, Emily always iced her out. There was so much about Emily that JJ did not know about. Nobody did. Rossi kind of heard some of it, years ago, but Emily hadn't felt comfortable enough to be completely honest with him, either.

"Okay. Okay…Sorry." JJ put her hands in the air in mock surrender and changed the baby topic. "I know it must hurt, the way it all ended, but you should be happy you had your time with him. He sounds like a wonderful man and please don't yell at me for saying that. I know you must have so much resentment for him right now, but looking at things from the outside, he sounds like just the kind of man I've always envisioned you to end up with."

"Yeah, me too…" Emily didn't even realize those words had escaped her lips.

"Ooh…" JJ mocked her, with a sweet little nudge. She had never heard Emily admit such a thing, it was new.

"Well, it's over now, so…yeah…" With those words Emily finished the rest of her wine in just two gulps.

"Yeah, but you see…he did write down his number…"

"No! I'm not calling him! End of discussion!" Emily was the hardest person to convince, so JJ decided to hit her with an answer to that when she least expected it.

"Now can you please stop making this all about me and maybe we can discuss Henry and Michael for a second?" Emily let her know that she was painfully aware that JJ had been avoiding that discussion, while focusing on Emily's failed love life instead.

"There isn't much else. I mean, it sounds so small, but it hurts so much. Mikey will be fine, the cast will only stay for twenty days. As for Henry - I'm looking for a new school. That's the errand I needed to run today at lunch, that's why I was so cold and distant. It's not easy to enroll a kid in the middle of the school year, after he had been expelled for fighting two boys."

"I would have never acted like a bitch to you, had you told me the truth." Emily sighed. She could still not believe JJ didn't feel comfortable enough to share that, with her.

"It's okay. I deserved it. And the team needs to know we have a tough ass for a Chief." JJ nudged Emily and then literally removed the bottle from her hand before she'd be able to pour herself another full glass.

"For the record, I cannot undo an order. You really are staying behind with Angela. Although I'd love to be able to bring her to the field. It would teach her some."

"Haha, she'd crumble into a ball, the second she sees blood. I just can't picture that cute little thing, discussing an autopsy or negotiating a hostage. What, she'd put sticky gems on her badge and bedazzle on her gun? I mean, she really is an awesome person, but I just don't see it…"

Emily laughed sincerely, hearing what JJ thought of Angela, so far.

"Remember those words, ChayChay." Emily challenged her.

"Also, if I can help in _any_ way, call me. Any day, any time. I'd be happy to take the kids for a day, if you and Will need some alone time." She added.

"Thanks, but right now I can barely look at Will and not hate him. I don't want alone time. I need some action on the field to help get my mind off the failure of a mother that I am."

"Say those last few words again and I'll give you some action!" Emily swayed her fists in the air, mockingly. She hated hearing JJ put herself down as a mother. "And I'm sorry, but you're not getting _any_ action during this case."

"Yeah, I'm okay with that. I'll try to get into Angela's good graces. She's funny, she'll keep me entertained."

"Uh-huh. Good luck with that." Emily smirked, already knowing there was no chance in Hell JJ could undo what she had done.

After that, they took turns to take a shower and they fell asleep immediately.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Your review opening line is always priceless :) Thank you so much! Lol Angie dumped everyone and everything in the matter of two seconds (or less!) when Emily said she could go with the team, hahaha. Dedication! Don't worry, Bryan will be part of Angie's life, he won't disappear, but he might not have huge storylines in the next bunch of chapters. Let's just say that when Angie chooses someone to be in her life, she would do **anything and everything** possible to keep them close! With Rossi she was well aware he seemed like a bad flyer, so she tried to come up with something to make him feel better (again, empathy). Hmmm JJ and Angie getting up to no good? I dunno...you'll see what happens with them very soon. Not everything could be perfect and not everyone actually likes Angie or rather - Angie doesn't let just anyone see the _real_ her, for whatever reason she might have.

**"sweetkid45"** Wait for it. Who said she is actually going to end up with the BAU? :) It would be too easy, like a fairytale. And I do like torturing my characters, lol! Yeah JJ got off way too easily and she knows it! Emily hates the part of her job where she needs to be stern with the people she loves, but she also understands that it is her responsibility to lead the team and to give out orders. And I suppose it sucked for Emily that JJ, out of all people, disobeyed her in such a brutal way. In this chapter (98) you learned a lot about JJ's problems and how Emily handled this situation further.

**"rmpcmfan"** Hey, Angie WANTS the BAU. Nobody said she's _getting_ it *evil grin*. Yes, the team has always loved interns and they enjoy having someone fresh and young around. But woah...JJ right now...that's a whole another story. Emily was obliged to act out on JJ's disobedience. As a friend she would have poured her some wine and called it a day. But as the Unit Chief she has to take action if she wants to be taken seriously in the FBI and not just like some woman who lets her friends do whatever they want, with no consequences. Who knows...maybe someone will some day notice Emily's integrity? Maybe it will get rewarded?

**"Natasha36"** I'm loving your determination to prove your theory right! Just remember that, while reading, some comments won't make much sense (YET!) to the readers, on the surface. Look for a hidden meaning...for a double sense...a play of words. If something sounds odd, I promise I wasn't drunk while writing it, lol, but it is rather a masked up clue that would only make sense to selected characters in the story - the ones who know Angie's secret! (Also, it may or may NOT be Emily. Just saying. I'm not confirming nor denying it). As for JJ - you have just finished reading the way she handled the "letter" situation (and there's more in depth conversations to come). JJ would never have dared contact Richard after he broke Emily's heart like that...or rather - she'd contact him to _find_ him and kill him off, LOL! And yeah, of course I appreciate reviews and the people who write them. I'm not a review-seeker, I never end a chapter asking for reviews "or else I won't post anymore". (I don't judge people who do it, I'm just saying _I personally_ don't). I let the people who REALLY want to review, do so. And that makes each line of your words sooo much more precious for me, because I know you did it out of your own free will and with good intentions :)!


	99. Prentiss Is Going To Kill Me!

** CHAPTER 99**

_**PRENTISS IS GOING TO KILL ME!**_

"Hey, guys. Can we come in?" Tara asked with a tiny smile when Rossi opened the door for her and Angie.

They both walked in and Reid frowned.

"Poor JJ…" He said quietly, knowing that at that very moment, a very angry Unit Chief was probably yelling at his best friend. He also knew that JJ deserved it, but that did not make him feel any better.

"You know, I have my own Dr. Reid, at the Academy." Angie sat next to him, trying to offer some peace and distraction.

"There is another genius at the Academy!? I mean, besides _you_?" He asked in disbelief.

"Oh, no. He's ex SWAT. He used to be David…and some number…" Angie chuckled. She would tease Bryan about that until her last day on this planet.

"A David? Lieutenant?" Matt sounded impressed. He knew the lingo.

"Sergeant, I think…I don't know. My point is, this guy – Bryan, is always there for me, since day one. And it really gives me the strength to keep going when things get rough. And lately, things have been hectic. Our schedules are insane, training gets harder and we get less and less sleep. I guess this week is Heaven sent to me, I get to have fun and to live a somewhat normal life and to meet cool new people like all of you…"

"She called us cool and normal!" Rossi smirked.

"Yeah, why?" Angie shot him a glance.

"Usually people think we are some sort of circus freaks who run on never ending batteries. They expect us to be superhuman and to have magic powers and healing abilities." Reid explained.

"Well, you guys kind of do." Angie's eyes darted back to Reid. "Growing up, I always knew that FBI Agents were real, normal people, but then I also saw them as…I don't know how to explain it…like Guardian Angels of some sort. You guys hunt serial killers on a daily basis and you have seen some of the most gruesome things in life, and yet you are so down to Earth and loving. You have friends, families, even kids. But to a child, you guys are real life superheroes. You know, the ones that really exist. You have no idea how inspiring that is, to a child." Angie was smiling, but Rossi could tell that she was smiling through pain.

"While this is very sweet of you to say, you _do_ realize it is kind of not normal for a child to look up to FBI Agents?" He challenged her.

"Oh, I've never been a normal kid. I'm okay with that. The other kids wanted to become Superman and ballerinas and all kinds of random things. As far as I know, none of them fulfilled their dreams when they grew up. And I've always wanted to be an Agent. I made sure I have the right education and training, so I'd be up to the Bureau's standards when the right time finally came."

"You also drew a gun on your desk at school…" Rossi remembered what she had told him on the plane.

"Yeah, but that was only because I was reading a book on automatic guns and I wanted to challenge myself and see if I can remember the specifics. And since we were doing some stupid test at school, which I had already finished filling in, I had no other piece of paper available, so I drew on the desk. With a pencil! I fully intended on erasing the drawing after that."

"Vandalism, with a heart of gold." Tara laughed, remembering her own high school days when she'd do so many stupid things and never had a backup plan to undo and erase the consequences, if possible.

"Why do you want to join the Bureau?" Rossi asked.

"Because I want to make sure less families suffer the consequences of gruesome attacks." This was the second time Angela had connected her FBI dreams to the word 'family'.

Rossi kept on looking at her and she knew he was reading her, so she had to be careful how much she opened up to him.

In any other occasion, Angie would have been comfortable with someone whose eyes were glued on her. But not now. She shifted and turned to look at Reid once more.

"My point from earlier was that your support and friendship must mean the world to JJ. So, try not to worry about her too much. I'm sure she's able to handle herself and if she isn't, then she'd undoubtedly search for your shoulder afterwards. At least that's my own experience with my own Dr. Reid. You might not be doing much right now, but _her,_ knowing that she has _you_, is support enough at the moment."

"Guys, is she real?" Reid asked his colleagues with a small voice before he did something unexpected and gave Angie a hug.

"Thank you so much for the kind words. You have been brought up well, young lady." His words made Angie frown a little, but she chose not to reply.

"Anyone hungry?" Matt broke the silence that followed.

"I saw a sign at the reception desk, the restaurant is open until two o'clock." Angie said.

"I would like a hot meal." Reid replied.

Rossi, Tara and Matt were also hungry.

Before Luke could offer his reply, Angie spoke.

"Oh, that's too bad. I eyed a cool pizza slice place on the way here and I wanted to go. But you know, I'm just a young girl, in New York City. Probably not the best idea for me to walk the streets on my own…"

"You're an FBI Agent!" Reid argued.

"Not yet!" Angie opposed with a smirk.

"Uh…I could use some fresh air. And pizza sounds way better than restaurant left over food at this hour anyway." Luke shrugged.

"Fine, then it's settled. See you guys in the morning." It took Angie two seconds to reach the door and to look back, as if she was urging Luke to hurry up.

Angie knew how to get what she wanted in life. She had made them feel guilty for leaving her on her own, out on the streets, at night, so Luke had offered to join her. That had only taken her a few words and a tiny smile. She wouldn't call herself a 'master manipulator', but she sure knew the art of being one, way too well.

"You are screwed, my man!" Matt whispered to his best friend before he saw him leave.

* * *

"Where's the pizza place?" Luke asked after a ten minute walk down a street he did not remember from earlier.

"Why? Are you really hungry?" Angie raised an eyebrow.

"Uh. Yes. Isn't that why we are out?"

Angie chuckled. He was quite slow, for a hot guy.

"Fine. Let's go get some pizza first." She gave up and caved in, feeling hungry herself.

"First?" Luke was now suspicious. "Why? What's second?"

"Oh, dear Luke. Curiosity killed the cat."

"Don't even mention that in front of Garcia. She'd flip out and carry out a memorial for that poor kitten." He laughed.

"I love Garcia! She's so much fun and she's so incredibly smart. I mean, you all are…" She trailed off.

_"__Except that you were dumb enough to let me change the topic and fool you before I even replied to your question what comes after the pizza"_ She thought to herself, smiling innocently on the outside.

They found an open pizza place and ordered themselves something nice. Angie relaxed on her seat and yawned a few times.

"Baby is tired…" Luke joked.

"I'll make you pay for those baby references. Keep that in mind." Angie sounded offended. "And yes, I've been up since six this morning. I did some training before I met with Emily Prentiss."

"Oh yeah. What is it that Prentiss does on the mornings of the sixth of each month? We've always wondered. Tara thinks it's something kinky and that's why Emily doesn't want to tell us about it. But then again, JJ would know about it. And she does not. I know, I've bribed her with great stuff that she could not possibly say 'No' to, and yet she did. So, what is it?"

"_How_ desperate are you to find out?" Angie smirked. She had a game to play with this one.

"What are the stakes?"

"One night. You do whatever I want and you ask no questions."

"Yeah, if Emily's half days off did not sound kinky enough, your statement sure does. I'm in!"

"Are you sure?" She said challengingly, while chewing on a piece of her pizza. "Because once you give in to your Master, there is no turning back." She added with a kinkier voice.

"There's always the code word!"

"Oh, someone is a pro at kinky games, I see…"

"No, I didn't mean…" Luke felt like an idiot. Angela was teasing and he only replied back with the same tone as hers, but somehow she turned _him_ out to be the weird one.

"Fine then, choose a code word, for when you chicken out and want to stop."

"Bagels!"

"Bagels? This is so lame. Like, do men think about food _all_ the time?"

"Uh. Yes." He admitted and stole himself a piece of her pizza. "That and one other thing…" He smirked.

"Fine."

She then grabbed a piece of his pizza, as revenge.

When they were done eating, Angie asked to borrow his phone so she could check something on the map and he gave it to her willingly. However, the map was far from what she needed. As she handed it back to him after just a minute, she grinned, knowing that she had made a very special reservation for both of them and that Luke was about to be teased mercilessly.

* * *

"What the-…" Luke groaned, not finishing his sentence.

After the pizza, Angie had dragged him to the entrance of a building where she had asked him to close his eyes and hold her hands. They walked in and he felt an actual piece of fabric being tied to his head, preventing him from seeing anything, in case he'd cheat and want to open his eyes.

Silk. It felt so nice and soft against the skin on his face. It also smelled like cheap female perfume…and cigarettes.

Angie had then walked off to another room and he could hear her whisper something to another woman, the one that had opened the door for them and had tied the blindfold on him.

A minute later, only Angie came back.

"Are you ready?" She asked, her hand barely touching his shoulder.

"Uh…look, you're great and all, but-…" It had been all fun and games when she teased him earlier, but this was turning into something Luke was not sure he was up for.

"Shh." Angie put her finger on his lips, preventing him from saying another word - ultimately, not allowing him to make a complete fool out of himself.

"Come on. Just a few more steps. That's it. Good boy." She bit her lips so hard. It was nearly impossible for her to contain her laughter.

He had no idea what he had just gotten himself into. Not just that night, but after having met Angela, in general.

"Don't be afraid…" She whispered when she felt him resist when she tugged on his hands, urging him to walk further into the new room.

"Don't you trust your Master?" She asked and there was something so soft about her voice. So mysterious. So suggestive. So damn irritating.

"Prentiss is going to kill me!" Luke gulped, considering his best option: mentioning bagel.

Angie almost felt tears in her eyes, from the suppressed laughter. Her stomach was hurting from clutching and trying not to ruin the game.

"Dude, what the-…" Luke tried to swear one more time, but Angie's hand shut his mouth forcefully.

Chains.

Cold.

Metal.

That was what he felt.

A few seconds later, his both hands were chained to the wall. The chains were long, so he could still take a step left and right, but he was chained, nonetheless.

"What's wrong? Big bad FBI Agent doesn't like the adrenaline?" Angie kept on teasing.

"You can now start." The other female voice sounded, as if on a loudspeaker.

"Start…what?" Luke was almost afraid to ask.

Angie stood impossibly close to him and she removed his blindfold, so damn slowly.

"I am going to murder you!" Luke said through gritted teeth, the second he realized what was actually going on.

"Come on, partner! We only have sixty minutes." She hurried around the room, being the one free of chains and cuffs.

Luke rolled his eyes, unsure if he was actually upset that she had led him on like that. But the idea of an escape room sounded almost as fun. Almost.

"I have a directional lock here." Angie pointed to a corner of the room.

"I can see a set of keys up on the ceiling." He added.

"Great! I used to be a cheerleader. I'll show you how to grip my feet and you'll push me up so I can get those!"

"I don't think that's how we're supposed to play, though." He laughed out loud.

That girl was nothing short of fun, spontaneous and weird.

"Oh, there's a magnet…my handcuffs are magnetic. The hole for a key is probably just misleading." Luke said after a thorough inspection of the chains and cuffs.

"Wait, that's code." Angie read something on the wall.

"Where is Reid when we need him?"

_"__The key is in the light."_ Angie said.

"Huh?"

"That's what the code translates into."

"What? Those scribbles on the wall?

Angie nodded.

"How on Earth were you able to decipher it so fast!?"

"I'm Baby Genius, remember?" Angie smirked and walked over to the only source of light in that room.

"Plus, I take interest in cyphers. Some people do crosswords or Sudoku, I prefer deciphering. It's fun!"

"Nerd!"

"Thank you!" She smiled, unscrewing a light bulb carefully. Inside the lamp there was nothing but scratches.

"Great, there is no key." Luke sighed.

"Wait. Look at those scratches. Think of them as blood spatter. They each have a specific direction. And there's also an arrow, pointing from right to left, so this should be read backwards. Now…try this on the directional lock…"

Luke reached the lock and waited for her instructions.

"Left, down, right, left, up, down, right, up."

"Done!" He said triumphantly.

The lock was holding a small wooden box together, inside of which Luke found a whole bunch of chessboard pieces.

"Yup, this is definitely a game for Reid."

"Do you give up this easily on the field, too?" Angie kneeled by his side and inspected the pieces.

"Horseshoe…" Angie chanted to herself, as if she was remembering something.

"There was an imprint of a horseshoe on the wall, over there. Quick! Give me the horse figure!" She commanded.

"Jesus, you're feisty!" He laughed, loving the way she barked out orders.

"Oh, you have no idea. Sassy, too!" No matter how innocent she tried to sound, she somehow sounded alluring. Authoritarian. And that, to Luke, was sexy.

Angie put the horse chess figure against Luke's handcuffs and they flew open at the touch of the magnet that was hidden on the bottom of the piece.

_"__Fly free, my bird."_ She sung, sounding like a magician now, which made him laugh again.

They scanned the room and found a few more items. At some point, a secret pathway unlocked. They had to open a wardrobe and push aside its back wall, which led them to a pitch-black hallway that led them into a second room. A few more enigmas later, they were in a third room.

"Girl, you're killin' the game!" Luke pointed out after Angie kept on crushing every next step of the game.

Before they knew it, the final door opened and they were free.

"Congratulations, guys! You just beat our current record by a whole minute!" Said the girl, who Luke now realized was the game master – the one who had followed their game.

"Cool." Angie smiled.

"He had no idea what he was in for, did he?" The girl laughed. She had seen Luke's face when she put the blindfold on him, and he had looked terrified.

"Nope." Angie replied to her before she turned to Luke again. "I told you you'd pay for calling me Baby."

"I hate you…" He rolled his eyes, only pretending to be annoyed.

Truth was, it was refreshing to him to do something spontaneous, fun and challenging.

"You two were the perfect partners. How long have you been together? Have you been to a lot of escape rooms before?" The girl asked while Luke swiped his card, paying for the adventure.

"We just met, actually." Angie pointed out. "Like, this afternoon."

"No way!" The girl could not believe that. They had acted like they had known each other for years. "You two cracked me up with those FBI jokes."

"It's not a joke. We _are_ FBI." Angie said contently. It felt so good to say it out loud.

"Well, _I_ am an Agent. She's a Trainee at the Academy." Luke smirked, knowing he'd piss Angela off with that specification.

"You're just jealous that I'm younger and hotter than you!" Angela motioned with her hand, giving him a view of the best, most obnoxious hair flip she could master.

"Plus, you're going to pay for this, too!" She then added.

"Baby, if the punishment is anything like this one, then bring it on…" He leaned in, whispering in her ear.

"Stop calling me Baby!" Angie tried to slap his shoulder, like she always did with Bryan.

"Ouch!" She retrieved her hand instantly.

He was as hard as a rock. She was now praying that her hand won't get swollen after the hit had backfired.

Note to self – never slap Luke Alvez again.

* * *

"Well, hello Lauren!" Victor said with approval, sneaking up behind Richard and finding his eyes fixated on his phone screen, with the photo of him and Lauren on it.

Victor was over for dinner, at Richard's house, but he had walked out to take an urgent phone call and as he joined his best friend on the terrace twenty minutes later, he found him sighing at the sight of the woman who had managed to steal his heart.

"Hello. What can I do for you today?" A female voice startled Victor, as it came from inside Richard's bedroom.

"Dude, don't tell me you…" Victor was at the loss of words.

He had tried to joke with Richard, but then was it Lauren who was replying, from his bedroom? It couldn't possibly be…Could it?

"Is she…" Victor stuttered.

"Duuude, you didn't…Oh my God, did you!?" He kept on half-asking, but both knew what the question really was.

"You don't want to know. Trust me…" Richard rolled his eyes, placing the phone on the table between the two terrace lounge chairs before he walked into his bedroom.

Victor followed him with curious eyes.

"Lauren, please switch off and don't talk to me until tomorrow morning." Richard commanded.

Victor eyed him up and down. Had he lost his mind? Who was he talking to?

"Okay. Goodnight, Richard. I will wake you up with our song tomorrow morning." The female voice replied instantly and Victor's eyes snapped in direction of a small blinking light, coming from a plastic box with loudspeakers on it.

"My Goodness, you are _way_ more smitten than I thought." Victor kept shaking his head.

He knew exactly _what_ Richard thought of this 'Lauren' woman. He also knew _why_. However, he could simply not quantify just _how much_ this entire thing - this nonexistent relationship, meant to his best friend.

"You have no idea…" Richard murmured, unhappy and a little mad at himself for forgetting to switch the AI off.

It had been a week since he had bought it and the first time he had used it had been a disaster, a total failure. The second time had been weird. But from the third time onwards he had learned how to make the most out of it and how to appreciate his newly found – and quite disturbing, friendship with an artificial intelligence.

"Okay, I can't stand this anymore!" Victor came out with it suddenly before he elaborated.

"You need to do something about it. And since I know you will say 'No' to that very plausible suggestion of mine, then let me rephrase it – You need to let _me_ do something about it! It's been more than a month and you're over here, still weeping. I don't want you to turn into an old, sad, mellow man. My best friend kicks ass and he has all the women he might ever want, lining up for him and awaiting his attention. He doesn't need this…a machine…to be by his side. Wake up – if she isn't contacting you, go find her yourself. It's _that_ simple!"

"Are you a complete idiot?" Richard sighed. "Should I enlist all the reasons why I can't do _any_ of what you want me to do? Plus, I don't want any of these other women. I want _her_! And I'm willing to wait until she calls."

"And what if she never calls?" Victor challenged him, eyeing him disapprovingly.

"She will." Richard smirked.

Deep down inside of him there was no doubt Lauren and him would be a thing. He knew it would take time – for her to accept what he had done; and then it would take even more time - for her to understand his reasons for having to do it all, for having to lie, for everything. There was a lot she did not know and it wasn't just a harmless little lie. It was game changing. It was life altering. It was _huge_. It scared Richard, but at the same time he had faith that if there was _one_ woman on the entire Earth, who could understand it all, it would surely be _Lauren_ and no one else. He knew her, despite the little that she had shared about herself. He never needed her to open up and talk, in order for him to get to know her. He just did. And that was the main reason why he felt so connected to her. He not only _knew_ her, but he _was_ her - a male version of who Lauren had been. If he could understand her struggles, then it should be reciprocal – she should understand his own.

"I know she will…" Richard repeated once again, purely because he liked the sound of his own voice, saying these words out loud.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Hello everyone :)**

Just a little info: I'm back working 15 hour shifts five days a week, on top of having to move house.  
I will post **SURELY**** ONCE** a week! I will try to _maybe_ post twice when I can, but right now as we've picked up after lockdown it is hard and I come home super tired and don't have it in me to produce/edit something good and readable/fun. From September things shall (probably!) calm down and I shall return to having time to relax, to sleep and to write more and update more often :)  
BTW, I've written ahead, so I know you are about to be showered with some Angie/Emily and Angie/BAU-fam bonding scenes and I hope you all enjoy those. To the ones of you who have theories - keep looking for subtle clues, because I'll keep on dropping them!

Stay safe and be kind to one another. Thank you for being such wonderful readers, it is because of _**you (ALL the readers!)**_ that I will do my best to post at least once per week for July/August, despite my hectic schedule. Thank you for the continuous support :)

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Yeah, I really like the friendships within the BAU, especially between the women - no cattiness, jealousy and petty crap going on! As a girl in the working world, I myself admire that bond! Em&Chay will be discussing some more ehm, private aspects of the Emchard relationship soon, LOL! Just because Em has no filter on her mouth hahaha! And yup, I play with the characters' inner feelings and thoughts a lot. I especially love dream sequences and OMG - flashbacks and at some point (later on) these will play a MAJOR role in the story! There will be lots of Lauren and her previous life undercover. Maybe you will see an UnSub we love to hate...*wink* PS: Richard is going to affect the team in a major way, one you can't even imagine right now. But, does it necessarily have to be a BAD way? Hmm, we shall see. For now, he's just a lovesick puppy and I want to give him a hug...or two :P!

**"rmpcmfan"** Yes, JJ's story is finally out. And lol, I don't like Will either, so I sacrificed him, in order to have someone have some serious drama going on :P Poor JJ, though, I could only imagine what a shock it must be to hear such things. However, she does have tough skin and amazing friend support! As for JJ/Emily, they have their ways of talking without speaking (I hope that makes sense). JJ is most definitely going to be of BIG influence for Remily...Emchard...(We still need a ship name, HELP!). You won't believe the lengths both Emily and JJ will go, lol! Hopefully it makes you laugh, when you read what I have planned. And that will be soon, finally, the time is nearing for things to get resolved lol! As for JJ and Angie...ay ay ay...you just wait for it, lol!

**"sweetkid45"** LOL, I feel like _nobody_ likes Will, from what I read online. Poor JJ, people have it out for her husband! I agree that Henry and Michael deserve both parents at home. You'll learn how the situation evolves/gets resolved.


	100. That's My Girl

** CHAPTER 100**

_**THAT'S MY GIRL**_

"Emily?" JJ whispered, one hand tugging on the little covers that were over Emily's body. The remaining piece was covering Angie.

"Why are you whispering? Have you not learned anything? This woman won't wake up if you poured a bucket of ice on her." Tara laughed at JJ who was being so gentle and silent in the morning.

"Mhh, you're right." She shrugged and noticed something. "Hey, Emily _always_ hogs the covers. God, I love her, but my ass is always freezing when we have to share a bed."

"Jealous much?" Tara smirked, watching Angie sleep like a baby – comfortable and warm under the covers that were mostly on top of her, while nearly no fabric was covering Emily.

Angie was disturbed by all the talking, so she turned around in her sleep and moved to the middle of the bed, until her head was resting against Emily's shoulder, with her nose pressing against it.

"This is weird…" Tara commented.

"Yeah? Says the one who almost suffocated me last night." JJ chuckled. She had woken up in the middle of the night, when she heard Angela get back to the room, and realized that Tara had her hand on top of her. It had made it a bit hard to breathe.

"Let's never mention that again, okay?" Tara blushed. She was a hugger, but only in her sleep. In reality she was a lot more reserved with personal contact, much like Angela.

"I'm going to bribe you now. Just wait for it!" JJ teased and noticed how Tara was checking Angela out with suspicion in her eyes. "What's bothering you?"

"This girl…" Tara's hand pointed to Angela's face. "Yesterday I tried to touch her shoulder and she shrieked away like I was the Devil. But look at her now, how can she even breathe? Her nose is smashed against Emily's shoulder."

"Maybe she just doesn't like you. I mean, you do come off a little cold when you meet people. Don't get me wrong – you're a complete goofball after that."

"Seriously? This coming from _you_, who ignored everyone's existence all day, yesterday? What was wrong with you anyway? Can I help? Are you in trouble with Prentiss?"

"I deserve everything I received from Prentiss last night. And I am grateful to God for her. I could have had it _way_ worse, had it been anyone else." JJ sighed with relief.

"Remember those words next time you decide to piss me off." Emily muttered, with her eyes still closed. She had just woken up and was now eavesdropping on their little conversation.

"Uhh, _it_ hears everything!" JJ laughed and tickled Emily lightly.

"No, no, no. Tickle wars, really? I'm not five!" Emily moved away, but quickly realized that was disturbing Angela in her sleep.

"Let's go downstairs for breakfast and let her rest a little more." Emily suggested.

They got dressed and stuffed a few things in their bags before they went downstairs, realizing that Rossi, Reid and Simmons were already there.

"Hey girls, where's Angela?" Reid asked.

"Hey guys, where's Alvez?" Tara smirked, mirroring that question.

"Well, they went out for pizza last night and came back this morning, so I don't think either one of them is going to be joining us for breakfast." Rossi no longer understood late nights out. For him, the latest was eleven o'clock, by which time he had to be back home, showered and in bed.

"They're young. It's New York City. Let them have fun!" JJ sounded much more like herself that morning and everyone was kind of relieved.

"Just as long as they get enough rest before we start this case." The Unit Chief in Emily spoke.

* * *

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen!" Angie greeted cheerfully when she joined everyone for breakfast, fifteen minutes later.

"How does she do it?" JJ's jaw dropped.

Angela looked fresh and ready to go. She could not have had more than three hours of sleep since she had come back to the hotel. JJ was jealous. Usually, when the BAU ladies partied, the next day would be a blur…and it would start no sooner than noon.

They took their time with breakfast, chatting about little things and asking Angela endless questions about the Academy.

After that, they moved to the NYC field office, to start their day. Emily made sure she got handed the car keys right away, as they had not received them last night, upon arrival, and it had been an inconvenience.

Angie noticed how there were two keys, for two cars, since the team was quite numerous. She could only hope she would never be asked to drive one of those tacky black Federal SUVs. The tactical driving trainer had ruined her confidence behind the wheel and now she was scared to even think of driving.

* * *

"Okay, we're all set." Emily announced after a thorough plan of action had been made.

"JJ, I need you to keep everything on a need to know basis. Understood?" Emily continued.

"Understood. Anything you guys find out about, the police does _not_ need to know about." JJ smirked, confirming she knew exactly what Emily meant.

"Wait, why?" Stephen asked in confusion.

"Did you just sleep through the thirty-minute talk during which we all agreed that there is fowl play and the police knows more than what they have told us?" Emily rolled her eyes.

Looking at this man now, with his arrogance and his lack of intuitive skills, she wondered what the Hell had made her even consider the option of dating him, for the total of two dates they have had. Exactly _how_ dumb did that make her? Apart from the fact that she had no idea he was married, at the time.

"Oh. Right..." He said to himself, now eagerly following the BAU team out the door.

An hour later, they were done with interviewing everyone they needed to talk to and they had ended up having even more questions than before. Something seemed off about this case.

For the rest of the day JJ was great at keeping the police away, and the fact that they were working from an office inside the New York field office, and not the police station, made it easier for her to bluff. She only had two policemen stalk her every now and then, but for the most part, it was just her and Angela in that room, with Garcia on loudspeaker, trying to figure things out.

"So, where are you from?" JJ tried to start small talk, having sensed how distant Angela was with her.

It had been more than an hour now and the girl had barely said two words to JJ, if she didn't absolutely have to. JJ had been warned that her cold welcome might have its repercussions, but she felt really uncomfortable around Angela now, especially knowing that the girl had already established quite the relationship with everyone else on the team - they had laughed together, she had asked questions and she had been nothing short of bubbly and polite. And yet, she wouldn't even look JJ in the eyes.

"Somewhere I'd like to forget." Angie replied shortly before reading a report for the fifth time, trying to come up with something useful, for the investigation.

"Oh, I get it. I come from a small town myself. Been trying to forget all about it since I could remember." JJ smiled, trying to find something in common between them. Maybe then Angie would warm up to her.

"Mhm." Angie muttered and started writing something down.

Luckily for her, Emily called JJ at that moment and they started talking about something else.

Garcia soon interfered, worrying about the lack of clues and information. It wasn't like her to not be able to find something online.

"JJ, would you take the speaker off, please?" Emily asked, at the end of a very unsatisfactory three-way phone call.

JJ obliged and proceeded to listen to something Emily said to her, without Angie hearing it.

"Alright. Talk to you later." She greeted Emily and then turned her attention to Angela once again.

"I'm in the mood for some pizza. How do you like yours?" JJ asked, assuming Angela would want one, too.

"I'm not hungry yet. I'll grab a sandwich from the vending machines later." Angie stated, but in reality she was starving.

"Eww, those will give you a stomach ache. Who knows how long they've been in that vending machine? Come on, pizza sounds better, doesn't it?"

"No. I'm not hungry enough to have a whole pizza."

"Want to share one then?"

"Nope. I want a sandwich." Angie stated and put an end to that discussion.

JJ sighed, walking away. That girl sure had a mind of her own.

It took Angie a minute to calm herself down after turning down a pizza offer. It was her favorite food, but it would surely be much more expensive than the two bucks tuna sandwich from the vending machine. And Angela was short on cash.

JJ did not order food. She was still upset over the fact that she had let herself be childish enough, to get herself grounded like this. Staying back was a punishment, but a lesser punishment than having her badge taken, so she had to keep that in mind.

An hour later, the team returned to their temporary office. Emily looked around, not noticing empty carton boxes, nor sensing the smell of pizza.

"She did not want it?" She asked JJ when they had a moment in private.

Earlier, on the phone, Emily had instructed JJ on mentioning pizza and trying to make the girl eat something.

"Nope. She iced me out and barely said a word to me all day." JJ rolled her eyes. Yes, she had been rude the day before, but why did Angela not like her now that she was trying to make up for it?

"You deserve it." Emily pursed her lips and JJ knew she was right. Emily was the only person JJ would like to hear the harsh truth from, and not be offended by it.

"Okay, listen up everyone. We're ordering pizza. Write down your order on a paper and I'm calling in a couple of minutes." Emily announced.

They had come back empty handed. They were all starving and it would be impossible to continue working before they had any food and it was already past 3 pm.

"Lunch is on me." Rossi announced, but Emily shot him a glance, as if she was about to disagree.

"I said, lunch is on me!" Rossi insisted, giving her a look that made her shut up and walk away instantly.

He knew that Emily was not as well off as she pretended to be. He had figured she was struggling with her finances lately, but he did not know why. As the Unit Chief, she was clearly paid more than the rest of the team and yet, he had noticed her making calculations when it came to spending. She'd sometimes bring her own lunch or she'd pretend like she wasn't hungry at all. There was no way he'd let her keep on paying for the team, on a daily basis.

Emily did end up ordering the pizza, but in the end Rossi paid it all. Angie was hesitant at first, but then she caved in when they asked her a second time. She was beyond starving, so as much as she hated it when people paid for her, she was in desperate need of food.

Rossi watched Angela while she ate. She was quiet, her eyes darted towards JJ a few times and she almost looked like she was guilty of something.

After lunch was done, Rossi asked Angie to take a walk with him outside. He needed to extract her from the mess in the office and talk to her in private.

"So, Angela..." He started off with a smile.

She smiled as well. She already liked him, so it was easy to feel comfortable around him.

"How come you know so much about profiling already?"

"I uh..." She stuttered. It was the first sign that she was about to lie.

"No, no. Keep the charades for someone else." He kept on smiling. Oh, she was so busted. "I want the truth. The real deal. Come on, it's just you and me here."

"Why do you want to know stuff about me?" She shrugged, not used to people asking her stuff. Or rather - not used to answering people's questions in a truthful manner.

"Because I know you are a very beautiful and very smart young girl, who desperately wants to be part of this team. You came in and made everyone like you instantly. You built a connection with each one of us, privately. You listen to our words and memorize everything you hear, because you want to learn how to become one of us. And that is great...it really is..."

"Thank you, Sir." She smiled brightly. The Great David Rossi was complimenting her, in a way.

"But, you see, I want to know the _real_ you. And I'm smart enough to know that what you show, is not who you really are."

Her smile turned upside down and she froze at his additional words.

All of those years of deceit and lies and he was the first one, the _only_ one, to call her out like that. She wasn't sure how to proceed.

"Angela, I've written books on people like you..." He said calmly, one hand pointing at a bench, urging her to sit.

He then sat, facing her, and he continued to smile.

"You know, people smile with their eyes, not with the lips. And I don't see a smile in your eyes. I see something you are hiding. I can only guess what it might be, but I cannot be sure..."

His words were making her shiver. She felt like he was reading her like an open book and that was a very bad thing for someone who did not want to be read, understood or questioned when lying their ass off or when simply withholding certain truths.

She stood immobile, silent as a fish. Her face had a blank expression on it and as much as Rossi hated to admit that to himself, he was actually unable to read her. On the outside, to her it seemed like he could, but the truth was – she was a blur, she was a chaotic mess of letters, not even actual words, scribbles without direction, on a black canvass that represented her soul, her inner feelings, her life.

And that scared him.

For the first time in a very long time, he was absolutely powerless, staring at a face that won't talk to him. He did not need words. He was looking for nonverbal signs – a little eye twitch, biting of the lips, too much blinking, not enough blinking…_anything_.

But from Angela he received none of that. She was right there, in front of him, staring him back, straight in the eyes, and not communicating one damn thing.

It drove him insane.

She was the blank piece of paper he had often found himself staring at, uninspired, helpless, when the muse had abandoned him while writing a new book.

She was as visible as the horizon, roaring over the ocean, but that ocean was flat. Silent. Calm. So damn quiet…

Subconsciously, he caved in and bit his lip from desperation, realizing that the last time he was unable to read someone it had been Emily, right before she had left. She had been going through some mixed emotions and she had surely suffered. Quietly. Keeping it all to herself. Not communicating a damn thing. Just like Angela now.

Did that mean Angela was on the verge of self-destruction as well?

Or did it mean she was perfectly able to fool him? In which case, he'd be beyond impressed.

"Can we try one thing?" His voice was soft. _So_ soft.

Angie had a thing for voices and she could never deny a soft one, like Rossi's, so she simply nodded in reply.

"Maybe we can use our words?" He suggested.

Her face did not move an inch. Her blinking was at normal rate and she did not bite those lips.

"I just want to get to know you. If you are uncomfortable, just please tell me to stop and I will respect your privacy…" He tried another tactic.

Angie tried really hard not to shiver. She did not want anyone to get close to her, to figure her out, to get to know her.

And yet, she did not want him to stop trying, either.

He gave her a long moment to consider her options. When she did not reply, he took her silence as a permission to continue.

"You are scared. I get it. This is a hard job and a hard reality to live in. But if you are lucky, you'd get into a Unit where people respect you, help you out in times of need. It's a wonderful thing, being close to your co-workers. But in order to do that, you're going to have to let them in…"

His words made perfect sense. She already knew all that.

But then, why did he have to mention a Unit? Any Unit? What about the Unit she wanted? His words made it sound like there was no chance of that happening and she frowned.

Rossi sighed with relief, her face had finally communicated something that he was able to decipher.

Fear.

He knew it was a matter of time that she'd start talking now. Treating her with silence was only going to push her to say what was on her mind.

A whole minute later, she opened her mouth. Barely.

"What if I don't get in the Unit I want?" She asked weakly, her voice almost cracking.

If Rossi's age wasn't reason enough to hold him back from doing a triumphantly happy dance, he'd be busting a move right about now. The girl was finally starting to admit.

"Any Unit would be lucky to have you." He reassured her, knowing the harsh truth that she would be hired as soon as Graduation was over. That was granted. She was one of the top Trainees and, even when she wasn't excelling at a subject, she'd push hard until she'd meet the Bureau expectations. And then she'd push even harder until she'd be satisfied with her performance. All that hard work and perseverance was going straight to her Trainee Report and Rossi was sure she'd be getting tons of offers, from different Units.

Unfortunately, the BAU would not be one of them.

"Then I should work harder…" She said, more to herself than to him.

"No, Angela. You are doing the best you can, already. You need to relax. Enjoy the rest of the Academy. Have fun, make friends, go out for drinks, go dancing. Don't work yourself out. Yes, the Academy is about training, but it is also about socializing, making connections that would be useful to you, in the future."

She looked at him in disbelief. She did not want friends. She wanted the Unit of her choice and there was no question she'd bust her ass to get it.

"But, don't Units have guidelines? Like, I don't know, on how prepared someone should be if they want to get in? What qualities they should have? Which books they should have read?" She asked desperately, knowing perfectly well how dumb her question was.

"No, sweet child. They don't. And if they did, the BAU guidelines paper would have nothing but your name on it."

His words made her smile wide.

"Really?"

"Yes. Really." He nodded and smiled back.

Her enthusiasm was contagious. She was so adorably sweet with the way she reacted to things, connected to the BAU.

"But you need to keep your options opened. Explore other Units. Maybe you'll find your perfect fit. Make connections, show them the beautiful, smart young girl that you are.

"I don't want other Units. I'm a BAU baby!" She said quickly, before her brain could process the words that came out of her mouth.

Rossi smirked. There it was – possibly the first time ever, when Angie had admitted it out loud.

This time, her face was communicating hope, determination, desperation…

As much as he wanted to be honest with her, he knew it was Emily's job to break the news to Angela, when time for recruitment came.

He just hated the idea of possibly being the one who'd break this girl's heart and crush her hopes and dreams.

Then again, he would hate it if that person should be Emily…

He had seen the way Angela looked at Emily. With curiosity, respect…inspiration.

Angie was interpreting his silence as a bad sign.

Such a bad sign…

And she replied with nothing but silence and a blank face, once more.

"You remind me of my daughter Joy." Rossi finally spoke, taking Angie off-guard.

Why would he say that?

"Young and full of hopes. You know, before I even knew she was my daughter, she stalked me. She had read all of my books and she chose a career path that somewhat resembles mine, as an author I mean. And she is thriving."

Angie felt cold shivers, realizing where that conversation might possibly go.

"And then, when we met, it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. And also, quite bitter…"

Angie looked at him quizzically.

"Bitter? Yeah, it is bitter for a parent to have lost so much time, so many opportunities to be with their child. You kids grow so fast. You learn new things. And then one day, us parents realize we no longer have a child, but a beautiful human being – strong, smart, opinionated. A human with a soul so pure and a heart so fragile, that we know we still have to protect them, as if they were still a child. Because that's what you are to us – our children. And a parent, Angela, loves their child unconditionally, no matter the time spent apart. Never forget that."

And there it was. The quivering lower lip that he had been waiting for.

She also pursed her lips and stopped blinking altogether. That's when he saw it in her eyes – moisture. Budding tears that she was commanding herself not to let fall.

"If you ever need anything, I want you to feel comfortable enough to come to me for advice or help. Okay?" He said, unsure how he should handle her nearing emotional crisis.

If it were anyone else from the team, he would have already comforted them, gotten close, put a hand on their shoulder.

But he had noticed how distant Angie always was with people. Physical contact was not even an option, unless he wanted to upset her even more. And words could not help, he had already said enough. So it was now up to her to give him a sign, to let him know what she needed.

"Can…" Angie started speaking, but her voice cracked. As soon as she opened her mouth, she knew she was going to lose it.

"Can I have…a hug…Sir?" She said slowly, making sure she'd sound calm enough to fool him. She failed at it.

"Always." He said softly, holding his hands out and wondering what it was about him that made her open up, made her let him in so quickly.

He soon discovered that his own lip was quivering. There was something so bittersweet about hugging that girl. Rossi was the one, out of the whole group, who would always hug people to comfort them. He was used to holding them in his arms and it always made him feel happy, to know that he was helping them. But with Angela, he felt a certain sadness.

"You really are one of the good girls, huh…" He stated when she finally had the courage to break the hug.

He had been watching her. She wasn't a wild one, she wouldn't get herself into dumb situations involving drugs and alcohol, like most of the girls her age probably would. If Rossi was her parent, he'd be proud of her. _Any_ parent would be proud of her. That was what perplexed him the most.

* * *

"Here you are. Come on, Garcia just found a connection between the victims." JJ said, as soon as she saw Angie and Rossi walk back in, half an hour later.

"Yeah, where were you?" Emily could not help but ask.

"Just needed some fresh air." Rossi said vaguely.

Had he left Angela reply, Emily would not have let go until she had an answer. But with him she would not dare insist.

"Alright. Angela, you and I are going to take a drive. We need to talk to someone." Emily stated.

"Okay!" Angie said right away.

There it was – that look, that enthusiasm Rossi saw in her eyes, whenever she was around Emily.

"Who are we talking to?" Angie asked curiously, getting in the car a few minutes later.

"The guy who just admitted to all the murders." Emily said calmly and drove off.

"Wait. What?" Angie was confused.

Didn't Emily just say Garcia had found a connection between the victims? She never mentioned someone came forward. Was it even true? It couldn't be true, if she didn't let the team know. Did they even know?

Angie was beyond confused.

"Come on, Agent Hunter, what do you think about it?" Emily could have simply answered her confusion with one short statement. But she'd make Angela work for it and figure it out on her own.

"Well, I think someone is tech-savvy, at least enough to be able to figure out that Garcia found something out. And then they might have bribed someone else to take the blame. Because, honestly, there is no reason why this guy we're about to talk to, would come forward now. It is not common knowledge the FBI has taken up on the case. So, everything points to a false confession." Angie spoke, keeping her eyes on the road and thanking God she didn't have to drive and think at the same time.

"Good job." Emily smiled at her. "But you are forgetting something…"

Angie took a moment to think quietly.

"Mmh, nope. I have nothing else on my mind. What is it?"

"Ah, not so fast! A Hunter does not give up after one failed try. Come on, give it another shot." Emily urged her.

"Well…" Angie went through all the information she already had on the case, stored carefully in her mind.

"Anything?" Emily nudged her two minutes later, as Angie had gotten lost in her thoughts.

"No…" She shrugged, hating having to admit it.

"That's because you're thinking of the case…" Emily trailed off, but her words did not help Angie.

"Obviously. What else would I be thinking of?"

"What are the components of the case?" Emily tried to put it differently, but still vague.

"Well, the case files; the information we have; the witnesses, if any; the victims and victimology; evidence…"

"And?" Emily smirked. This girl was clueless as to how easy Emily's question was.

"And…and us! Oh my God, I'm an idiot! Us, of course, us! We make the case, we work the case, we close the case. There is no case without us!"

"That's my girl." Emily let those words roll off her tongue. It felt good, even if they made Angie feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Earlier, you told JJ this case was on a strictly need to know basis. We never told the police what was going on while you guys were out there today. And now, you didn't tell the team about the confession, because…" She stopped and collected her thoughts before continuing. "Because you need them to keep their focus on what you guys have already worked on, instead of wasting time on what might potentially be a false confession. Of course! It all makes sense now. You'd want to bring someone useless along, so your team would not be distracted and lose focus, while you explore this angle on your own."

"You are _not_ useless…" Emily pouted and shot a glance at Angie as she drove.

The ease with which this girl had used this word for herself, made Emily upset. She knew Angela was working really hard and trying to learn everything she could. Why would she talk herself down by calling herself 'useless' then?

"I'm a Trainee who is almost halfway done with the Academy. I'm following you around for a week and I'm trying to figure stuff out. Come on, I am the mere definition of useless." Angie laughed genuinely, as if she really believed that about herself.

Emily did not believe it was her place to give Angela a speech on self-love and self-appreciation. God knows she needed one, herself. Instead, she slowly shook her head left and right and sighed.

If only Angela knew what a gem she truly was. If only she knew how smart and capable she was. If only she knew how much Emily wanted to turn back time and undo those damned budget-related documents that the team had forged behind her back, so that she could be able to put a smile on Angie's face, to make her believe in herself, to make her see her true worth when she'd read her internship acceptance letter.

"You're upset again." Angie pointed out.

She had the habit of telling people how she had figured they were feeling, in her presence. Sometimes it backfired. Not everyone was happy to know that she was reading them like an open book.

"I am. Yes." Emily confirmed. Once again, she had no problem being open and honest with this girl.

Angie sunk in the seat and remained quiet. Surely, Emily's mood was _her_ fault.

They arrived at the police station a few minutes later and headed straight towards the interview room. Angie leaned against the wall in the hallway when Emily's hand was on the doorknob, before she'd open the door.

"What are you doing?" Emily asked.

"Uhm, waiting…?" Angie said, doubtfully.

"You are following me this week, remember?" Emily smirked and opened the door.

"So, follow me!" She ordered, motioning for Angela to walk in first.

As much as Angie wanted to squeal with pleasure when she had been invited in to listen to the interrogation, she kept her calm and acted professional, walking in with her chin up.

Emily presented herself to the man who was now handcuffed and waiting to be questioned. She said that Angela was working alongside her, on the case, and Angela tried not to burst with pride. Or to squeal.

Emily started off with a few basic questions about this man, his life, upbringing, family, friends, job. They already had all of that on a file that Emily had read while in the field office. Garcia was the only one who knew about the confession, as she was the one who sent the file to Emily.

At some point, Emily slid the papers over to Angela, who was sitting quietly by her side.

The questioning then took a turn and Emily started asking about the victims. The man knew their first names and their hair color and body built, but not much else. And the BAU had already figured that the killings were personal, so the UnSub surely would have known the victims well. This was the first red flag.

Angie studied his behavior. He was sweating, but it was not too warm inside the room. He kept switching his feet, putting one foot over the other for no longer than a minute. He swept sweat off his palms, rubbing them against the metal of the table he was handcuffed to. All were indications for a lie.

"Hunter?" Emily took Angie by surprise when she spoke to her.

She then pointed at the man, urging Angela to ask him anything she might want to.

Angie's brow furrowed. Was she interpreting Emily's signs wrong?

"Mind taking over for a minute? I need to go grab some water." Emily announced and left the room before Angie could process the information.

"Alright, now I have a couple of questions." Angie turned to the man instantly, without even taking a second to strategize or to come up with questions.

As soon as Emily walked out of the room, she sprinted to the adjacent room - the surveillance room, taking a seat and watching the interview, now being conducted by Angela.

"You said your first victim, Jeanine, was alive while you were torturing her. Is that when you came up with the idea to hit her in the head? Is that when she stopped fidgeting? Walk me through it all…" Angie did something she was quite good at – she faked. She pretended not to know the details, so to make him speak.

"I uh, yeah. She was fidgeting. She kicked and uh she was uh, loud. She screamed and I had to make her stop, so I hit her with uh, the thing." The man mumbled silently.

"What thing? What did you hit her with?" Angie asked.

"I don't remember. It was big, I just grabbed it. It was right there, on the kitchen counter. I hit her and she stopped. That's when I stabbed her. I stabbed her four times – once in the heart, twice in the lower left abdomen and once on the inside of her right thigh. In that order. It took me about seven minutes to finish it all and then I left. I had my car parked outside the house, I drove a black sedan that day. It was my cousin's car. It is now at the impound lot, it has probably been destroyed already. Then I went back home and caught the second half of the game. I ordered some Chinese food at around 8:20 and it came in about fifteen minutes. I ate and took a shower and then went to sleep."

The way he spoke had already screamed _lie_ to Angela, but since Emily was not back yet, she decided to continue.

"Sorry, where did you stab her before you stabbed the left thigh?" She faked confusion once again.

"The…uh, I stabbed her heart." He replied hesitantly and she started speaking right away, not giving him a chance to correct himself, or her, for that matter.

"And that object you hit her with, was it on the floor? On the kitchen counter? By the fireplace?"

"The fireplace. It was the long metal thing, you know, for the fire…that long stick, you know, the fire poker?"

"Can you tell me anything about _before_ the crime happened?" She asked.

"Why?" He was taken off guard.

"Call me curious." Angie leaned forward and smiled.

He looked at her quizzically before he replied.

"I was uh, I had lunch and I was reading the newspaper."

"Which one?" Angie started shooting her questions quite fast at that point.

"It was the sports booklet you find inside one of those fancy newspapers that tell you about news and shit. I'm a huge fan of rugby. Never miss an update on my favorite team-…"

"What day was it?" She cut him off. She wasn't interested in his favorite sports team, at all.

"Uh. Tuesday."

"What did you have for dinner that day?"

"I dunno. Pizza maybe?"

"What color was the car you drove?"

"Black sedan. It was my cousin's. It's at the impound lot. I suppose it has already been destroyed."

"Did she die as soon as you stabbed her in the heart? Or was she already dead from when you stabbed her abdomen?"

"She uh, I don't know. Who cares? She's dead, okay!?" He started raising his voice and getting nervous.

Emily was having a blast. She was watching Angela dominate the interrogation and she could not wait to discuss it with the girl, when they were done.

As soon as Emily saw the man stand up from his chair, she noticed a tiny smirk on Angie's face. It had been her aim to get him all worked up.

"Hey, hey? Calm down. We're just talking here. We only need to know what happened, so we can understand the case better." Angie tried to calm him down, but he was now banging against the table and shouting some profanities back at her.

The commotion made Emily go back in the room and right after that, three police officers walked in and escorted the suspect out.

Angie kept her cool and seemed unmoved by all the nasty things this man had just said to her.

Emily pushed her shoulder, urging her to leave.

Both of them walked to the car in silence. It was only when they got in the car, that Emily spoke up.

"Come on, you can say it now." Emily glanced over at Angela who was sitting all prim and proper, still looking professional and collected.

"That was so cool!" Angie finally allowed herself to squeal happily.

Emily laughed. She had expected Angela's reaction, but still, witnessing her enthusiasm made her laugh.

"Now, talk to me…What was your strategy?"

"Well, first of all, my ultimate goal was to enrage him and to make him admit to a false confession. That only worked halfway through. But first, I needed him to think I was dumb enough to not have paid attention to him while he was telling you all the details. So, when he thought I was dumb, he no longer felt the need to be careful with his words. My tactics were to make him tell me everything and then make him say it, backwards or in mixed order. It's the first thing we were taught to do, when questioning a witness. If he is able to recall all details, backwards, then he is possibly being genuine. If, however, he had previously lied, a liar only has his lie laid out in one way, so he would find it hard to go back and change the order of things. And that is what happened with him. He said he had Chinese for dinner and then he said he maybe had pizza. He also said he stabbed her heart, then left abdomen and then right thigh, but he never corrected me when I said he had stabbed the _left_ thih, and he said he had stabbed the heart right before that, when he had to recall it backwards. Also, doesn't the sports booklet only come out with the Saturday newspaper? I'm not really in the know with those, but if he really is such a huge sports fan, why wait until Tuesday, to read the sports news? Also, the first victim was killed on a Wednesday, actually. And it happened in her bedroom, not in the kitchen. And there is no fireplace in the kitchen, not to mention there is no report of a blow to the head with a metal object, as he claimed. And this…yeah it was maybe my fault, because I gave him a misleading question, containing information. That was not alright as a tactic, but he could have simply corrected me, had he been the real killer. And yet, he took my information for granted and confirmed it with the most obvious thing he could, out of the three objects I enlisted." Angie took a small break, to catch her breath.

"I'm not done yet!" She raised a finger in the air, preventing Emily from speaking, when she saw she was about to do so.

A moment later, she had inhaled in and was ready to continue.

"Also, certain details were perfectly clear in his mind, as if he had studied them. Like, when he spoke about the black sedan and where it could be found now. I never asked, nor cared, about the car's current location. I only asked about the color. And yet, he poured all this information, as if he was trying to make me believe it. But the more details in a story, the less truth. We all know that. Also, I now want the number of that Chinese place that delivers in fifteen minutes. Plus, he said he had lunch right before the crime and then he had dinner right after that. I get it that a crime of this caliber drains out your energy, but Jesus, that appetite is not normal. And he was awfully precise with the time he got back home. I don't even remember what time I got home last time."

"Four fifty-seven." Emily smirked, giving Angie a knowing look.

Angie now blushed and looked away. Did Emily really have to choose _that_ part of her statement to comment on?

"Did you have fun?" Emily pushed it.

"Uh. Kind of. Yeah." She shrugged, trying to sound casual. Truth was, it had been one Hell of a night.

"Mhm." Emily muttered to herself, enjoying Angie's agony at that moment. If only she could see herself, all shy and blushing.

"I'm sorry I dragged one of your team members with me. I just…I don't know. I wanted to have a pizza and then things were fun and it's New York and we kind of lost track of time…"

"It's no problem. Both you and agent Alvez are in great shape at work today, so it really is not my business what you two did last night…"

The way Emily trailed off, with that cheeky smile, made Angie shiver.

"God, no! We did nothing…like that! We just went out and we had a pizza and then we uh, we walked around and we saw Times Square and we went to Central Park, but clearly we only saw it from the outside as it was night time and then I was observing the Empire State Building for like ten minutes straight, because it is _so_ beautiful and then we found a 24-hour place that sells ice cream, so we were there for a bit and we just waked around and started walking back to the hotel." Angie spoke fast and she was feeling sweaty, herself.

"Mhm…" Emily loved every second of this. "Now say that backwards?" She urged Angie, pointing to the theory Angie had just said they had learned at the Academy

Angie pursed her lips and stared out the window.

"You went dancing, didn't you?" Emily smiled wide.

"Yup." It was not a good idea to lie to her superior, especially when she had been busted, using her own game. Angie had a lot of respect for Emily, after she got played this way.

"But all of the rest happened as well. Except that the ice-cream was from an ice-cream stand and we sat on the sidewalk to eat it. That's when we met a couple of drunk girls who were singing some reggaeton song and they spoke about a club, which turned out to be right across the street from where we were. And we decided to go for a drink and then the music was great, so we stayed and we only left when the bouncers kicked us out, to close the club. And then we walked back to the hotel. And I swear, that's the truth. I know it sounds rehearsed, but it is what it is." Angie put her hands in the air, in mock surrender.

"Calm down. I believe you." Emily could not stop laughing and soon enough, Angie was doing the same.

It felt good. It wasn't forced. Nobody was doing something in order to _make_ her laugh. It was her body that naturally decided to react that way. And that felt so damn good. Emily could not remember the last time she had laughed genuinely.

And then she remembered. It was with Richard. At any occasion, she would smile and laugh. He made her feel comfortable, just like Angela did. Sometimes in life, there are these kinds of people who just click with you and make you happy. Emily had just lost Richard, but had she gained Angela instead?

"What are you thinking of?" Angie sensed the shift of emotions, coming from Emily.

"Someone I probably shouldn't be thinking of." Emily said, now it was _her_ turn to be shy.

"Why not?"

"Because they left…" Emily scoffed at the irony of that.

She also labeled herself as an egoist at that very moment, because she was the master of leaving. Who was _she_ to judge someone else for doing the same thing?

"But were they nice to you when you were with them?"

"Yeah. Very much so."

"Well, then you should be grateful you've had your time with them." Angie smiled. "People always leave. It's human nature."

"It shouldn't be." Emily shrugged. "They shouldn't leave…"

"But they do. And there is nothing we can do about it. Other people will come in our lives. It's the circle of life."

"Human nature? Circle of life? What are you, a book of inspirational quotes?" Emily laughed once again.

"No, I just try to be a good person to the people around me. Even when they don't deserve it. I believe that everyone should be treated with respect and everyone should have a helping hand, extended to them, in times of need."

"God, you really are perfect…" Emily's jaw twitched.

Looking at Angela, she could not imagine someone better, smarter, mentally stronger than her, even though Angela did not believe in herself. Emily did.

"I'm really not. I suck at way too many things. Like, I can't pack a damn gift nicely. I'd just shove it in a gift bag and never even think of the possibility of wrapping it in paper. Last time I tried that, it looked like a cat has had its play time with the package." She laughed.

"I also suck in math and any calculation, in general. Even basic ones. I don't like numbers. I'm not dumb, I just don't enjoy calculating things. Same goes for cars – I can drive and I can park, but I hate doing either one of those things. And I enjoy reading about molecular biology, but that doesn't mean I actually memorize or even understand all of it. I just like the challenge it represents, for me. I cannot make paper planes, which is the dumbest thing for me to say, because hello, come on, who can't make a freaking paper plane, right!?" By this point Angie was laughing uncontrollably, at her own words.

"You are such a dork, you know that, right?" Emily nudged Angie while she drove.

It was fun to hear her laughter. It was also contagious, with that high-pitched note of hers and the way her nose vibrated in between laughs. It was barely visible, but Emily saw it clearly.

The fact that Angie was so quick to point out her imperfections, was what made her perfect, in Emily's eyes.

"What about Emily Prentiss? Is she a dork?" Angie asked, sounding like a curious five year old.

"Ohh…the biggest!" Emily laughed again. She simply could not help it. If it depended on her, she'd never let go of Angela.

They spent the rest of the drive back to the FBI building laughing at all the dorky things Emily decided to share and all the numerous other random things that Angela blurted out randomly. The conversation was flowing, it was easy and pleasant, it was light and entertaining, but at the same time Angela managed to squeeze in a couple of questions about profiling, too.

"Do you think you can withhold any information about what we just did? I don't need my team losing focus right now, by looking for clues in a false confession." Emily asked as they were in the elevator, going up to the floor where their assigned meeting room was.

"Me? Keeping a secret? Pretending like what I have done had never actually happened?" Angela raised an eyebrow.

"It's what I'm best at!" She added with a smirk.

Emily already knew that about her. It was astonishing how good Emily was at profiling and it was also quite disturbing how good Angela was at denial. It did not seem to bother her even the tiniest bit. And yet, somehow, Emily could feel the pain that Angela was hiding deep down inside of her, ever since she had first laid eyes on her.

"Remember that denial is an amazing technique…but it can consume you in the long term. I would know. I've been where you are. I get it, _all_ of it. This is all I'm going to say." Emily said quickly before they walked out of the elevator.

She knew her words would make Angela feel uncomfortable, but she also knew that the time would come when Angela's little imaginary bubble of happiness would burst and the girl would need someone to hold on to, someone who understood, someone who knew how it felt to finally come back to the harsh truth, to the reality you've been trying to run away from for so long.

Her biggest fear was that when that time would come and when Angela would inevitably find herself alone, scared and unable to get herself out of that confusing new state of mind; she would not go to Emily for advice. Selfishly, Emily considered herself the perfect person – the _only_ person, who could help Angela fight whatever daemons were brewing inside of her.

Emily shot Angela a glance when she heard her chuckle. It was a mechanism for when someone was under pressure and it was something Emily had found herself do on multiple occasions, as well.

"You know, when you speak to me like that, I kind of wish I had given _you_ my 'always and forever'." Angie said honestly, her words connecting to a very touchy topic from her past – a moment in which she had promised someone her unconditional love, for eternity, and she had wanted nothing in return, but the very same thing. That person had failed her. However, the person she was following around this week didn't seem like the kind of person who would fail her. Angie wished she had gotten to know this new person years ago. Maybe then her life would have been different. Maybe everything would have been different. Maybe she could have been happy, without having to fake it.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Hello everyone :)!** Here's your weekly update - a looong chapter for you to (hopefully) enjoy! Have a great week!

**"rmpcmfan" **Yeah, Angie found a fun soul to connect to, in Luke. And she sure does loooooove a good time (said in the most platonic and pure of ways). Also, apparently what happened that night was not just a pizza slice and an escape room, lol, but Angie doesn't like to share things unless asked by Emily, directly, LOL! Yes, Angie is VERY well traveled and it's only about to get more obvious. She's super hush-hush about it, though, and also about her upbringing, languages and other things she knows or can do. It's funny you say she sounds like Emily...in a way they really do sound similar, but in other ways they are very different. As for Richard - I want to give him a hug...but I know he wants it from "Lauren" and nobody else! His patience surprises even _me_ and I have created him, LOL! Hmm, you believe Richard knows more about "Lauren" than he leads on? It's an interesting theory, I always encourage readers to have a theory and to try to find clues to support it. Hints will soon be everywhere and if you have the right theory, everything will make perfect sense PS: Nope, Richard won't need to wait too long *wink wink*! People's patience will be rewarded, hopefully in a way the readers will like (I cried writing a certain scene...and then I re-read it about a thousand times...yay!)

**"sweetkid45" **I feel like people don't think Will was right for JJ. I don't really have an opinion on it, because we have always seen JJ have a happy home life... However, if he was on the show more then maybe people would warm up to him. I dunno. Richard is going to be a very important person in the story...you will soon know what will happen with him!


	101. Can't Help Going Back To What I Love

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Hi guys :)!**

**Since I'm uploading weekly through the Summer, I kind of went all out and made sure this weekly chapter is about ten times longer than a normal chapter, lol, so it's as if I've updated daily after all. I hope you enjoy this chapter - it has some case-related stuff and I enjoyed writing everyone's assumptions with the profile and the final conclusion. I wanted to make it have the feel of a CM episode, with all the case-related things and also the fun stuff, too.  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER 101**

_**CAN'T HELP GOING BACK TO WHAT I LOVE**_

"Where the Hell were you? We have a new lead." Tara asked as soon as Emily and Angela walked back in after conducting the interrogation with this man who had given a false confession.

Angie popped half a cookie in her mouth, to have a valid excuse for not replying.

"Had to run an errand." Emily shrugged casually.

She was everyone's friend, but she was also everyone's boss and nobody would dare question her any further. Also, the team didn't need to know about the false confession that had just made her waste an hour and a half of their valuable time.

"A new victim has just been found." JJ informed both Emily and Angela.

"The local police just got word of it." She added.

"Got word of it?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

Wouldn't they have _found_ the crime scene? Why would they need to be _told_ about it?

"Uh. Yes. Here's where it gets twisted..." Garcia said on the loudspeaker. She knew where Emily had just been at the time of the news and she also knew that none of this made sense.

"New Jersey police just found a new body - a female that fits the victimology and an MO that is identical. And here's the thing - she had _just_ been killed. Like, less than an hour ago." Garcia added.

Emily shot a glance at Angela, both of them thinking that it was absolutely impossible that the man they had just spoken to, would turn out to be the killer, as he had stated. They already knew it, but this new information only reinforced their suspicion.

Garcia shared the bunch of crime scene photos with the team, supporting the theory that this murder could surely be attributed to the same killer.

"He didn't cross state lines..." Rossi pointed out.

"It's still serial." Emily murmured.

Angie opened her mouth to say something back to Rossi, but she decided against it. She did not have enough proof to support her new theory.

"Eww, who would do something like that?" JJ cringed, zooming on the stab wounds.

"I would. You would. Anyone would, if someone we love was somehow involved..." Angie pointed out quietly.

Some of the team agreed with her, while others found her suggestion to be absolutely preposterous. This was cruel on so many levels and they just could not picture a possible scenario in which they would find themselves in the shoes of the killer.

"I'd do _way_ worse, if someone I love was involved." Emily was the first one to agree and the only one to be vocal about it.

Everyone knew about her violent streaks when her fight of flight instinct would kick in. They had seen her bomb a car with three people inside, when Ian Doyle was after her, just a few years ago.

"Way...waaay worse..." Emily murmured, reinforcing her statement.

Subconsciously she looked at Angela as she spoke and that made her smile a little.

Emily then also looked at Reid briefly, thinking back of the moment, many years ago, when she had completely lost her mind and had deleted his confession audio from the interrogation room.

"Say it." Rossi challenged Angie who looked like she was now walking on eggshells.

"But…they teach us at the Academy not to just blurt out whatever random thought comes to our mind, in order not to confuse our teammates with unfounded speculations and-…" Angela started off, but got interrupted right away.

"Just say it!" Four voices said in unison.

"Fine. I think the UnSub might be a woman." Angie said with a shrug.

Reid gasped, wondering why on Earth hadn't he already thought of that.

"The stabbing is typically a male MO." JJ pointed out and Angela could not help but roll her eyes.

Had those words come out of anyone else's mouth, she might have been able to contain the urge to react so visibly.

Emily caught that and she smirked. She had been spot on when she had told JJ that Angela won't be bribed into liking her with just some small talk.

JJ just sighed. Everyone had it out for her during that trip.

"Can I talk to you in private?" Angie asked Emily, but she was not ready for the reply she received.

"Anything you need to say right now is something all of my team needs to hear." Emily stated.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea…" Angie whispered to her, but it did not help change her mind.

"Fine then. Imagine a case where a woman scorned was taking revenge…" Angie started off, making Emily feel uncomfortable. "Let's call it The Serpente Case-…"

"Let's not put names to things, okay?" Emily scoffed, remembering an identical case she had once worked on, with the Interpol.

"Point is – we already think there is fowl play with the police that reported the cases to us. What if…" Angie trailed off and she did not like what she was doing. "No, the worst thing to do is to create a theory and then try to prove it. That's a sure set up for failure. This way I can unintentionally ignore good and pretty much obvious clues and I might overlook evidence, because it won't fit my theory…"

"Stop thinking like a Trainee. You're not in class." Tara said, but then immediately regretted her words. Most importantly – her tone of voice.

"Please don't start hating on me, too!" Tara added, aware of the fact that she had quite the authoritarian voice and she had been told multiple times she comes off as rude when speaking, only based on her voice. She hadn't meant to scold Angie now. It had been more of a friendly suggestion.

"I don't hate anyone." Angie's words made JJ raise an eyebrow.

"I've had my suspicion that at least one of the police officers is involved, since we received the case." Emily stated. "Some of the statements had been corrected before they were handed over to the FBI and that sure screams fowl play, to me."

"If that's the case, then working from the Bureau Headquarters was a mistake. We need to be at the police station, looking for clues, analyzing the behavior of the ones involved with this case." Rossi pointed out.

Emily was already dialing a number on her phone. She then made arrangements to move the team to the police station.

* * *

"I'm sorry, but this is the best I could give you." A policeman showed them in and pointed at a small room that was now going to be the base of their operations.

"It will do. We don't need much." Emily said politely, checking out the Police Station as she walked further down the halls.

Everything seemed normal. It was quiet and did not look busy at all. One would never have guessed that there was a multiple homicide investigation going on at the premises. The officers were all calm and nobody was in a rush to do anything. That would surely make it stand out if one of them was acting weird, as if they were guilty or withholding information.

"Put up some bogus investigation board and fill it with random, useless stuff." Emily commanded the team.

There was no chance in Hell she would risk either one of the local officers to walk in on them, with actual evidence hanging on the board.

Half an hour later Emily was giving a speech to whoever was on shift at that moment. She informed the officers that the FBI team was going to need two more people to follow the investigation. It was common knowledge for the profilers that if someone was somehow involved with the case, they might step up and offer their help, inserting themselves in the investigation, to keep up with how it is going and to maybe try to point the FBI in the wrong direction.

Three male officers offered their help and it was a bit frustrating for the team who were now on the lookout for a female, instead.

Emily insisted on checking each one's personal file before she would choose only two, to join them.

It took them half an hour to read those files and none of the men seemed suspicious. Two of them were on their way to making Detective and the third one was somewhat of a Rookie, having joined just a few months back.

"He's suspicious to me." JJ pointed out the third guy. "What Rookie would go after such a high profile case, with no experience whatsoever?"

"Uh, I would." Angela stated. "However, it really _is_ suspicious that he volunteered. Check this out – he was supposed to have the next two days off. Why pass on an opportunity to stay home, with his family? His file says he is married…"

As she spoke, something else stood out.

"Hmm, why not spend two days with his wife?" Angie repeated her question. "They only got married less than a year ago, so don't they need to be still in the honeymoon phase?"

"Not necessarily." Rossi laughed, being the expert in marriage and specifically – _failed_ marriage.

Everyone kind of kept quiet and Angie felt multiple sets of eyes on her.

"What?" She asked defensively.

"I didn't invite you here to be mute and to go on coffee runs." Emily informed the girl.

If Angela thought this was going to be anything like the movies where the new girl had to do all the insignificant small things, she was sadly mistaken. The BAU wanted to hear everything she had to say, about this case.

"But I'm a nobody…" Angie shrugged.

"Put yourself down one more freaking time, I dare you!" Emily scolded her instantly.

She had a thing for girls who thought less of themselves. She _hated_ it.

"Fine then. I don't think a police officer has to do anything with the actual murders. I think someone else is doing them, because of him." Angie said confidently.

"Like, a killer for hire?" Luke asked.

"No, that would be doing the murders _for_ him. I am a very eloquent person and I said that someone else is doing the murders _because_ of him." Angie stated, making Matt grin at how confident she was to talk back at Luke like that.

"Damn, she's feisty…" Luke muttered to himself, blushing a little bit.

He was used to being the macho man, the one women drooled over. And yet, this girl was not intimidated by him and was not afraid to speak her mind and put him in his place, if needed. That was refreshing to him.

"She's also super stressed, now that all of you are staring at her." Angie laughed as she spoke, letting them know she was a bit uncomfortable.

It took quite some balls to admit such a thing, in a room full of profilers, where Angela was doing her absolute best to fit in. She was not scared to let them know how she felt and that made them feel like they could trust her, like she was being honest. A small statement like this one did not go unnoticed, mostly by Rossi and Emily.

"Why don't you take a field trip to check out the latest crime scene?" Emily pointed at Rossi and Reid.

"Actually, Reid will be more valuable here. Why don't _you_ come along with me?" Rossi suggested that little variation and Emily smiled happily. She knew exactly why he had done that.

"Sounds great. Unfortunately, that would also mean that Angela is no longer going to enjoy the AC here." Emily spoke.

"Huh? There is no AC here…" Angie said smartly.

"Shut up and get going." Emily nudged her and Angie was already out the door, not even waiting for a second invite.

They seemed to have an unspoken understanding. Whenever Emily looked at Angela, she reacted, and vice versa. When Angela opened her mouth, Emily often anticipated her thoughts or when Angela reached her hand out to grab something, Emily was already handing it to her. It seemed automatic, spontaneous, almost rehearsed to perfection.

"Oh, Hell no!" Angela shivered when Rossi handed her the car keys as soon as they were downstairs, at the covered parking lot.

"You're not trying to tell me you're the _only_ person on this entire planet who does not want to drive a Federal car, are you?" Rossi raised an eyebrow, surprised at her reaction.

He had attempted to get her excited about the car, maybe as excited as she was about everything else that had the Bureau stamp on it. And that attempt of his had failed.

"That is exactly what I'm saying. I hate cars and I have a good feeling the Federal SUVs are going to hate me, too. So, I'd rather not embark on a relationship I don't think would be mutually satisfying."

Angie's words made Emily blush, just at the connection she made, when relationships and satisfaction were concerned.

"Do you always think with your…?" Angie shot a glance at the zipper of Emily's pants, making her blush even more, now that Rossi also understood just how badly she had misinterpreted Angie's innocent previous statement.

"Well, it was about time someone said it to your face." Rossi shrugged, completely unmoved by Angie's statement, as he looked at Emily for a second before he hopped in the driver's seat himself.

"Yeah, don't you two dare gang up on me. I'm still the Boss around here." Emily faked offense, sticking her tongue at Angela when Rossi was not looking.

She felt free, she felt like the whole conversation was easy, the moment was calm. God knows when was the last time Emily had felt so calm and peaceful around people. Lately, she had been nothing but tense, preoccupied by a million things, eating too much or eating too little, biting her nails and drinking a few more glasses of wine than what she should be, on a daily basis. She had not laughed at a pun in a long time and she hadn't seen Rossi jump at a chance to tease her like that. It all felt natural, not forced. It felt good.

"If you were my Boss, I'd bust your balls and call you Ma'am all the time." Angela laughed, but the ease with which she spoke to Emily alarmed Rossi.

He had already seen how close they were, but something about Angela was throwing him off. She was pretty much constant with her connection to the BAU members – she was okay with everyone and she would not even look at JJ unless she was forced to do so. And yet, with Emily she was hot and cold and that changed about fifty times, during one short conversation. At a moment Rossi could swear those two had known each other their entire lives, with how they were joking around and how easy it was for them to communicate with no words, but a moment later he would be convinced that Angela had no freaking idea who Emily Prentiss was and she was threading lightly, trying to figure this woman out. Sometimes Angie would be borderline obsessed with Emily, other times she would be funny and friendly, and then she would randomly curl into a ball of nerves when she would have to speak about the case, in front of Emily and the entire team. She would always look at Emily for approval, for the tiniest little thing, and she would always lick her bottom lip when she felt nervous, just like Emily usually did.

But the most confusing thing of all was how scarily alike the two of them were, and yet – how completely different they could be, in certain moments.

"Don't you dare, young girl!" Emily replied just as easily. The words rolled out of her mouth and she gave Angie a pretend scolding look.

"Yes, Ma'am!" Angie laughed again. It was great to push Emily's buttons.

Rossi shook his head, upset over not being able to put a word to define that relationship. He had his theory and he knew he was right, and yet sometimes he second-guessed it, as it looked impossible. Angela was extremely hard to read and that reminded him of Emily, back in the days, when they had met. He remembered not knowing a single thing about her, other than her name and her connection to Ambassador Prentiss, which he had learned through whispers down the hallways, not from Emily herself.

She had been a mystery – reserved, carrying the burden of whatever it was, accompanying it by the pain she had tried to hide from everyone when she had joined the BAU. Little by little, her shell had started to melt and she had let people in, but never fully. Rossi remembered certain conversations that he has had with Emily through the years and she had never been fully honest with him. She had shared a little, but she had always hidden the main problem. She was someone who didn't want _anyone_ to figure her out and that was the main similarity she had with Angela.

Rossi started wondering – would Angela open up to him more, if enough time had passed? Would this girl even get the chance to spend enough time with the Unit that she so clearly felt attracted to? Selfishly, would _he_ still have time with her, after Big-Little Week was over? He had so many questions about her that he felt like his head was spinning, just thinking about them.

"Dave?" Emily searched for his attention, noticing how focused he was on the street and how deep in thought he was, while driving.

"Yes?" He replied.

"Did you not hear anything I just said?" Emily asked rhetorically.

Of course he did not. She knew he must have been thinking about Angela. It was obvious, with those little glances he was shooting her as he drove.

Emily then repeated the plan of action that she had just told both him and Angela about. They were going to arrive at the latest crime scene in about half an hour and she wanted them to be prepared.

* * *

"And there are no surveillance cameras around?" Emily asked once again, upset at the lack of things and clues that the team could make use of.

She had been walking left and right, checking out the entrance of the house of the latest victim, trying to figure something out.

"This makes no sense. How would the killer be a woman who has access to all these random houses? How is it possible that nobody ever saw her car arrive or leave?" Emily muttered unhappily.

"Who said she came by car? She could have passed for a street vendor? A new neighbor, trying to salute everyone on the street?" Angela suggested.

"No. That would point to random victimology and we have specific type of women as victims. One wouldn't stumble upon such nearly identical women, just by knocking at doors." Rossi ruined a huge part of Angie's suggestion, but she didn't mind. If she was wrong, she wanted to know it and to know _why_.

"She might be right about the 'no car' thing…" Emily said after a moment of silence.

"Actually, yes. It's a nice area, lots of houses, there's a small park down the street, so it wouldn't really be that surprising to see someone walk around." Rossi pointed out.

"A dog…what if the UnSub was walking a dog? She could still be knocking on people's doors, trying to find the perfect next victim who would fit with her fantasy." Angie suggested a slight improvement to her previous statement.

"Let me put this nicely – he wants you to get the idea of the UnSub walking around aimlessly, out of your head." Emily told her before she smiled at Rossi apologetically.

He felt a bit weird, but what Emily had translated was pretty much exactly how he felt about Angela's suggestion. It was highly improbable and he didn't want her to waste any more time, trying to support that theory, if it didn't make sense in the first place.

"Okay." Angie muttered and walked inside the house.

When they reached the bedroom, they found out that the victim's body had not yet been moved, as Emily had requested over the phone. Good, at least one thing went right.

Rossi was beyond curious to see Angie's reaction. He had already heard JJ's theory that Angie would scream like a baby and run to the yard, probably to throw up and cry, as soon as she saw her first cadaver on the job.

However, her reaction surprised him. Or rather – her lack of a reaction surprised him. She scanned the body with her eyes and tried to figure out the angles of the knife, judging by the stab wounds. It was nearly impossible to do that with precision, without a medical examiner present, but at least she was trying and she was beyond curious. She followed protocol, not touching the body or moving any object inside the house. She had put a pair of gloves on since they were still in the car earlier and she had put her hair in a ponytail, trying not to pollute the crime scene, in case a hair decided to go rogue and to fall on a surface that would be examined later on by the evidence response team.

Rossi did not see Angie cringe, not even once. She looked pretty at ease and very focused. It was all jokes and laughter with her, when they were gathered in a non-formal setting, but she was professional and collected, precise and careful when in a working environment. Was she trying to score 'nice' points by '_The_ David Rossi', as she liked to call him? Or was it just that she was always like this? She wasn't even perfect at what she did, but what made her great was the fact that even when she failed, even when she pitched a silly thing, she listened to her feedback and learned from that mistake. That was the one quality that _The_ David Rossi had always looked for, in a young and aspiring Agent.

"This is personal…" Angie whispered after four minutes of careful inspection of the body, while not breaking protocol for even the smallest thing.

"It's impossible that the UnSub knew the victims. The MO proves it." Rossi stated, not even trying to argue with each and every word that Angela was saying now, but it just came out that way.

"Exactly." Angie's confirmation confused him. Did she not just say the opposite?

"It's personal…but not between the UnSub and the victims. Those have no direct connection…there is something else…" Angie kept on muttering.

She couldn't care less who heard her words. She was simply coming up with her own conclusions after what she had seen so far.

"Or _someone_ else?" Emily suggested.

"Yes, someone!" Angie snapped her head, turning around to face Emily.

And then it all started – a weird conversation in which they both added to each other's statements and spoke to one another with words that made no sense to anyone else but the two of them.

"Jealousy…" Angie whispered after she decided that Emily's suggestion that someone else was involved, was valid.

"Rage…" Emily added, looking at the stab wounds.

"Revenge…"

"Hmm, anger…"

"Like a jungle…"

"A tribe…"

"No. Animals…"

"A lion…"

"Lioness!" Angela corrected.

"…protecting her cub?"

"No. Sexual component is present."

"Protecting her _man_?"

"What a dumb animal. Plenty of lions out there for her to catch if he strayed…" Angela trailed off after Emily eyed her up and down, as if to try and get her head back in the case, not so much life itself.

"Strayed?" Emily thought for a second.

"Hmm…"

"Mhm…"

They kept on staring at each other for the longest moment, in silence.

Rossi wondered whether he should interrupt, but this scene was way too entertaining for him, so he let it unfold naturally.

"Betrayal?"

"Lust?"

"No. Incapacity…" Angie's eyes darted to the stab wounds – in the lower abdomen, the heart, the inner thighs.

"Punishment."

"Like she didn't want him to have what he could not have with her…"

"With nobody else…"

"Mhm, yup." Angie nodded.

"Denial…"

"How could he do this to me? Why would he go to someone else?" Angie now spoke, putting herself in the shoes of the killer.

"Perfect on the outside. Power couple. Rotten on the inside. Unhappy home life?"

"Broken marriage?" Angie suggested.

"Mhh, nope. Perfect marriage, more likely. The kind of perfect that only exists on stage…"

"…But behind the scenes there is mess?" Angie finished Emily's sentence and she nodded in reply.

"Bull's eye on the husband…" Angie added, speaking in mysterious tone, as if she was telling a story.

"Screw him. Bull's eye on the _wife_!" Emily corrected her.

"Screw him?" Angie raised an eyebrow.

What Emily had meant figuratively, helped Angela come up with a new theory.

"What if she did?" Angie pointed at the victim.

"Did what?"

"Screw the husband!" Angie pointed out and it hit Emily.

"The jealousy, the rage in the killings…they were revenge for the husband's infidelity!"

Rossi kept on looking from Emily to Angela and back, with his lips slightly parted and his eyes not believing the symbiosis between the two of them. He had never seen Emily work in such perfect unison with anyone else. Ever!

"The heart…" Angie started to theorize. "Stab it, because he broke yours."

"The abdomen…" Emily mirrored Angela's way of speaking. "Stab it because she couldn't give you what you wanted."

"A child?"

Emily nodded. This was exactly what she had in mind.

"Impotent husband?" Angie asked.

"Not if he tried to have a child with _any_ other woman who reminded him of his own wife."

"So, the wife must have a problem conceiving naturally?" Angie asked again and Emily nodded.

"And she must be obsessed with the idea of having her own child. Biological child." Emily added.

"A lot of people are." Angie sighed.

"I don't get them. I would never care if she was biological. I'd love her anyway. She would _always_ be mine. _Forever_ mine!" Emily had spun a bit out of control, mumbling those words without realizing she was doing so.

It felt like she was talking to herself, like she had done a million times before - talking about someone hypothetical, someone that didn't seem to exist. However, this time her thoughts had turned into a mumbled confession and two people were there to hear it.

"Erhmm…" Angie cleared her throat, trying to mask up for the awkwardness that Emily had created for herself, before Rossi would catch up on it all.

Rossi seemed distracted, measuring the distance between two objects during that split second when Emily had lost her mind.

Emily acted calm and collected, since Rossi was visibly clueless. She was already way too honest and straightforward with Angela anyways, so she didn't care _what_ and _how much_ of her thoughts Angela would hear her confess out loud.

"We need to call the team and deliver the profile." Emily stated.

"To whom? To the same police officers whom we are now watching under a microscope?" Rossi challenged her.

"Damn." Emily cursed underneath her breath.

The three of them walked out and started walking down the street, trying to avoid being overheard before Rossi dialed JJ's number and asked her to put Garcia on, as well.

"Excuse me?" An elderly woman called out for them.

She had been out on her porch all day, entertaining herself with some gossip about the neighbor's house that was now surrounded by police cars.

"Are you police?" The woman asked.

"Ma'am, we are with the FBI." Emily presented them by name and Angie smirked, hearing her name as if she was an Agent, too.

"Oh, for a robbery?" The elder woman asked.

"No, Ma'am. I'm afraid there has been a homicide." Emily said calmly before the woman started making cross signs and prayer gestures, looking up and mumbling something in Spanish.

Angie sat in the chair near hers and she held her hand, looking at her as she freaked out over the news that Emily had just broken to her.

She then asked her something in Spanish and the woman started rambling quickly.

"Basically, she saw a woman walking towards the victim's house today at noon and she thought it was the victim herself. She said the height, the hair and the body built was similar. The woman she saw was carrying a small dog in her hands and she was quite happy to see that her neighbor had finally bought the dog she had always wanted. Clearly, she did not see her neighbor, but the UnSub, who walked in the house and walked out of there about twenty minutes later, but she was wearing a different shirt and the dog was no longer with her. She also asked if we would like some of her homemade lemon curd cake and some tea, which we do…don't we?" Angie added her last words, shooting a hopeful glance over to Emily, as if she was asking for her permission.

"Yes, we do." Emily replied, against all better judgment.

She was starving, cranky and had a sweet tooth that could almost beat Angie's.

Almost.

"She said all that in under twenty seconds?" Rossi was impressed. "Plus, I thought you only spoke a _little_ Spanish…" He added, raising his eyebrow.

"I like you. You and I are friends!" Angie stated jokingly, looking at Emily before she replied to Rossi. "Yes. Latino grandparents have the ability to tell a story in detail in under a minute, as that is just about as much time they would have the attention of their Latino grandkids' attention for before they run off to wherever, doing whatever." Angie stated, as if she was speaking from experience.

"I want to be friends, too! I love pie and tea!" Garcia yelled, reminding them that Rossi had actually dialed JJ, who had, in turn, added Garcia in the conversation, so pretty much the entire BAU was now hearing what was going on.

"We need to go do our job. Please, have some tea and an extra piece of pie for us and try to calm down, okay? Everything will be alright and things will get back to normal, around the neighborhood. You don't need to worry, nobody is going to harm you or your family." Angie said softly, speaking in Spanish to the woman whose hand she was still holding in a very caring manner.

Rossi checked out that non-verbal communication and it made him smile. So, Angela was not terrified by human contact? Or rather – she was not terrified only when _she_ was the one initiating it, herself.

The elder woman stood up and commanded them not to move, showing them who the real authority figure was. A minute later she walked out with an entire lemon curd pie, wrapped in a huge paper towel, after which she handed them three paper cups, filled with green tea with a squeeze of fresh lemon in it.

"Muchas gracias!" Emily thanked the woman politely before they finally kept on walking.

"Will anyone tell us what is going on? We have found nothing so far." JJ's voice came from Rossi's phone and he looked around, figuring they were far enough to not be overheard, before they updated the team with what they had seen at the crime scene.

"The UnSub is a tall, young and athletic woman, in her early 30's…" Emily started off with the base profile, right after they described the crime scene details to everyone else on the phone.

"She is married to someone who works in law enforcement and unable to provide a child for their family, hence why he felt the need to find himself a female of her built and stature, to try and have a child with." Angie added, once again falling into that routine of completing Emily's sentences and then letting her do the same, with her own.

"He may or may not be aware that his wife is the UnSub, but we have reason to believe she is tracking down all the women he had been with and punishing them for her husband's infidelity." Emily added.

"He may have his suspicions as of recently, when he made the connection between the victims and figured out they were all women he had been intimate with since his marriage, which points to him having sporadic randez vous moments with random women that he probably doesn't even remember the names of..." Angie cringed. "Men. Ugh!" She added, sounding irritated.

"The UnSub is driven by her own guilt - not being able to reproduce, so by stabbing all the victims in the abdomen she figuratively makes sure none of them could, either. This is her final revenge for her husband." Emily continued.

"But...she seems to know how we operate..." Angie then remembered more details she had seen at the crime scene. "The room was staged, as if there had been a fight. But the neighbor never heard any commotion and she had pretty good hearing, for her age. So, why stage it..."

"To throw us off." Emily replied Angela's question.

"How do you throw a group of Federal Agents off?" Angie smirked and this time she replied to herself. "By being one of them. Not necessarily a Fed, but in law enforcement. Garcia? Look for anyone who is actively a police officer in this area of New York, married to a woman who fits the physical description Emily gave you and who is in the Police Academy."

"Academy?" Emily raised an eyebrow. This came out of nowhere.

"Yes. Trying to fool the Feds is a rookie mistake. Never to be made again!" The words rolled off Angie's tongue before she could help it, once again sounding like she was speaking from experience. "I mean...so I've been told...by...uh...people." She added lamely, making Rossi wonder what the heck had Angela possibly gotten herself into before the Academy.

"My point is - we learn stuff like crime staging, at the Academy. It's one of the first things they teach us to look out for. So the UnSub could not be too further into the Academy. And she clearly knows nothing about profiling if she made it so easy for us to figure her out so quickly. So she must be pining for a patrol officer, rather than a detective." Angie added.

"I'm working...my fingers are typing and my nails are screeching against the keyboard..." Garcia informed them that she was still there, listening to everything and already launching her search.

"Look for someone who doesn't show much potential to be a police officer, but who has shown huge interest in the profession, like she would have something to prove." Emily told Garcia.

"So, basically, you're saying I can be a psychopath who would start killing off people?" Angie joked with Emily quickly.

"Say it ain't so." Emily joked back and found it funny until she saw Angie frown.

Even when she knew it was a fake frown, a playful reaction to her teasing, it still broke her heart to have put anything but a smile on the girl's face.

"Awh, I'm joking! The UnSub, like I said, would be showing little-to-no potential at all. You are the mere opposite of that. You, my dear, scream 'BAU'." Emily smiled brightly.

Angela perked up instantly. Those words were like music to her ears.

The team kept quiet, letting just Emily and Angela talk to them, while Garcia gasped and muttered things in between, while trying to come up with a search that fit everything she had just been told.

"Prentiss, where's Rossi?" Matt asked.

"I'm here, sipping on my tea." Rossi replied with a tiny smile.

He had gladly given the spotlight to the two females, letting them take over and brief the team. It made him weirdly proud to see how enthusiastic Angela was and how well she took direction – whenever Emily would say something, Angela would interpret it the very same way that Emily meant it, even if Emily hadn't been too eloquent about it. Rossi also found pride in the fact that it had been _his_ books that Angela worshipped and _his_ books that she quoted during different parts of the investigation.

Once they returned to the Precinct, they continued working on the profile and trying to make sense of everything until late in the evening.

* * *

"Good morning." JJ said sleepily, the very next morning.

They had spent the rest of the previous day, searching for anyone who could fit the profile they had come up with. However, not even Penelope was able to help out much. Everyone had their own doubts about the profile and some – namely Reid and Tara, were getting a bit frustrated with the lack of results. Others – like Emily, Angela and JJ, stood firmly behind the profile. Something else was not adding up. They had all the facts, but the way they played with the puzzle pieces was all wrong.

"Let's hope it's a better day than yesterday," Emily said grumpily. She really was _not_ a morning person.

"Dr. Reid?" Angie called out for him, on their way downstairs for breakfast.

They walked slower than the rest of the team, staying behind for a moment.

"Do you really believe we have the entire profile wrong?" Angie asked curiously.

"Not the _entire_ thing, but some of it – yes." He replied.

"Do you have another theory? I would hate it if everyone was wasting their time, only looking at what I only half suspected from the start." She offered humbly.

"Not really. At some point I thought we were dealing with a team of killers, with one of them being the Alpha, but it wouldn't make sense if it was the female. Not to be anti-feminism and all that, but it just makes no sense in this case."

Angie chuckled at his words.

"I have to admit, the thought crossed my mind as well. What if the female was the submissive one?" Angie thought out loud.

"Can't be, either." He shrugged casually.

She loved the way he was always so sure of his words. It was inspiring.

"What if there are two females?" She asked again.

"Two UnSubs makes no sense, with this MO. One is doing the planning and the killings. The other person involved might not even know they are involved. Or they may have a good reason to not come forward. But only _one_ is the UnSub."

"Like, being in law enforcement and thinking they could get away with concealing crimes and fooling us about the killer's identity?" Angie asked and Reid nodded. "But…why?"

"If your theory from yesterday is valid, those were crimes of passion, the crimes of a woman scorned. Maybe _she_ is the one in law enforcement?"

Angie shook her head at his words.

"Nope. Can't be. She's too amateur for that. She can't even be a Rookie, as that would leave her no time to go commit the crimes and go back to work in her work clothes. Plus, it makes no sense…the crimes were committed in broad daylight, when she would have been on shift. She couldn't possibly change clothes to go kill someone and then go hide behind the badge again. And we have a witness who has seen the killer in plain clothes…but damn it, that was from a far and we couldn't get a good description. Ugh. This is frustrating." Angie stomped her foot lightly.

"Relax those nerves. You can't let them control you." Rossi came up from behind them.

He had been walking five steps behind and he had overheard a good portion of their last few verbal exchanges. It was tickling his curiosity – to see how this girl thought, how she acted, how she came to her own conclusions, especially if he was not around. He already knew she wanted to impress him and he could feel she was under pressure to perform well in his presence, but eavesdropping on her and any other member of the team, was precious. He drew his own conclusions about her.

"Take a breath." Rossi said with a smile. "Now, start from the beginning. What do we know?"

"Not much. We only have a profile that has not given us a single suspect so far." She shrugged.

"And a bogus confession." Rossi added with a smirk.

"Oh, she told you about that?" Angie sighed with relief.

She was the Queen of secrets, but when it came to hiding valuable information from her team, she was a bit wary, but Emily had asked her to keep quiet about the false confession, so she literally had no other choice.

"She kind of _had_ to." Rossi laughed. "It surprises me that you were able to keep quiet about the interrogation."

"Oh, I'm full of surprises…" She trailed off.

If only Rossi knew…

"Hey guys!" Matt and Luke greeted the three of them as they neared the breakfast table as well.

Everyone sat down and grabbed a cup of coffee before Rossi announced that Angela was going to break down what they knew, so they could maybe come up with new ideas.

"Alright, so far we suspect foul play with the local police station that invited us on the case. It couldn't be anyone in the higher positions, as they would have evited bringing the FBI along, if their sole aim was to fool us around and make us look the other way. So it must be just a police officer, one of the many. Now, he must be covering for a female who…" She started off, but soon realized how hard it was to put her own thoughts into words – quickly, eloquently and efficiently, so that everyone could follow her own train of thought.

"A female who is our UnSub. The woman scorned. She plots revenge on anyone her husband had cheated on her with. The reason must be personal. We already had Garcia go through everyone's records, but she came up with no female spouse of any police officer, unable to conceive. So, maybe this is where we went wrong with our profile…" Emily continued Angie's words, helping her out a little bit.

Angie smiled, seeing that even the Unit Chief trailed off and needed a moment to think before they continued speaking. So, maybe it was normal to not be able to speak perfectly and be absolutely precise with everything, all the time. That was a relief!

"But it must be true, because why else would a female UnSub attack the female victims' reproductive organs?" Angie pointed out a fact that reinforced their profile.

"Jealousy?" Emily suggested.

"So, could it be that the _male_ in the family is impotent? And the wife is simply attacking his mistresses? But then again, if he wanted kids, why not try with his own wife? Why cheat on her with multiple others? Why have a specific type of woman he'd always cheat with, if they look nothing like his wife? I mean, Garcia was unable to find a spouse with the height, ethnicity and built of the victims…" Angie murmured.

"What if they are not even married?" Emily had already figured something out, but she was giving Angela time to come to that conclusion as well.

"Engaged? That would make sense – if one of them…no wait. I mean – if the male found out it was hard to start a family, he must have been in denial, he must have blamed his wife. He may have gone to the doctor and he may already know it is _his_ fault – and I use the term 'fault' in a very metaphoric way, given the touchy subject." Angie excused herself before someone would think she was being insensitive.

"He must have taken his denial to a whole new level then, trying to get other women pregnant – women that look like his wife. What's there to lose? He loves his wife, wait, no…his fiancé, so yeah…he loves his fiancé and he is obviously attracted to her, so by finding a woman who resembles her, he thinks he can start a family with her instead and still like her as much. It's easier to switch to a new partner, I mean, they aren't even really married yet, so there is nothing stopping him." Angie remained short out of breath after that downpour.

She also felt a little less guilty for trailing off and taking a second to correct herself while speaking. If Emily could do so and not be judged for it, then Angela could, too.

"I'm not finished yet!" She said breathlessly when she saw Emily open her mouth, wanting to speak.

Her little outburst, combined with the way she so effortlessly shut the Unit Chief up, made some of the team members suppress a chuckle. If it had been anyone else, outside the BAU team, Emily would have bit their head off, chewed it up and spit it back in place, on top of their shoulders. But with Angela she just smiled, with a weird look on her face. She seemed…proud.

"He cheated, wanting desperately to not be the reason why he couldn't have the family he wanted. So, he kept on trying, with different women. And his fiancé must have learned about it. I have no idea what her problem is, I mean – her trigger, but at some point she flipped a switch and she started killing her doppelgangers off, wanting her fiancé all to herself. What if he broke off the engagement? What if he managed to get another woman pregnant, instead? Wait, no, that won't make sense, because then it would mean he _can_ actually reproduce. Ugh!" Angela groaned unhappily and took a sip of her coffee.

"Is she always this energetic and bubbly?" Matt asked rhetorically. Having four kids of his own, he was not a morning person and he would never be able to have such a clear mind, as Angela, despite her confusion with a few parts of the profile.

"Pretty much." Emily replied to his question anyway, before she looked back at Angela.

"Don't look for the obvious." Emily said to her, as if she was reminding her something Angela must have heard of, in class.

"If this revolves around having children…" Angie licked her bottom lip inadvertently. She could not have had a more Prentiss-like reaction, even if she tried to.

"What if this is not about _having_ one? What if it is about _losing_ one?" Angie added, feeling like she had just cracked the entire case. For some reason, that theory sounded right, it was the first time that she had felt good about this case, even if the suggestion was farfetched.

"Seriously? A woman would go on a killing spree after losing a child?" Tara asked. She was more than confused. She was a woman, but she could never imagine being in the shoes of the UnSub.

"Yes!" Emily replied instantly.

Rossi shot her a glance, but said nothing. The confusion in everyone's eyes led him to believe Emily had never shared certain things from her past, with any of them.

JJ then said her two cents and everyone else jumped in, enriching the profile they had come up with, the day before. In the end, and after a very long breakfast, they had an improved profile – one that Garcia could finally work with.

Before lunch they were able to rule out all the married officers and to focus on the other ones, primarily. However, no connection to such a woman popped up.

"Bloody Hell!" Angela muttered to herself, on their way to lunch that day.

"Dude, you sounded so British!" Luke pointed out, having overheard that slight accent that inevitably popped up when she used a British slang expression.

"Wow, so intuitive! Apparently you don't keep him around just for the looks." Angie nudged Emily, teasing Luke with her words.

"Oh, says Little Miss Fairy, with the snappy attitude and the golden smile." He teased her right back.

"Kids…behave!" Emily scolded them jokingly, just because it felt good to do so.

Angela did not mind. Luke felt awkward, however. This was his Boss, scolding him like a child.

"Oh, look at that – the Master turns out to be the submissive one." Luke smirked, noticing how much Angela enjoyed Emily's words.

"Goddamn!" Emily gasped out loud, nearly tripping on the small flight of stairs that led to the restaurant of their choice.

"I do not freaking need to know these things! God help me, I need new ears. Eww!" She added, placing her hands over her ears in a very demonstrative way and darting forward before she could hear any more teasing going on between these two.

In fact, she was happy that Angela was creating different vibes with the different team members. The one thing she regretted was that she never had the chance to meet JJ – the real JJ, the fun JJ, her best friend JJ.

As they all set around the table, different little conversations started. Angie kept quiet at the beginning, eavesdropping on everything that was going on. She was curious to know everything about everyone and she knew she only had a few more days left to enjoy this sweet little dream of hers.

"How about you?" Tara asked her, noticing Angie's lack of words.

"Me…what?" Angie asked.

She had been busy listening to some theory that Reid was explaining to JJ at that moment, so she had no idea what Tara and Matt were currently discussing when Tara decided to bring her into that conversation.

"What's the most dumb and dangerous thing you've ever done in your life?" Tara repeated the question.

"I gave someone complete control over me." Angie replied quickly, as if she did not need time to even think about it.

"I meant – dangerous, as in risky, stupid, highly uncharacteristic of you." Tara tried to rephrase it, wondering if Angela even understood the question.

"Yes. That." Angie nodded, not changing her previous reply.

Emily pursed her lips. Being somewhat of a 'mom' within the group, she had the ability to overhear everything and whenever Angela was involved, she was surely listening even more intently.

"What about you?" This time it was Angela who brought Emily into the conversation. She was well aware that the big Boss was following her every move, listening to her every word.

"I screwed someone over, whatever my intentions really might have been." Emily replied quickly as well.

"Ah, this is wonderful." Tara exclaimed. "No work-related talk. Just some small talk about random things."

Angie looked away for a second. This was not small. Not to her. This was the worst thing she had ever done to herself or rather – the worst thing she had allowed someone to do to her.

"What?" Tara sensed that her words had offended both Angela and Emily. "You two profilers should know that the healing process only starts after admitting the problem out loud. And you both just did. Who knows? Maybe you're starting to heal from whatever happened in your past?" She added, shooting both of them consecutive glances.

"I doubt that." Angela said bitterly after checking out Emily's confused facial expression.

"Yeah. To some people even death sounds like a better option, than to admit their problem out loud." Emily didn't sound any more cheerful than Angela just now.

If they were talking about the same thing, it would look like they were going at each other with subtle digs. However, none of them had gone into details about their story, so Tara just shrugged it off and decided that this was yet one more of their weird little verbal communications that didn't make sense to anyone else, but the two of them.

"I just can't imagine you ever doing anything illegal anyways." Reid butted in, having overheard Tara's question previously.

"That's what everyone tells me." Angie fluttered her eyes in the most innocent of ways.

She might have been able to fool Reid, but Emily knew this girl was capable of stuff. And so did Rossi. JJ was still under the impression that Angie would pass out on her first real crime scene visit, which reminded Emily of something she needed to share with everyone.

"So, guys, I never told you, but Angela was a real trooper in New Jersey…" Emily started off, telling them how professionally Angela had handled herself the previous day.

It definitely improved Angela's mood, which had been a bit weird ever since Tara had asked that question. Angela despised having to talk about herself, especially about her past. It was nothing personal against whoever was asking. It just was what it was and she could not help it.

"She didn't pass out?" JJ said with her jaw dropped.

"No, she did not." Angela replied, instead of Emily, speaking about herself in third person.

Apparently, she had still not opened up to the possibility of being JJ's friend.

"I meant that as a compliment…" JJ shrugged, taking a sip of water before she spoke again. "It's actually really cool that you were able to be so focused and calm. I remember _my_ first crime scene. Jesus, I don't think I'll ever forget _that_!"

Suddenly, Angie's mood shifted again.

"Oh?" She asked curiously. "Why?"

"Let's just say that if I had to answer Tara's previous question about the worst thing that has ever happened to me in my life, I'd say it was that night. And I'll leave it at that." JJ replied shortly, grimacing just at the thought of that first case she had been assigned on.

"The question was about the worst thing that you have done yourself, in life…" Angie corrected her, sounding like the smart ass in school.

She didn't mean to, but it was crucial she'd point that out, because if the question had been formulated the way JJ mentioned, Angela's answer would have been completely different than what she had told Tara.

"Sorry. I tend to come off as a know-it-all. I'm actually not. Sadly." Angela apologized immediately, realizing her mistake.

It didn't go unnoticed by the team. Everyone knew she wasn't a fan of JJ's, but to hear her apologize so sincerely, for such a small thing, showed them how good of a person she was, even with the ones she seemed to dislike.

Their orders started to arrive and that changed the topic of the current conversation. They were now discussing favorite foods.

"Indian food!" Matt replied the question that had originally been asked by Reid.

"Italian food. Obviously." Rossi laughed it off. Everyone expected him to say that.

"I kind of change my mind about it all the time." Emily shrugged when she saw Rossi look at her, awaiting her reply.

"Ah, the Queen of Take Out has spoken!" JJ teased her.

"I used to call this weird new Thai take away restaurant quite often and then I just got bored of it and I switched back to Mexican. So now, I don't know what I like, because I'm starting to get bored of that, too." Emily stated proudly.

"You always switch back to Mexican when everything else fails you." JJ pointed out and it was true. Emily had always loved Mexican, in different moments of her life.

"I can't help going back to what I love." Emily smiled. She wasn't even talking about food at that specific moment.

"It's hard not to go back to what you love…" Angie muttered to herself, smiling a little, but smiling through pain.

"My favorite is Puerto-Rican food." Luke said, proud of his heritage, before he looked at Angela, who was the only one who hadn't yet answered that question.

"_Free_ food. God, I love it." Angie, once again, came up with a reply that was both honest and entertaining. "Although, I'd pay mad cash for some tembleque right now." She added, licking her lips.

"Coconut pudding kind of girl?" Luke pointed out, impressed that she even knew the word for that desert that was typical for his native country.

"_Dessert_ kind of girl." She corrected him, letting everyone know she could be corrupted with sweets – any time.

They all made it a point not to ruin their lunch with work talk. They had already ruined their breakfast with it, even if it ended up serving a purpose. But lunch was sacred and they needed to clear their heads, so they could face the rest of the day.

"Hey?" Angie called out after lunch.

A whole bunch of heads turned to check out if she was calling _them_, but she pointed at JJ instead.

"Are you okay?" She asked silently.

"I mean, about that case…" She added when JJ failed to understand the question.

Angie felt a bit responsible for having brought it up, even if she didn't do so directly. In whatever way, she felt like she had to check in on JJ, especially since she had already figured out that woman was having her own personal drama going on, on top of this crazy stressful job, her recent scolding by her Boss and her near fallout with her best friend – said Boss.

"It was fifteen years ago-…" JJ started to sugarcoat it, but Angela was smarter.

"The question was not how long ago it happened, but how do you feel about it right now, right here…are you okay?" Angie said confidently.

JJ checked her out for a second – the girl was much younger and still, she stood tall, with her chin up and her head held high, as she challenged her to answer the question. She knew it was coming from a place of good, it was obvious.

"I don't like talking about it." JJ shrugged.

She was more than not okay, but she wouldn't bother anyone with the specifics, let alone someone who was so headstrong on walking the path JJ had walked. Angela was bound to have her own nightmares, her own unsolved cases that would drive her insane, her own daemons that would haunt her forever, based on decisions she might have taken years ago.

JJ simply walked away, suddenly walking in the opposite direction to their room. She needed a moment. The memory of what had happened was too vivid and she needed to cool off a little before she'd be able to work. She also had an incoming audio message from Will, which she had been postponing on hearing since this morning, so she had enough on her plate already, without having to add years of pent up trauma to the mix.

"For the love of God, JJ…" Emily called out after her.

Of course she had witnessed the little scene. Did Angela ever do anything that did go unnoticed by Emily?

"That's not how you win her over." Emily added, trying to sit next to JJ who had found a flight of stairs now and had wasted no time in pretending like the top of the steps was a bench, or a chair, or whatever thing that it was okay to sit on. She just needed to feel steady ground underneath her.

"No…" JJ whispered, placing her hand on the spot where Emily intended to sit, thus preventing her to do so. "I need a moment. Please?"

"Of course." Emily gulped.

Clearly this was a serious matter, if just the mere mention of something had hit JJ so hard.

"We'll be in the room. Take all the time you need. Let me know if you want me to take you off the case and send you back home. And no, I don't mean that as a punishment. Maybe a few days off will help you relax." Emily suggested.

"Home is the last place on Earth I'd like to be at, right now." JJ rolled her eyes.

She loved her kids, but it was hard to see her family struggle to be together, in the same room. She had been forced to smile and act like nothing was wrong, during family dinner time and breakfast time, so that Henry and Michael won't notice something was going on, but the truth was – she was relieved to be out the door each morning and stressed out to have to walk back in, each night.

* * *

As the day progressed, the team kept analyzing every little piece of information they had. Garcia hadn't yet found the person they were looking for and the team hadn't been able to figure out which one of the police officers was the one involved.

Angela kept her quiet at times when the team was focused and she kept them entertained those other times when she felt like they were in dire need of a laugh or two.

Rossi kept noticing small things about this girl – how good she was at figuring out what someone needed at different moments through the day. He had seen her approach Tara when she was about to kick a chair across the meeting room, desperate from the lack of results. She also spoke to Garcia on the phone, walking her through something gruesome and making sure Garcia wouldn't find it way too disturbing. At some point, Angela went out for a coffee run and she brought back the coffee that Emily and Matt had wanted, but she also brought one for JJ, who hadn't even asked for a drink.

Before the evening came, Angie sat with Reid, picking his brain once again, as he was still not convinced their profile was as good as the rest of the team claimed it to be. They came up with a tiny little improvement that finally allowed Garcia to scratch a few more policemen off her long list of suspects, narrowing it down to a number that the BAU could work with more efficiently.

"Twelve." Garcia announced on the phone, after yet another search had completed. "None of whom are married, but they are engaged or in a serious relationship anyway."

"Thanks, Garcia." Emily muttered.

Twelve was still too big of a number. This was the second full day on the job, not counting Monday afternoon, and they still felt like they were nowhere.

At that same moment, Luke was playing some trick on Angela and trying to distract her.

"Stop! Jesus, you're such a stalker!" Angie said, faking being irritated.

It was fun to mess around with him. He reminded her of Bryan and they had this easygoing relationship where they would mess around with each other and pretend to be upset, but it was all good. Angela respected people who were not afraid to challenge her, to tease her, to get on her nerves a little bit. She hated it when people treated her like she was a feather, it annoyed her genuinely. Thankfully, nobody at the BAU was like that. They were tough, just enough, and then they were cool and chill, just like she enjoyed it.

"Oh my God!" Angie gasped right after she half-insulted Luke.

"That's what I make all of them scream…" Luke smirked, hoping he hadn't pushed his teasing a bit too far.

"Eww! Shut up. You are so full of yourself. Ugh." Angie faked annoyance once again, making him laugh.

"Stalking! What if _that's_ the case?" Angie pointed out, unsure if the team was even listening to her anymore.

She had been speaking nonstop, ever since they had asked for her opinion. If she had to be honest with herself, she felt like she fit right in, with them. She wasn't being treated like anything less than the other profilers. If anything – they were constantly asking her thoughts about things, they let her analyze the evidence first, so they could correct her if she was wrong, instead of doing it all themselves and having this entire week be a huge waste of time for her, if she learned nothing from first-hand experience.

"Tell me more…" Emily sat on top of the meeting room table and motioned for everyone to gather around.

"What if we were unable to find the UnSub, because she isn't a policeman's wife, nor fiancé. What if she is a stalker and he maybe has no idea who she really is? Think about it – the rage and the MO fit with the profile of an organized, psychopathic serial killer, with a narcissistic syndrome and stalking is the first plausible suspicion we should have when it comes to such an individual. What if she somehow knows the policeman and she is convinced in her own mind that he belongs to her, but for whatever reason they cannot be together and that…" Angie trailed off for a second before she would start being chaotic with her words.

"…That was the trigger? Maybe something happened and the UnSub felt like she was being let down by the policeman and she started the spree?" Angie added, wording it to the best of her abilities. Sadly, it still had a lot of 'what if' and 'maybe' in it.

"I think she might be onto something here. It certainly fits the narrative – stalking, revenge after being pushed away. But there is also this rage, this undeniable sexual component, as if there was something between them…" Rossi commented. "I don't think they are complete strangers. This feels personal."

"That's true. But in your book 'Eyes Of A Predator' you wrote about the exclusions from the rules, when it comes to sexually driven major crimes. Chapter seven, to be exact." Angie closed her eyes for a moment, trying to remember the exact words.

"_A fantasy would only make sense to the UnSub and if the evidence collected does not allow us to finish the puzzle, then we need to look at it differently_." She quoted. "Maybe it's not a puzzle we need to be playing with, maybe it's a completely different game. Sexually driven major crimes have to do with lust, revenge and disappointment, but what is the one thing they always have in common?" Angie didn't mean to, but she was challenging Rossi – the mere author of the book she was quoting.

"The forbidden…" He recalled.

Back in the days he had done some extensive research and he had hated writing this chapter. He liked rules – perfectly square puzzle pieces that fit tightly next to one another, forming the perfect puzzle. Angela, however, seemed to be enjoying the unknown, she liked to think outside the box and the more challenging something was, the more into it she seemed.

"Exactly! What if the UnSub knows it is impossible to be with the police officer and she extracts revenge against the women he can actually be with?" Angie suggested.

"Why wouldn't a woman be able to be with a man?" Matt asked, missing the point.

"The forbidden!" Emily warmed up to what Angela was trying to say.

"Incest!" She added.

"Precisely! What if the connection is through _family_, not through the _wish to start a family_ together? We were right about the family factor, we were just looking at it all wrong! The UnSub knows she can never have her family with this man, because they already have some sort of a family connection." Angie said, flipping some of the numerous papers she had printed after Garcia had sent them out.

"Scratch the single guys out completely!" She suggested, placing aside some officers' documents.

For someone who was not even a Rookie herself, not even halfway done with her Academy training, she sure felt in her element, analyzing everything and speaking out when she had something to say. She was confident, but not overly confident. She was forward, but not rude. She was sure of her words, but if they were disproved, she would like to know why and she would learn from that mistake.

The team noticed all that and they gladly let her take over, in a way. They had never had such an Intern who would feel so comfortable and so involved in their very first investigation. It was nice to have Angela around now, with all of her quirks, her bubbliness and her seemingly never ending energy, not to mention – that deep desire to learn, to improve, to be just like them, to fit in, to be one of them.

"We are looking for someone who recently did something to trigger the UnSub. This fantasy of hers might have been going on for years, but whatever the guy did, pushed her over the edge – it broke her fake little world and it set her off." Angie kept on ranting.

"Where is she!?" She asked, now hysterically flipping through the numerous victims' photos and files.

"The first victim! It's always about the first victim! The rest of them are just collateral. It's always about that _first_ kill!" She spoke, as if she was reading those words.

"Deviance…" Rossi smirked, mentioning the name of yet another one of his best sellers.

"Chapter three, second part – Victimology and the importance of the first victim!" Angie stated without even glancing at him. She was still busy trying to figure out where the papers she needed were.

"Yes! Her!" She showed everyone the photo of the first victim and she grinned. "This is our connection to the police officer. It's not the UnSub, or the crime scene. It's this – her, the first victim!"

In her hand there was a photo of a woman who fit the initial profile down to the last detail. At first they thought it had been the way the UnSub would look, but it was really the first victim, instead.

"Guys, she's absolutely right…" Reid spoke up and then poured out some theory that everyone agreed with.

As soon as they called Garcia with this new and improved profile, she was able to narrow it down to two men – one who had just gotten engaged and one who had just married his high-school sweetheart – both women fit the description of all the victims.

"Oh-ooh…" Garcia said mysteriously as she discovered some more information on those women.

"Check this out – Officer Gary's bride went missing just days after the wedding. She was later found stabbed to death, in the hotel room where their honeymoon was." Garcia informed them. "Check your tablets…"

"Holy crap!" Emily murmured, opening a photo of their first known victim's crime scene – a photo they had examined previously, without knowing the connection and the importance of this woman.

"So, the UnSub was triggered by this guy – Officer Gary, who just got married to the girl he had always loved? And so she went on and killed her, but this was not enough, because she realized she still can't be with him, so she kept on killing women who look identical to his wife?" JJ narrated.

"Exactly! It wasn't the policeman who was cheating with all these similar women. It was the UnSub who kept on killing his wife, over and over again, punishing her for taking him away from her." Rossi pointed out.

"Yes, just like in your book! The exclusion from the rules – family incest! So, the UnSub must be somehow related to Gary." Angie couldn't help but say it once again – Rossi's book was why she had been able to even suspect this whole thing.

"Uh, guys?" Garcia sounded preoccupied. "There's a sealed something old and dusty, on Officer Gary…from when he was a teenager."

"Are you waiting for a formal invitation to unseal it?" Emily said grumpily.

Sometimes, during complicated cases, Emily tended to come off a bit feisty and possibly borderline rude. Everyone loved her for it, as long as they were not on the receiving end of her wrath.

No, in fact Garcia was unsealing those records as she spoke.

"Okay, so Officer Gary filed a sexual harassment complaint when he was sixteen. It got overlooked, as he was a bit of a troublemaker at the time and his parents thought it was just the product of his imagination. Apparently, his eighteen year old cousin Sammi had been making advances on him, ever since their families started living under the same roof. A few months after that complaint go overruled and sealed, as he was still a minor, Sammi had a little run in with Liah – Gary's high school girlfriend…" Garcia kept on reading her findings to the team.

"The woman he married – Sammi's trigger!" Angie couldn't help but point out the obvious.

In a way it made her feel good to say it out loud, although she quickly realized it had been a nerdy move on her side, as everyone else had already thought the same thing and needed no further confirmation of it.

"Liah was also a minor at the time of this…let's just call it 'fist fight', rather than 'cat fight', okay? There are juicy details here…Liah is quite a puncher…" Garcia chuckled. "…My point is, this got sealed, as well. Nobody was held responsible and it was all kept hush-hush. Also, Gary's childhood dream was to be a policeman and he acted on it right after high school, joining the Police Academy as soon as he possibly could."

"That must have prompted Sammi to join the Academy, too. In her mind maybe she thought that if she proved worthy of him – worthy of living his life, doing his job, too…then maybe he would change his mind. But once he got married, she knew there was no turning back and she took her revenge on him, through Liah." JJ spoke.

"But that could not have been enough…" Angie took the word from JJ and she continued. "She kept on finding women that resemble her, she wanted to re-live the high of the first kill, which by the way, as _The_ David Rossi says in one of his books…"

Rossi interrupted Angela as he laughed lightly. She had no idea she had trailed off, calling him _The_ David Rossi, as she usually called him when he was not around. She was not used to being in his presence, so those words of pure worship just rolled off her tongue before she would notice how geeky they would make her look.

He appreciated it.

"Anyway, go read his fifth book, chapter eight – re-living the high of the first kill." She added nerdily, just in case anyone had been interested to hear her finish off that sentence.

"Free publicity? I like you!" Rossi smirked, feeling somewhat proud, for an odd reason.

Angela was definitely tickling his ego with all these compliments and he could tell they were genuine by the way they naturally came out in conversations.

* * *

"Well, that was satisfying!" Angie said with her head held high, late that same night.

Hours had gone by since the meeting that had cracked the case. Having names and addresses, they had been able to make an arrest, but since they hadn't found Sammi red-handed, they had been forced to take her in for questioning first. Emily could not deny Angela the pleasure of conducting one more interrogation, even if an Academy Trainee was not exactly fluent enough in such techniques. Angela deserved the shot and Emily believed in her, enough to have her in the interrogation room.

Before walking in, they quickly said a few words to each other, strategizing. Emily had given Angela lots of leeway when it came to the questions she could ask and the details she could give Sammi. The rest of the team had waited in the adjacent room, checking on the interview progress through the glass wall and listening in. JJ was more than surprised to find out how eloquent and how sneaky Angela was with her words, twisting Sammi's denial in ways that inevitably led her to telling the entire truth and giving them a full confession.

The final profile had been the right one and what had been missing up until the interrogation was _why_ this random man had come forward with a fake confession, just a day ago. Apparently, he was madly in love with Sammi and he had learned about one of the victims, after which Sammi had told him about the others. Blinded by his feelings for her, he had proposed to take the blame and do the time in jail, so that he could be with Sammi when he got out. He had always known that Sammi's heart was not set on him and he was just a toy for her to play with, so by covering up her crimes, he thought it was a nice enough gesture to make her fall in love with him. It had been the same tactic Sammi had used with her cousin Gary – she had tried out the Police Academy, thinking maybe then he would see her as more than just a cousin.

"Thank you for believing in me." Angela added, walking out of the interrogation room, leaving the local policemen take Sammi into custody.

"Always!" Emily winked at her and could not help but mess her hair a little bit.

Angela hated it when people touched her hair, but with Emily she just giggled and it was so effortless. She sounded like a happy child, with her high-pitch giggle – one that she simply could not suppress.

Instinctively, she leaned into Emily's frame as they walked down the hallway together, with Emily's hand sliding to hold her losely. The rest of the team was just exiting the adjacent room and Reid called out for Angela, wanting to tell her how impressed he was with her interrogation techniques and knowledge of persuasion ones, too. Ultimately, it had been Emily who had broken Sammi, but Angela's constant nagging during the interrogation had helped tremendously, too.

Rossi had noticed how, a few times through the whole hour of interrogation, Angela had used tips that she must have found in his books. It was too much to be all a coincidence, if it wasn't _his_ words that she was going by. He had also seen her moment of silence where it was noticeable, probably only to him as a profiler, that she was ill-at-ease. It had been at the very beginning of the interrogation when Emily was going hard at Sammi and Angela had not yet found her own voice. What made the biggest impression on him, however, was the fact that Emily and Angela had a non-spoken understanding…an accordance, a certain type of harmony in the way they spoke to the UnSub. It almost felt rehearsed and it was not the first time he felt this way, watching them interact in different situations.

"Now that our job is done, how about we celebrate the BAU way?" Rossi suggested, hurrying up to offer the dinner before Emily would do so.

"Cocktails and dancing!?" Angie's eyes lit up, just at the thought of that.

"Pff, you think we're fancy or something?" Tara laughed, walking by her on the way to go grab her stuff.

"He meant pizza and beer." Matt brushed by Angela as well, eager to gather his belongings and to get the Hell out of the boiling hot Precinct.

"Oh, I love pizza!" She licked her lips, omitting the additional fact that she despised beer.

With their job done, they all headed out and found themselves a cozy little restaurant to spend the next two hours at. They had put Garcia on the line for a few minutes, raising a virtual toast with her, for the job well done. Emily also asked Garcia to go on and make plans for the trip back home on the next day, after lunch, as she knew there was still some paper work to be finalized before the FBI team could leave and she wanted to have enough time to do that. Emily hated looking like she was rushing through her job. If a policeman would ask her something, she'd want to have enough time to sit down and talk to them, rather than having to rush it all because of an upcoming flight. Plus, they had nothing else to do back at Quantico, so half a day more in New York could actually turn out to be fun and everyone can do little leisure things that would make them feel good. They had deserved it.

"I can't believe this is your first time doing all of this…" Matt pointed out, looking at Angela when the conversation took turn and started to concentrate on _her_, again.

"Yeah, it's like you've done it for years. You were so calm and collected." Tara commented, too.

"I owe you an apology – I thought you'd crumble on the crime scene. Oh, was I wrong!" JJ chuckled, feeling a lot better now.

Emily had been right – JJ did need to detach her mind, but from her home life, not from her job. Being focused on the case helped JJ relax a little and not overthink every little thing she had argued with Will about recently.

"It's okay. It's a common misconception people have about me." Angie smiled politely, replying to JJ's words.

If only they knew how easily she could fool someone to believe she was an airhead, with those beautiful eyes and that wide smile of hers. And then, if only they knew just how smart and capable she really was, underneath the coat of pretense.

"You really _do_ think like a profiler." Reid added. "I think I like you even more now. In fact, I'm almost certain I like you about two and a half times more now, compared to when I first met you. You are welcome."

Angie laughed lightly at the way he spoke. He always found a way to be funny, without even trying to do so. And he was so insanely smart that he often left her wondering – does she like and respect him for being so smart or is she beyond jealous of his brains?

"You _are_ a profiler." Rossi commented briefly before struggling to use a knife that was not suitable for cutting a pizza. He then mumbled some insult in Italian, cursing the restaurant owners for their bad choice of cutlery.

"What I am is _lucky_! You guys are awesome and I never thought I'd learn from eight people, just by following one person, for a week. I don't think any other Trainee has ever been given such an opportunity!" Angie said proudly.

"You are welcome." Luke teased her, using the same words that Reid had just used when he had made her laugh.

This time, however, Angie folded her arms and looked at Luke scoldingly.

"You are way more full of yourself than I originally imagined." She teased him right back.

"This learning opportunity is all thanks to Ma'am Prentiss." Angie added, pointing at Emily, as if she was showcasing her to the team, thus making her blush profoundly.

"Stop it…" Emily murmured, feeling uncomfortable.

"Sir Prentiss?" Angie corrected herself, since Emily kept on hating being referred to as 'Madam'.

"Angela!" Emily hissed underneath her breath.

"Yes, Sir! Your Highness, Lord Prentiss!" Angie kept on dramatizing, now making everyone laugh uncontrollably.

It wasn't an everyday thing that someone would take the complete piss out of Emily Prentiss – the Unit Chief. And it almost never happened that someone would survive such a direct and vile attack to her ego. But somehow, with Angela, Emily didn't seem to be offended at all. In fact, she was visibly suppressing her own laughter.

"The Queen of…" Angie trailed off, searching for the right words, but everyone else had something to suggest to that teasing game.

"Lies!" Tara was the first one to shoot a possible ending to Angie's words.

"Fake deaths…" Reid said, a bit less cheerful as he spoke.

He was still holding a grudge against Emily, for the Doyle drama she had put the entire team through, namely the way she had just come back from the dead, seven months after they had started to mourn her death.

"Biting her nails!" JJ chuckled, dodging a scrunched napkin that Emily instantly threw her way.

"Is anyone going to say _anything_ nice about me? Or should I just fire all of you?" Emily played the Boss card jokingly.

"Actually, I have a lot of good things to say about Emily Prentiss…" Angie shrugged.

Had she not been interrupted, she would have maybe said some of those things out loud. But right now, it was obvious she didn't want to elaborate on that. And it was okay, because as long as Emily knew there was good to be said about her by Angela, she was fine.

"I'll just say that she's a total bad ass!" Angie smirked, only giving her half a compliment.

Rossi caught on the way Angela switched between 'you' and 'her', when referring to Emily. It almost felt like she was talking about two completely different people. Then again, he could just be overanalyzing the words of a young girl. Who was he to judge the way youngsters talk these days? Maybe this was a new type of a joke? Emily surely didn't mind hearing those words and it didn't seem to him like she had even noticed the two different ways Angie referred to her, so why make a big deal out of it?

The evening ended calmly and the team was on their way back to the hotel when Angela mentioned shots. It took them three seconds and a half to find a nearby bar where they could all have a drink and listen to some music before going back to the hotel, ultimately, tired and sleepy, but most of all – proud of the job well done!

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"rmpcmfan"** I ADORE Rossi! Some of Angie's obsession and some of Emily's appreciation for him is driven by what I personally feel about Rossi's character - a mentor, an amazing man, an inspiration! Angie surely knows how to choose the important people to surround herself with and to worship! She has a very high/positive opinion of herself (NOT in a conceited way!)...however, around Emily she feels somewhat weak, small...not good enough. As for Emily and the budget...let's just say that a Prentiss woman won't stop at _**ANYTHING,**_ in order to get what she wants! Remember those words *wink*!

**"Ducksdragonfly" **Yeah, Angie has many faces (NO hinting at bipolar, though!) She shows different colors to the different people, based on the vibes she feels with them. Certain things she won't tell anyone, not even Emily whom it is obvious she worships. Wait, you mean both Em and ANGELA have been undercover in their lives? Interesting theory! Btw you are super intuitive and you always catch the psychological details...funny you should mention sociopathy - there is some mention of that in an upcoming chapter. I appreciate the fact that you clearly (obviously!) know the difference between sociopath and psychopath hehe. Many people get it wrong. As for Angie, she has some major issues going on and she is desperately trying all techniques to resolve them, but is finding it hard. She can't confide in anyone, especially not in Emily, and that weights on her. Her previous life experiences have definitely contributed to Angie's fears. She's way different than what the first chapters paint her and she knows it. She likes it this way. You will slowly learn about her insecurities before you learn the reason for those, although I'm sure YOU will figure it out first, if you haven't already. The letters from Monkey, therapy with Martha, some hidden meanings in Angie's seemingly random verbal outbursts...they all give clues to her past and problems. In fact, at some point the story will feature some chapters entirely based on flashbacks from the past and those will explain _**everything!**_

**"zhangxinna"** Chapter 99: LOL, yeah Luke's the 'fun' one, out of everyone. I needed Angela to have a 'fun' friend to hang out with that night. They could both use some unwinding right now - with Angela and her Academy training and Luke and his break up. She will have specific relationships with the different team members :) Luke's the one to go party with and to grab a drink with and not feel pressured to be perfect or anyone other than herself. Angela really appreciates having such people around. Plus, she enjoys busting someone's balls and playing around in a joking manner. PS: It's so nice to hear from you again :)! How did your exam session go? Also, the stuff I write after this sentence are ALL in reply to _**YOU**_ :)!

**"zhangxinna"** Chapter 100: OMG, why are you so cuuuuute? That was so incredibly nice of you to say! Thank you so much (can we be friends!? hehe). Yes, I started this story as short chapters, but then it kind of went BOOM and I'm now posting chapters that are 5-6-7 times longer than the initial ones (hence I don't post every day, otherwise I would go crazy LOL!). (Keep reading, everything else is in reply to YOU).

Angie & JJ...hmm, we'll see what's up with those two!

Angie makes Rossi super curious (as proven in Chapter 101), so he's definitely keeping an eye on her, and on Emily, too!

By now you already know that Angie has some sort of a fixation with the BAU and with Rossi. And you also know that it is _**absolutely impossible**_ for the BAU to welcome an intern this year. You also know that Emily is the most headstrong person, who won't back down! *wink*

Angie/Bryan are like Garcia/Morgan or Emily/Morgan or JJ/Reid...but now that they won't be together all the time (after the Academy), Angie needs another partner in crime hehe!

About the case: you already think like a profiler! Good theory, that was exactly what Angela figured out as well!

As for Emily & Richard: At this time of age, is it still the MAN who would have to be the knight in shining armor, to go whisk his Princess away? Or could it maybe be the other way around? Hehe, just saying. :P Your patience about them will very soon be rewarded :P But it won't be anything like what you're probably imagining right now, hehehe! Just wait for it. I'm really excited to share that specific chapter with everyone! Imagine something out of the box...multiply it by a thousand...turn the roles around...and you'll still be surprised (I HOPE, LOL)! Okay, I should not raise anyone's hopes too high, though, let me humble myself - just wait a tiny bit longer :P


	102. You Remind Me Of A Girl That I Once Knew

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Hey guys :)!**

**I have _severely_ underestimated the complicity of having to move my entire house, under the scorching sun and heatwaves, while working 12-hour shifts, five days a week, plus also working a second job on the weekends, right after the pandemic situation somewhat allowed companies and businesses to re-open in the country where I live.**

**However, I managed to treat you all to this looong chapter that I really enjoyed writing! ******It's one huge installment that I needed to post at once, because breaking it into pieces/chapters wouldn't make sense. Honestly, the word count is worth FOUR weeks of normal length chapters, so I hope I'm forgiven for skipping last week :P****

****Thank you ALL for being such awesome readers and I appreciate each one of you, whether you come forward and msg/review, or not. I see my stats and I know you're out there in the world and I'm happy to know you're following this little project of mine that I'm so passionate about :)!****

* * *

**CHAPTER 102**

_**YOU REMIND ME OF A GIRL THAT I ONCE KNEW**_

Angie's idea to go out for shots the night they closed the case had been a hit. Even Rossi decided to join in and have a little fun, despite being tired and needing some well-deserved rest after the case. It hadn't been the case itself to wear him out, but rather all the stalking and profiling Angela, every possible chance he had. She intrigued him and it scared him that he had no idea why he felt almost like it was his duty to figure her out.

Going back to the hotel, all tired and most of them a little tipsy too, they separated and walked to their assigned rooms. Angela did not find it weird, nor did she care that the entire numerous team had only two rooms to share. In fact, she liked it that way, as she got to spend time with the awesome BAU ladies…and JJ, too, which she still ignored whenever possible.

Emily, however, took the first opportunity she had, to do the exact opposite. She wanted to talk to JJ in private, so when she saw Tara head over to the boys' room for a quick game of tipsy poker, where she was bound to be destroyed by Matt and Luke, Emily stalked her prey. Angela was in the shower and she knew her appreciation for a good pressure, hot shower, so it was safe to say she won't be out in the next thirty minutes or so.

"Hey…" Emily muttered, catching JJ off-guard, just as she was taking her shoes off.

"Please don't yell at me again!" A tipsy JJ replied, struggling to untie her shoes.

Emily just laughed and she sat on the bed, next to her, helping her out with that horribly difficult task.

"I actually wanted to apologize about how I handled our situation…" Emily spoke while figuring out how on Earth JJ had managed to make triple nodes while trying to untie those shoelaces.

"Let's put aside the fact that I had to be tough with you, as the Unit Chief…" She elaborated. "But I'm not proud of my words and my approach. You've been nothing but nice and helpful to me lately, through something you don't even know the details of. I know how much you've done for me and I am grateful for it all, so I can't believe I told you that I don't have time for your tantrums. I'm sorry. Your emotions are valid, your troubles are not a burden to me and I never wanted to come across like this."

"Emily?" JJ put her hand on top of Emily's knee, preventing her from hyperventilating any further. "It didn't upset me. I deserved to be treated a bit harshly, I get it. It served me well. You don't need to apologize and you don't need to thank me. What you need to do is make me a damn bridesmaid!"

Emily was suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of half-drunk hiccups.

"It's never happening." She murmured in response.

At this point in life Emily was fine just thinking of her career. She had nobody to share her life with and she, sadly, had no children. It could have all been different…but it was her own fault, up to an extent. She had closed herself off to some amazing people that had come into her life and then she had left, in situations where things were going well and maybe there might have been a future for her, besides someone awesome.

"Oh my God, there will be French wine at the wedding! French cheese, too! And flowers! And cute little babies in white fluffy dresses. So damn cute. Oh my God, please hurry and get it done, like, tomorrow. Is that an okay day for you or should we postpone it for this weekend?" JJ chuckled, already imagining it all, in her head.

"You must be way more drunk than I thought. You're hallucinating!" Emily said defensively, knowing what JJ was hinting at.

"But…he sounds great I wanna know more about him. I want you to marry him. I want you to be happy. And I want to be a damned bridesmaid!"

"He did make me happy…" Emily scoffed. "And then he left. So, no wedding plans. Please, calm down."

"Also, even if it was the case – you'd never be a bridesmaid…" Emily added, trailing off to give JJ time to pout before she continued. "You'd be my maid of honor and I wouldn't have it any other way!"

"He made you smile!" JJ squealed, in reply about the guy before she heard the part of Emily's statement that concerned her. "And you just made me smile and I love you, Emily Prentiss!"

"He used to…" Emily corrected her. "And for the record – I love your drunken emotional outbursts. Thank you and I love you too, you lightweight." She added, chuckling.

"No, he _just_ did. He _just_ made you smile. Oh my God, Emily…you are _so_ whipped! Just thinking about him made you smile. Look at you…Emily, you are smiling and oh…you're blushing. Emily Prentiss, you are most definitely blushing! Oh my God, I never thought I'd live to the day _this_ happened." JJ went on a full rant and as much as Emily wanted to look pissed about it, she could not hide the fact that she actually found this entertaining. She had also exaggerated with the shots at the bar, so an Emily with lowered inhibitions was more prone to telling the truth. JJ knew that, which was why she chose _that_ moment to ask her about her mysterious French crush.

"Okay, fine. I may be smiling, but that's only because I can't help it…Ugh, that only reinforces your statement, though. I hate you." Emily stopped speaking once she realized that she was contradicting herself. Was she or wasn't she whipped, like JJ had suggested? Why did she feel so strongly about trying to deny that statement, but then every word that came out of her mouth only served to reinforce it, instead?

"He kept calling me beautiful. He gave me a lot of compliments, actually. And he held me so tight. I felt safe. Protected. Happy..." Emily added, because…the Hell with denial. JJ was her best friend, she deserved to know the truth. Also because Emily was tipsy enough to not give a crap about how much she'd share.

"Sounds like he is a wonderful man." JJ pointed out.

"He is. He really is…" That dreamy note in Emily's voice made JJ smile again.

She loved this new version of her tough friend – the one who was always anti-romance, the same one who was now blushing, speaking about a man she had just met.

"Maybe even the right man for you..." JJ dared to add.

"Mhh." Emily growled, unsure if she could properly put what she felt about JJ's last statement, into words.

"I bet the BAU fam is going to love him. God, they'd bombard the poor guy with questions when they meet him, but they'd accept him right away. Any man the Boss loves is a man that must be respected."

"I never said I loved him!" Emily interrupted her immediately.

"Come on. I'm a profiler!" JJ smirked.

When would Emily learn that JJ could read her, no matter how much Emily hated it?

JJ also profiled Emily's following non-verbal signs - acting self-conscious and confused about her feelings.

"Well, we don't need to think about that introduction. I'm never going to see him again, thus you guys are never going to meet him." Emily said, a bit more grumpily this time, as if she disliked what her own statement suggested.

"Emily...you have his number!"

"No, I don't." Emily replied stubbornly, right away.

"Yes, you do."

"I threw that letter away. No, wait…I burned it!" At this point Emily folded her hands, giving JJ the most visibly obvious and clear clue that she was feeling uncomfortable. Also – that she was lying.

"Mhm. Or did you move it some place a bit closer to your heart at night? Say, the nightstand, maybe?" JJ teased, now kicking off her right shoe, only now realizing that it had been a while since Emily had untied it and she was desperate to feel air against her feet. JJ hated her new work shoes, they hadn't been properly broken in yet and they gave her the sensation that her feet were being held hostage at all times.

"God, I hate how good you are at profiling!" Emily murmured.

How could JJ have possibly figured _that_ out?

"You did!?" JJ smirked victoriously.

She had bluffed earlier, but Emily's reply had confirmed her suspicions.

"So what if I did?"

"It means you are not ready to let go of this wonderful person. And, from what I've heard, I can't blame you." JJ said a bit more softly now.

Those words made Emily reflect for a second. JJ was a very wise woman and Emily valued her opinions and her advice. What if she was right? Emily knew that the hardest person to ever profile is oneself, but could it possibly be that JJ knew her well enough to figure her out, even if Emily was not able to figure herself out at that moment?

"And just in case you ever flip out and actually end up throwing it away or burning it, be aware that I wrote it all down…and just to be sure, I memorized it, too!" JJ said proudly.

"...the number, not the whole letter." She added before Emily would find it super awkward that her best friend had memorized a love letter with which a guy she liked had ended up dumping her, instead.

"Oh God, JJ…I need a freaking drink!" Emily rolled her eyes, standing up from the bed and walking towards the mini fridge, hoping she'd find something a little more hardcore than the pack of M&Ms and cashew nuts that she found, to accompany the two bottles of light prosecco and the non-alcoholic beer that was still warm from when the staff had placed it in, just earlier.

* * *

Early the next morning Tara had plans with Rossi to go for a walk, so she had left the girls' room before dawn. JJ was known to sleep in, as much as she could and whenever possible, so Emily found herself sitting up in bed, next to a very calmly asleep young Angela.

She looked at her for a long moment, seeing her breathe in sharply and then breathe out evenly. Her hair was tickling her nose, which disturbed her sleep, so Emily reached a hand out, to move it away, to give Angela the chance to relax properly.

And then time kind of froze. To Emily it felt like it was just a second ago that she had removed that strand of hair from Angie's face and her hand was still resting against the girl's forehead, moving her thumb up and down a little, as if she was dealing with a baby that needed to be calmed down before their nap.

It was only when Emily felt JJ's hand on her back, that she realized it had most certainly not been just a moment and that she was most certainly now crying.

"Emily, why are you crying?" JJ whispered.

She had woken up about fifteen minutes ago, but she couldn't force herself to interrupt that sweet moment that Emily was having with Angela, until she saw Emily cry. It was then that JJ decided to get up and to speak up. There was something that Emily needed to hear, something that would hurt.

"…Because you could have had a daughter about her age now...?" JJ added a possible reply that she thought would fit with what Emily was thinking and feeling at that moment. It was a reply that she knew Emily was terrified of giving her, herself, so JJ ripped the band aid instead, like a true best friend would do.

"Yeah. I could have..." Without any hesitation, Emily replied, leaving JJ speechless.

She hadn't expected a reaction from Emily – the master of denial. If anything, she might have winced and turned her head sideways, as she always did, and then she would have either found a way to change the topic or a way to get the Hell out of that room and out of JJ's sight.

And instead – she had replied, with the truth. Or at least, _some_ of it.

"Emily, you should really think twice before shooting this guy down. And before you kill me…" JJ spoke fast, noticing the rage budding up on Emily's face already. "…I want to add that I'll never be done with my desire to be an auntie to your kids!"

Emily went silent. One hand went up to her own cheek, brushing off the tears, while the other hand remained on Angie's forehead, with the index finger softly pressing against it.

"I can see it…" JJ whispered, witnessing the sweet way Emily was constantly treating Angela.

"See what?" Emily decided that she was too spaced out to understand JJ's words, without further explanation.

"You…kids…" JJ whispered.

"Yeah…?" Emily licked her lips, not even aware of the fact that a soft smile appeared on her face – a kind of loving, caring, hopeful smile that JJ had never seen before.

It all reminded her of this one time, years ago, on the BAU jet, when they had had the same conversation. Emily was now having the same curious reaction that she had once had. JJ had known it for as long as she had known Emily for – that woman wanted a family. She wanted a husband and a happy life, but above all – she wanted a child. Emily Prentiss was mother material, no matter how hard she always tried to deny it, to laugh it off, to change topic or to get pissed off at anyone who would dare mention it.

Children were a touchy topic for Emily – they made her happy when she was around them, but they made her extremely sad when they were nowhere near her. She had tried to somewhat fill that void in by being the BAU 'mom', but it had never given her the real satisfaction that having her own child would. It simply was not the same. And to Emily having a child went beyond giving birth. She didn't care about DNA. She could love a child – _any_ child in the world; whether it came out of her womb or not. Her desire was not connected to the 'giving birth' side of motherhood. She just wanted to have someone to shower with her eternal love. It was as simple as that. And it was as complicated as that.

"Have you even given kids a thought?" JJ misread Emily's silence. She decided it was a green light to go further into details, but she was in for a rude awakening.

Emily had the amazing ability to go from a zero to a thousand, when it came to changing her mood. She seemed calm and collected until now, but it only took this additional question, to make her snap.

Looking down at Angela, still sleeping peacefully, now sort of curled up and with her face slightly tilted sideways, as if she was following Emily's movements and facing her, in her sleep, Emily started a downpour that JJ was most definitely not expecting and certainly not prepared to handle.

"I've always wanted to have a daughter. Strong. Opinionated. Smart. Loving. And so much more. I kind of picture her as my best competitor and my amazing companion in life. She would always have what she needs, but she wouldn't be a spoiled brat. She would respect people. She would be curious about life. She would be smart about her choices, because, unlike me, she would grow up with a mother who loves her deeply and unconditionally and who would walk through every step of her life, holding her hand, always being by her side. I'd name her something strong, something powerful, so she could intimidate people just by announcing her presence. I'd sneak into her room and watch her sleep at night, I'd listen to her take tiny uneven breaths and watch her sweat a little in her fluffy pajama. I'd push strands of hair off her face, so they wouldn't tickle her nose as she slept, because I wouldn't want anything to ever disrupt her naps, no matter how old she was. I'd wake up and stare at my own reflection in the bathroom mirror, with a smile on my face and I'd thank God and all Heavenly creatures for blessing me with her, every single morning. I'd pretend like one waffle was breakfast enough for me, so she could have the last two. I'd let her steal my clothes and wear my favorite shoes off and I'd be nothing but proud of her, for wanting to be in my life and to use the things I like. I'd watch her grow and keep a part of her childhood with her, no matter how old she gets. I'd hold her close when she's upset and I'd laugh with her when she is happy. I'd build a relationship with her, where she'd feel comfortable telling me anything and I'd never have to worry about her getting in trouble, because my daughter would have a great head on her shoulders. She'd make people laugh, she'd fight for her rights and she'd be overall the most amazing person in my life. Her laughter would be just as contagious as yours, if not more, and she'd smile, even through her pain."

Halfway through the opening line of Emily's revelation, JJ was covered in her own tears.

Never in a million years had she thought she'd one day hear Emily admit to such an intimate thing, in such an open and honest way. Looking at her face, JJ could see pain in it, regret, denial. Emily was only human and she was bound to crush under the pressure of having to hold back her desires, to deny what she really wanted in life, to act tough and appropriate all the time. The Hell with it all! Emily Prentiss was entitled to a moment of complete emotional breakdown and it was happening then and there, with her one hand brushing against Angie's forehead subconsciously, and the other hand now being squeezed by JJ tightly, as they both shed a few tears, for their own different reasons.

Through it all, Angela slept like a baby. She moved just an inch closer to Emily, but other than that she was immobile.

Just when JJ thought this was it, Emily added more.

"But most of all - I'd be damned if I ever hurt my daughter. I'd hate myself, blame myself, I'd never forgive myself! With time, my pain would only grow bigger and my hatred towards myself would start to consume me. I'd try everything in my power, to let her know I've wronged her, for all the right reasons. And then I'd cry myself to sleep, countless nights in a row. I'd pretend like I was okay, I'd have a life of my own, but I'd never forget her, not even for a second. I'd think of her constantly and I'd dream up a world in which I would have never had to leave her. A world, where she would still be my precious little gem and I'd get to hold her in my arms, whenever I wanted. A world where she would call me 'mommy' and I'd pretend to not have heard, so I could hear her say it one more time again. A world I'd immerge myself completely into and I'd let it consume me, let it ruin me, let it make me hate myself all this much more…"

Emily stopped, only to take a breath. And then she realized that all the words in the world would never be enough to fully express what she felt, so she just decided to go back to being an ass with a bad mood, instead.

"So, to answer your question once and for all, dear JJ - yes, you see, I have given kids quite some thought. Now, can you, please, drop it?" Emily spat out, looking at JJ with a fierceness that JJ had never seen before.

She almost looked like those lionesses that Henry had been watching a documentary on, just days ago – beautiful, gracious, calm even, but only until their precious little cubs would be attacked. Then the lioness would turn psycho and she'd rip up anyone and anything that came between her and her little ones. She'd shred them into pieces and she'd chew their bones dry. Because that what was a true lioness would do for her cubs. That was exactly what Emily reminded JJ of, at that very moment.

JJ could only nod in reply to that. She was way too emotional to speak and way too scared to even _want_ to do so.

This conversation had hit her harder than she expected. Clearly, having Angela around, as someone young and very attached to Emily from the start, was messing with Emily's emotions, to the point where things she never thought she would ever admit, ended up coming out of her mouth, accompanied by salty tears.

Emily Prentiss had never been a crybaby. And yet, as of recently, too many emotions were brewing inside of her and the first natural response her body had to all of that was to produce tears. As lame as she might have looked and as powerless as crying may have made her feel, those tears actually served a purpose. They made her stronger. They made her able to open up and speak about her feelings. They made her human. And 'human' was everything that an ex-undercover law enforcement officer could ever hope to one day become again.

JJ needed air, so she stood up and walked to the terrace without saying another word. Emily didn't need advice and she certainly didn't need anyone's pity. All she needed was to finally admit certain things and to be heard.

The team met up for breakfast soon after that and Angela joined them a little later, having slept in a bit longer. Emily acted calm and collected and it pained JJ to see just how good Emily was at hiding her true emotions. Just minutes ago she had poured her heart out to JJ and there she was now – discussing the softness and the different flavor fillings of the pastry they had all ordered for breakfast. No doubt Emily Prentiss had been amazing in her undercover days, but it also inevitably put a stain on her emotional capacity to connect to people, to let people in, to be herself and to trust someone.

That morning, after breakfast, since all the case-related stuff was closed, the team found themselves with a whole day to spare in New York. They had put the UnSub Sammi in custody the previous evening and then spent the night in their hotel, as Emily had to do some paperwork at the local station before they could leave. Garcia had been told to arrange the flight sometime after lunch, so she had managed to make the jet fly out that evening, giving everyone some well-deserved fun time, to go around New York City and to do whatever they wished before their flight later that night. It had been a rough few days and everyone was happy to have the chance to do whatever they wanted.

Matt and Luke went to the movies to see the premiere of some action movie that nobody else cared about, while JJ and Tara decided to do a little shopping. Rossi and Reid went to Central Park, with a book in hand.

"What are _we_ doing, Emily Prentiss?" Angie asked curiously, wanting to handcuff herself to that woman, so she wouldn't miss out on a second, with her.

"Anything that does not belong to our ordinary world." Emily announced, keeping in mind a promise she had made the girl when the week had started.

Angela was excited. A lot of normal people things didn't belong to her reality, so it wouldn't be too hard to come up with stuff.

"What's first?" She kept on asking, once again sounding like an eager five year old. She could not help it.

"Whatever we want." Emily grabbed her bag and triple-checked if everything was left perfect back in the Precinct.

They walked out and took their time to enjoy the streets of the City. The weather was quite nice, except for the wind that occasionally blew their hair in their faces, but it was warm and there was something that resembled a sunshine, in the sky, which for New York was quite an achievement this time of the year.

"Before we end up having a discussion I do not want to partake in, I should let you know that everything we do, is on me." Emily informed her, knowing perfectly well what Angela would do as soon as she saw Emily reach for the wallet.

"No, that's not necessary. There are plenty of things we can do that do not involve spending money. We could go sightseeing…and maybe sit somewhere and uh…"

"And talk?" Emily challenged.

Angela did not seem like the kind of person who enjoyed long walks and long talks. She was the most reserved person Emily had ever met and she knew she had to tread lightly with this girl. For so many reasons.

"Yeah, on second thought, that would really suck." Angela laughed, confirming what Emily already knew.

"Oh, Pinkberry!" She pointed enthusiastically as they walked by one of their shops.

"Pinkberry it is then!" Emily crossed the street and directed herself to where Angela had showed a wish to go.

"Oh, that is so cool!" Angie was in awe as she walked in.

To so many girls her age, Pinkberry was a given. They'd hang out there after school and chat about boys. But this was not her reality.

"Never been here?" Emily questioned.

"Nope. First time ever." Angie hurried to find a table.

It wasn't busy, yet she took her time, choosing strategically.

She eyed the big tables in the middle of the venue and discarded them right away. Then she eyed the tables near the windows and she winced.

"I never understood people who chose window seats. Like, do you _have_ to put yourself in danger, even at a restaurant?" Angie rolled her eyes, speaking more to herself, than to Emily.

"I don't think anyone normal ever considers drive-by shootings or opportunistic bombings when they are out, dining." Emily pointed out.

"They should!" With that statement, Angie hurried to an angle table, in the far end of the hall.

It was the smallest table, again, with only two chairs. It reminded Emily of the one Angela had chosen on Monday morning, at the French pastry place. This girl definitely had a type.

"In case of fire or an armed robbery, this would be the perfect spot to die first, you know?" Emily chuckled, wanting to push Angie's buttons.

"Far from the exit, both the general one and the emergency exit, too. No windows for us to break and find escape, either. And no place to duck and hide." Emily pointed out wittily, wanting to shake Angela up a little bit, just to see her reaction.

"Well, then thank God we are two bad ass FBI Agents who know how to take care of themselves, and others, in such situations." Angie smirked and did not seem too stressed.

_"Please, follow me forever and everywhere!"_ Emily thought to herself, while just smiling on the outside.

She was only starting to figure out the girl behind the name of Angela Hunter and she was already feeling some type of way.

Happy, somehow.

More free spirited, in a way.

Spontaneous, finally.

Attached. Definitely.

"How do you do it?" Emily asked vaguely.

"How do you find the strength to smile, to joke, to be so positive?" She elaborated since Angela did not understand the question at first.

"It's not easy…" Angie sighed. God knows she had skeletons in her closet. "But I try to surround myself with amazing, positive people, whom I draw energy from and that's what keeps me going."

"What about Emily Prentiss? Is she an amazing, positive person?" Emily asked.

She had never really referred to her own self in third person, but the situation was calling for it.

"I'm still trying to figure it out." Angie's honesty was refreshing and Emily appreciated that.

"Remember how we said we'd learn to judge people, this week?" Emily smiled.

Angie nodded. Screw learning about serial killers, she had read enough books on that topic. All she needed was to learn about humanity, on the job.

"Well, I think I'm still figuring Angela Hunter out…" Emily smiled and saw how Angie diverted her attention to the menu, instead. She was avoiding eye contact and to Emily that screamed insecurity.

"So far I think she might be a good person. You know, one of those rare people you meet, but you instantly know you want to have in your life. Forever." Emily pushed it and she did not care how distracted Angela tried to appear. The girl needed to hear those words.

"Mhm…" Angie muttered.

"Mhm is _my_ reply to things I don't want to hear, my dear. Find yourself a new line." Emily laughed.

It was true – she always replied with a muffled 'Mhm' when she just wanted the other person to shut up and mind their own business.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm just-…"

"Not used to people, showing affection to you? Unsure how to process that? Afraid they might leave?" Emily cut her off and continued her thoughts, instead. Angela was surely not going to put it in _those_ words. Or in _any_ words at all. She'd lie. That was for sure.

However, hearing the harsh truth and figuring out she was already busted, she could do nothing more but to shrug.

"You have to learn how to let people in…" Emily said, her voice oozing sadness.

"I'm perfectly able to do that. I cannot, however, teach them how to stay." Angie said weakly.

"Well then you need to learn how to let people back in your life. Because, trust me, a lot of amazing people are forced to do bad things to the ones they love. And they do deserve a second chance. Or a third one…" Emily sighed, counting the times she had left the people _she_ loved.

"I agree. They _do_ deserve another chance. I just don't want to go through the pain of losing them a second time. Or a third time." Angie gulped and Emily could tell she was very emotional. "Call me selfish, I dunno…" She added.

"You are not selfish. You might be the most selfless person I know, Angela Hunter."

"You don't even know me." She countered.

"True. But I do appreciate having the chance, this week, to get to know Angela Hunter."

Ultimately, whatever the topic was, it came to one thing – Emily stating how grateful she was, to have Angela around.

The salesgirl interrupted them, inviting them to place their order. This time Angie did not hold back. She got the yummy thing of her choice and it felt a little less weird to have someone else pay for her, now that this someone else was Emily Prentiss.

"How are you, financially?" Emily asked casually, as soon as the waitress left.

"Mhm, good."

"Mhm? Really?" Emily laughed. Angela really needed to stop trying to fool her with her own phrase.

"I think Emily Prentiss might be one of the good ones, too." Angie suddenly admitted, changing the topic back to what it had been, just minutes ago. She would rather talk about that, then about her financial situation.

She had been studying every little thing about Emily – her body language, her smiles, her frowns, her emotion shifts, her moods, the things that made her smile, the things that upset her, the foods she liked, the coffee she drank, how much water she drank during the day, which Angie thought was not nearly enough hydration. Everything. She'd been studying every damn thing about this woman, in every occasion she had. And, so far, Emily Prentiss seemed awesome. Genuine. Loving. Caring. Real.

"Thank you. It means a lot to me that you'd say that." Emily said.

The girl behind the counter handed them what they had ordered and Angie's jaw dropped. That thing was definitely bigger than what she had expected it to be.

"Want a photo with it?" Emily suggested, offering herself as the photographer.

Was that not what youngsters did? She had noticed so many young people snapping photos of their food before they'd even touch it.

"Nope. I don't even have a phone, so…" Angie shrugged and grabbed the spoon.

"Yeah, about that…" Emily sighed and commanded herself not to think of all the calories she was about to intake as she tasted her own sweet dessert.

"How come you don't have a phone? I wanted to give you one for the case. It's been weird only calling JJ when I needed to contact both of you."

"I don't think that shall be necessary. I'm always around JJ…" Angie could not help that tiny eye roll.

"Ohhh, someone doesn't like JJ…" Emily chuckled, teasingly.

"Pfff. Who _doesn't_ like JJ?" Angie said in the only moment when her mouth was not full.

"Uh. You. Duh!" Emily pointed at her.

"It's not that I don't like her. I actually do. I just have absolutely nothing in common with her. So I'd rather keep my distance. I should tell her that, before she considers me to be rude."

"Wait, woah, hold on! Tell her _what_ exactly? That you fully intend on ignoring her entire existence? I'd advise you against such wrongdoing."

"But she needs to know it's not personal and it's not _her_ fault."

"You can't always be cordial to people and let them know exactly what your intentions are. Don't feel connected to JJ? Then let her be. Ignore her. She'll get the memo and she'll give you some space."

"For the record, I have nothing against JJ." Angie sighed and decided to take Emily's advice, knowing very well that as soon as Emily saw JJ, she'd tell her to back off anyway.

"So, how do you like it?" Emily pointed at the thing Angie was now halfway done eating.

"Amazing. So delicious. Yumm! We don't have this back hom-…" Angie stopped speaking and gave herself a second to revise her words.

"Uh, back where I came from." She then corrected herself.

Where she came to Quantico from, was _not_ home.

No place really felt like home anymore.

"Does Angela Hunter want to settle down and find a new home, then?" Emily asked curiously.

"I'm not sure. It would be temporary anyways. It always is."

"It shouldn't be."

"No, it shouldn't…"

If anyone was eavesdropping on any of the interactions Emily and Angela had ever had, they would not understand a thing. It sounded like they were speaking in code, leaving so many things left unsaid, but they communicated them to each other non-verbally instead.

And then there was also a certain sadness, even in the fun moments they shared.

"Which field office does Angela Hunter want to join?" Emily smirked, trying to look as innocent and genuine as she could, while asking this dumb question.

"Seriously!?" Angie raised her eyebrow. "Some profiler you are…" She then muttered to herself.

Emily heard. On the inside, she was laughing at this girl's courage to speak her mind. But she did not question it.

"You need to keep your op-…" Emily barely started speaking when Angela finished her line.

"My options opened? Yeah, Rossi already told me that." Angie sighed.

"Wait. Rossi spoke to you about it!?" Emily freaked out a little bit.

This was both good and bad.

Good, because if Rossi had already told the truth to Angela, then it wouldn't have to be _Emily_ now to break her heart.

Bad, because Emily was the authority figure and such communication had to come from her.

"Before you bite his head off, I should elaborate that he did not say anything specific, other than this one line. He said I should find my perfect fit or whatever." Angie shrugged. She had zoned out during that part of his speech earlier.

"And you think you already have?" Emily pushed it a bit more.

"I _know_ I already have." Angela stated confidently.

It pained Emily to have to tell her that her wish would not only _not_ be granted, buy blatantly disregarded altogether. She wouldn't even be able to _apply_ for the BAU internship, because it was not on the list.

So, she decided not to say anything at all. Which, as she'd find out sooner or later, would turn out to be a not-so-perfect choice.

"Hey, what about the person you've been trying to figure out. Do you have any progress already?" Angie changed the topic in the most obvious way.

Emily had to think for a second, to remember how much she had already shared about Richard. And it was none. She had only vaguely said that she was trying to figure people out, but she hadn't mentioned names, or even the gender of the specific person she had in mind.

"Mhh, nope. Not really. I mean, I guess someone told me they were a great person, but I'm not sure how I feel about…it…" Emily shrugged and it was _her_ turn now to look like the confused child in the conversation.

"But you said he treated you well…?"

"I said that. But I never said it was a _he_." Emily would not fall for a basic trick question, not after all these years of her interrogation tactics being perfected.

"I ain't judging if it was a _she_…" Angie smirked. If she didn't succeed the first time, he'd just keep on going until Emily would admit it. And she knew she would.

"Ugh. Fine. It's a _he_." Emily rolled her eyes - a one and a half roll, followed by a dramatic sigh, just like Angela had done earlier.

"Oh, _tell me more, tell me more…was it love at first sight_?" Angie sung the theme song to one of her favorite Musicals – Grease.

She had now forgotten all about her food and was leaning against the table, with her elbows on the edge of it and her fists under her chin, like a curious kid.

"You like Grease…" Emily's words sounded more like an affirmation, like a mantra, rather than a question.

"Yup. I'm also jealous of those cute pink bathrobes you and the girls have." She said honestly.

Emily made a mental note to herself to do something, as soon as she got back to Quantico.

"What else does Angela Hunter like? Tell me about her." Emily asked in such a soft voice that Angie could simply not deny her.

"She likes weird, random things. She reads a lot, about topics she does not even understand. But she likes to challenge herself. She likes pizza and lasagna, but dislikes Italy…"

"Oh, Italy. Phew, don't get _me_ started…" Emily trailed off and shook her head, shaking the image of Ian Doyle away. "It was the second time my life got ruined by a man. And the first time I lost something incredibly dear to my heart. Not to mention – the first time I died…"

She did not go into details. It was not something she ever spoke about.

Angie bit her bottom lip hard and then continued before Emily would have a breakdown.

"She is really bad at rollerblading. You know, those ones on four wheels. Not really Angela's forte. But she likes figure skating. She's somewhat okay at it, in the sense that she would not fall flat on her butt after a few meters of skating. But she doesn't enjoy ice, snow and cold temperatures, unless she's inside, with a cup of hot chocolate in hand and a good book, in the other."

Angie spoke in third person, as if she was talking about someone else. Emily had noticed her do so many times now and so had Rossi.

Emily just smiled as she listened to everything intently, occasionally taking a spoonful of her frozen yogurt.

"She likes long walks on the beach, but not like the other girls. She prefers to be alone. She likes to hear the waves crashing against the sand and she likes to walk on the verge of the water. She could walk kilometers like that. She also dislikes romance, even though her favorite movie is a romantic comedy. She'd never admit that, to anyone, though." Angie chuckled.

"Doesn't she want to have a boyfriend, maybe?" Emily asked.

"Mhh, not really. Not right now, anyway. She has a lot on her plate at this moment. I guess she has to figure herself out first, before she lets anyone else in, and I don't mean just a boyfriend, but also as friends."

"That's a very healthy thing to do – knowing who you are first." Emily pointed out.

"I've been told it's the grown-up thing to do. I'm simply following orders." Angie referred to the words of her therapist and she remembered she had her next appointment with her quite soon.

"She also likes glitter and I know it sounds stupid, but people sometimes forget that twenty-three does not mean that one has their life perfectly sorted out and one has to always be perfectly grown-up. Angela Hunter likes to keep a part of her childhood, always with her. As a reminder, I guess." Angie continued.

"I see she also measures everything the European way. Kilometers, meters…" Emily pointed out.

"Yeah, it's a habit." Angie smiled, without explaining how terribly bad she was at converting things to the American standards.

She had no idea how long twenty inches were or how distant a mile was, if she had to point it out without measuring it. Having lived in Europe for so long, a lot of American things were a foreign concept to her. Things like Pinkberry, for example.

"She likes way too many things. Now, tell me, what does Emily Prentiss like?" Angie shot the ball back to Emily's court.

She could go on and on about random things, but what she was really interested in was getting to know the woman who was sitting in front of her.

"Let's see…Well, Emily Prentiss likes her job. She likes her friends, a lot. She likes walks on the beach, too. She is not much of a fan of romance, at least I didn't think she was…" Emily was perplexed.

She had always said that romance nauseated her, but remembering a certain week, with a certain French man, she was not so sure anymore. Everything had been perfect, romantic, like in a fairy tale, like in those movies that Emily refused to ever watch. Why had she liked it so much, if all she ever stood for was the complete opposite of romance?

"Emily Prentiss also likes making dumb decisions which ruin her life, every now and then. She likes it when people give her another chance, but it also scares her…" Emily trailed off.

"Scares her? Why?"

"Well, because once she realizes she has been wrong, and the other person or people give her another chance, she gets scared that she might screw up again." Emily said honestly.

"But isn't that what life is all about?"

"Tell that to the people who refuse to give Emily Prentiss another chance!" Emily smirked, loving how that statement came out.

Perfect timing. Every now and then she said the right thing, at the right time.

"What is the most precious thing Emily Prentiss has ever lost?" Angie asked curiously.

Emily's words always pointed to a great loss, one that has been haunting her for a long time now.

"Honestly? A child…" Emily looked down and gulped.

It had been years since she spoke about that. She remembered having a vague conversation about it, with Rossi, but apart from that, those words had never escaped Emily's lips.

Angie sensed how upset Emily was and she put her hand on top of Emily's, squeezing it lightly.

"It was before I turned into the Emily Prentiss that I am now. I've been many versions of Emily Prentiss. I've also been _that_, but under different names. But you know what?" Emily gave herself a second to steady her emotions before she'd continue.

"What?" Angie was on the verge of her seat.

No, she did not know what. Yes, she wanted to know what and why and when and where and how. She wanted to know absolutely everything there was to know about this woman.

"No matter the name, I've always been _me_, the person you are seeing this week. I've changed a bit here and there, I've been through phases in my life, but I've always been _me_. I guess other people see me differently, though, because they know of my past – one full of aliases and things I've done…things I'd like to forget…" Emily licked her lips, still thinking primarily about Ian Doyle, among other things and people.

"I've changed my hair and my clothes, but underneath it all, it's always been _me _\- same heart, same soul…same person who lost the most precious thing in her life. Same pain, in the same place, haunting me just the same, every single day. Because, trust me when I say this, losing a child is the worst feeling in the world and there is no going back from that." She looked at Angie as she spoke.

It felt good to put it out there, put it into words, confide in someone, share some of that pain.

"Angela Hunter has also suffered huge loss. Not a child, but she was once someone's child. And she no longer is. So, yeah, I guess I kind of understand your pain. I'm sorry you have to go through all of this…" Angie said in a tone just above a whisper.

If she had to be honest with herself, this was the perfect moment to forget about the promise she had made to herself all those years ago and to just let hot tears roll down her cheeks. How could she not get emotional?

"It's…uh…" Emily opened her mouth, but felt an overwhelming wave of emotions hit her. Her heart was beating way too fast and she just closed her eyes and moved her head to the side, as if she was trying really hard not to start crying.

"Awwh…" Angie's heart dropped, seeing Emily like this.

While fighting her own tears, she stood up and walked to Emily's chair. Without saying a single word, she just extended her hands.

Emily stood up as well. She was desperate for proximity. Human contact. Human connection. Human touch.

The second she got close to Angela, though, she realized _she_ was the one to be holding Angela, not the other way around. Was the girl in desperate need of human contact, too?

Emily tightened her grip on her and she exhaled a huge chunk of breath that she did not realize she had been holding inside of her ever since her revelation.

It was a relief. It was so bittersweet. Angie smelled like a fruity perfume, one that Emily was very familiar with. Her hair was clean, shiny and so incredibly healthy. Emily let one hand caress Angie's head, going down to feel just how soft her hair was, before it rested on her back, gently pressing her closer. She also felt Angie's nails pressing against her skin, as if she was searching for more closure, more emotions, more of Emily Prentiss.

Angie, in turn, felt like she was suffocating. She burrowed her nose against Emily's neck and she was immobile. She felt Emily's hand move, but hers were gripping Emily's waist and they were not moving an inch, if not to make that grip a bit tighter. She felt Emily's chest move up and down as she breathed in, but it felt like Angie was not taking a single breath at all. She didn't feel her own heart beating. She only felt Emily's. And that was okay. It was beating. She was alive. It all helped Angie calm down a little – Emily was alive. Wasn't that the most important thing in life?

Angie gave in first and she whispered the beginning of a small confession to Emily, feeling like she was going to lose it and start crying any second now.

"Shh." Emily pulled away, just enough to be able to put her index finger on Angie's lips, preventing her from saying anything else.

It didn't take a genius to figure out Angela needed to get something off her chest and it didn't take a profiler to understand how incredibly hard that girl was finding this revelation to be.

"Whenever you're ready, Angela Hunter. No rush. I'm here…" Emily said with a smile.

"I'll always be here." Emily added, letting her hand caress Angela's face before they broke the hug off simultaneously.

"Can we, please, get out of here? I feel like I can't breathe. I need some fresh air." Angela asked, rushing to the door with her cheeks red, like they were burning.

Emily quickly paid for the things that they had already finished eating, and she joined Angela outside.

"It's a beautiful day…" Emily pointed out, trying to start a new topic, to get both of their minds off of what was bothering them.

"You know what's going to be beautiful?" Angie said, staring at Emily's face, quite like Richard always used to. It was creepy, but it was also cute, in its own weird way.

"Do I dare ask what?" Emily sighed. She already knew Angela was a Daredevil and she wouldn't be surprised if the girl randomly suggested they'd go bungee jumping off the Empire State Building.

"You!" Angie smirked. "You'll look banging hot without the stupid fringe."

Angela's blunt way of saying things always made Emily laugh and this was no exception.

"Add some highlights here and there. Maybe go a tone lighter, overall. Yup, definitely lighter…" Angie circled around Emily, checking her hair out.

"Okay, I'm starting to have complexes now…" Emily's hand slicked her hair back, suddenly not so sure of her hairdo and how well it fit her.

"You mean 'insecurities'?" Angie said smartly. "Because 'complex' is an informal term for what happens when someone develops a belief, and it is often an exaggerated belief, that a particular situation is dangerous or embarrassing. And 'insecurities' are-…"

She trailed off when she saw Emily fold her hands and eye her up and down. Yes, she had most definitely once again entered Angela-Nerd Mode and she needed to be stopped.

"Well, how long have you had this hair for?" Angie asked, returning to the main topic.

"Since I came back to life. Well, the second time around." Emily's words usually confused people. But Angela did not even flinch.

"How about a third rebirth then? Come on, you'll look just great. I promise. Just…trust me, okay?" Angie held her hand out and Emily hesitantly put hers on top of it and let the girl drag her down the street, in search of a hair salon.

Fifteen minutes later they walked in the hair salon of their choice, laughing like they were drunk.

Angela had just shared one of her weird, random stories, making Emily lose it. This girl was a pretty good storyteller and it didn't help that her stories were full of crazy twists and juicy details, too. In less than half an hour Emily had gone from desperately wanting to cry her heart out because of a huge loss, to desperately trying not to cry from laughter, because of what Angela was saying.

They found themselves in front of the reception desk at the beauty salon, calming down their giggles so they would be able to speak to the girl who welcomed them.

"Hi, she needs a makeover. Quickly!" Angie said dramatically, pointing at Emily's hair.

"God, you're making me feel self-conscious right now." Emily faked offense.

"Woman, please! If you ever need a pick me up, go ask Bryan about Agent Hotness. He'll tell you all about her well-shaped ass and those…well, _those_!" Angie pointed at Emily's chest, well hidden behind her buttoned up smart shirt.

"Jesus Christ! Is _that_ what you, young people, discuss these days!?" Emily gasped.

"Is it _not_ what you discussed when you were _my_ age?" Angie raised an eyebrow.

"It still is, my dear." Emily resumed laughing and checked out the progress of the girl who had welcomed them to the salon.

They were now trying to accommodate them as soon as possible.

"Miss, we have two adjacent chairs, if you want." The woman said politely, pointing at the chairs that were just getting liberated by two elderly women.

"Oh, no. It's just _her_." Angie shook her head.

"Girl, if _I_ suffer for beauty…_you_ suffer for beauty with me. Okay?" Emily felt a new mix of emotions.

With Angela, things always moved fast. She'd make Emily laugh and then she'd say something that would make her want to cry and scream at the top of her lungs, then she'd be laughing again, to the point where tears would fall from her eyes.

"Okay, fine. I will sacrifice my sanity. Only for you, Emily Prentiss…only for you!" Angie said dramatically, pretending like a beauty procedure wouldn't be an awesome thing to do in New York City.

Emily felt like she was watching a play. That's what this was. Angela was an actress and the world was her stage. She would change costumes, play different roles, show different emotions. She would make her public laugh and cry with her, she'd take them on an emotional rollercoaster ride and she'd rise and fall, with them by her side.

But that public – the ones who _really_ got to experience the play and _understand_ the play, was limited. She had a lot of spectators and she sure liked to put on a show, but those special ones, the ones who got it, the ones who got _her_, were not many.

So far, she had only let Rossi see a tiny piece of her soft side. Bryan, as well. And, to Emily's dismay, she was slowly allowing _her_ to move to that front row and enjoy her show from up-close.

Emily would sometimes close her eyes for a few seconds, while Angela narrated one of her wild stories. She'd dive into her thoughts, listening to this girl go on and on about whatever topic. She'd occasionally sigh or chuckle and, deep within each phrase, each word, Emily would find a meaning. Spontaneously. She wouldn't even have to search or think about it. Those words, Angela's actions, would speak to Emily's heart.

The hairdressers who came to tend to them were two adorable young guys, very funky looking in their daring outfits and even more daring hairdos. Angie loved everything about them. If they were walking down the street, looking like this, people would call them freaks. But to Angela, their style communicated something else. She could relate. She had tried so hard, and so many times, to be a different version of herself, to look like someone else, like someone new. But each time, she ended up feeling like herself. That was hardly a bad thing, though. It almost felt like she knew _exactly_ what Emily had been trying to tell her just earlier – about the different versions of Emily, the names and the disguise, but still the same person underneath it all. Angela could relate completely.

"So, beauties, what are we doing today? A little trim and blow out?" One of the boys suggested.

Looking at Emily, all prim and proper in her FBI approved attire, he assumed she wouldn't be the daring type who'd go for a complete makeover.

"Hmm, actually. How about we switch things up a little. Like, lot…" Emily smirked.

Checking herself out in the mirror, she realized she hated that look. She had sported it since she came back from the London Interpol Office, with the only difference that she had grown bangs now. Those were annoying. They covered too much of her face and she did not feel comfortable, or cute, for that matter.

"I'm going lighter. Like, brown. With some highlights, but please, not the Godawful yellow strikes that are visible from an airplane! I want them subtle. And I want my hair somewhat curly. Like…beach waves, but bolder. Make them stand out. Play with it, I don't know…get creative." Emily had quite the specific look in her mind, even if she didn't realize it herself.

In a way, she had just described Lauren Reynolds' exact look, from all those years ago.

"Oh, Mamma's going younger!" Her assigned hairdresser said, clapping his hands contently.

He could already tell how amazing Emily would look like that.

"How about your daughter? What are we going to do with you, sexy model babe?" Angie's hairdresser said with a huge smile, while his fingers brushed through her long honey-brown hair, adoring its length and texture.

Angie sucked in a breath. What did he just call her?

Emily went a little pale, but said nothing at all. Had she not just spoken about a lost child? Hearing words like those made her a bit…upset. They also compensated for some of the pain, filling a void she had carried inside her for years now.

It almost felt…natural, for her to hear such words.

If only they were true…

"Her daughter is damn fine, the way she is." Angie did a little Diva hair flip, because if she didn't use her spark at a hair salon, being tended to by two very funky looking guys, one of whom wore boots with heels; then where the Hell would be a more appropriate time and place to do so?

"Okay, I'm going for that trim and blow out. I also want the beach waves. Don't you dare ruin my face by cutting bangs! I swear to God…!" She laughed, clearly being humoristic rather than rude and obnoxious.

Emily noticed Angela's half-spoken threat. It was Emily's most famous one liner ever. There was not a single person at Quantico who would ever hear those words and not think about Emily Prentiss. It was her trademark and it sounded just as genuinely convincing, coming from Angela's mouth, too.

The guys loved the vibe at the salon, having those two girls there. They would later spend the entire time discussing random things like music, fashion, and other boys.

"So, let me get this straight, Baby Doll…" Angie's hairdresser said, shooting a look between her and Emily.

"You basically wanna turn into a Mamma 2.0?" He added.

Angie chuckled. It was true – they both wanted the same hairstyle, only that Angie's hair would still be longer. And much more sane, having evited dying it and destroying it with blow-dryers and blow outs.

"Exactly!" Angie smirked.

With what she already knew about Emily Prentiss, maybe turning into her was not such a bad thing, after all. Literally or figuratively.

Neither her, nor Emily, ever corrected what the guys presumed about their connection. Let them believe what they wanted to. Why the Hell not?

It was their week to experience new things and to get to know each other. So, this was new and it didn't feel bad…or awkward. In a way, in a very dark and twisted way, it felt kind of good. _Very_ good, actually.

"You must be so proud of her. She's gorgeous." Emily's hairdresser pointed out, studying Angie's facial features carefully, in the mirror.

"_So_ incredibly proud…" Emily said weakly, adding to herself: _you wouldn't even believe it._

It didn't take Angie long to find common ground with the boys. Apparently, they were huge Musical theater fans as well. Emily knew a lot, but not as much as these three nutjobs who took 'fun' on a whole new level.

Angie felt comfortable enough to put on a show, for the whole Salon. The guys would suggest a Musical and she'd randomly sing a piece of its theme song.

"Girl, you have a beautiful voice. You should be on Broadway!" Emily's hairdresser said to Angie.

She did not seem to mind the attention, at all. She felt absolutely in her element, singing in front of about twenty people and it was obvious how much she was enjoying it.

"I have some Musical training. When I was young, I wanted to be a Broadway star. Haha, look at where I ended up." Angie rolled her eyes and laughed at the irony of life.

"Where are you now?" Angie's hairdresser asked her curiously. He figured she must be a back-up singer or a dancer for someone relatively famous.

"I'm with the FBI!" Angie said with a content smirk. It wasn't such a bad compromise after all. "To be honest, I've always had the FBI as first option. Broadway was my safety job. More like, my guilty pleasure. I should specify that I was five years old. It was pretty much the same, for me. I considered both jobs as great fun. Guess I still do."

"Girl, you're weird…" One of the guys stated, absolutely in shock to hear that this fragile little thing was an FBI Agent.

Emily did not correct Angie with the fact that she was not yet an actual working Agent. She didn't have the heart to do that, so she simply let Angie have her moment of awesomeness.

"…But I like it. I like your vibe." The same guy continued his thought.

"Thanks. People sometimes think I'm a freak or that I'm bigheaded. Oh, so not the case." She chuckled before randomly busting into a song from Aladdin.

"She's the most down to Earth person on the planet. But God, yes, she is a freak!" Emily pointed out with a smile.

She had gotten to know Angela Hunter just a few weeks ago. Briefly. She still didn't know exactly what she stood for and who she was, but she already liked what she saw.

"Okay, Hot Mamma, ready to cut ten years?" Emily's guy said, having mixed the dye and waiting to apply it to her hair.

"Make that fifteen and I'll tip you generously." Emily said contently, tilting her head and allowing him to work his magic.

She also sent a silent prayer to all higher powers, hoping that she wouldn't look like a clown. It was a bit of a bold change for someone like SSA Prentiss – predictable.

"Oh, I can't wait to see the look on Bryan's face when he sees the new and improved Agent Hotness." Angela teased, nudging Emily, sitting right next to her.

"You _do_ realize how inappropriate this conversation is, right?" Emily blushed.

On one hand, it felt good to hear that a hot, young guy was into her.

But on the other hand, she could be his boss. Scratch that – she could be his mother! This was just…weird.

"Yup." Angie smirked contently.

She loved pushing people's buttons and the fact that The Great Emily Prentiss was giving her the green light to continue doing so, was a sweet plus.

"How about he finds someone his age? Or, has he already?" It was now Emily's turn to push Angie's buttons, nudging her back.

"I dunno." Angie shrugged, knowing what was about to hit her.

"Come on. The guy moved in with you…"

"Only because my roommate decided to die for a few weeks. And then we found out she was an undercover Agent who was infiltrated to make our first two weeks miserable."

"Mhm…" Emily muttered, not believing a word.

"What? Seriously? Bryan and I!?" Angie laughed. It sounded so ridiculous.

"Why not? He's hot."

"Oh, so you _do_ like him?" Angie teased.

"Jesus, okay, this came out _so_ wrong…" At this point Emily was blushing profoundly.

Why did Angela have to have this crazy ability to twist someone's words against them? Damn!

"You don't have to worry. There will never be anything between Bryan and me. That's why I chose him." Angie's statement made Emily suspicious.

"Chose him for what?"

"To be in my life forever."

"Forever? You've only known him for, what, eight weeks now?" Emily scoffed.

Maybe Angela was being a bit naïve. Friendships would change with the time. She couldn't be so sure, or she'd end up hurt.

"I'm only a good judge of character when it comes to the people I want in my life forever. I spot those out since the moment I meet them. I know what I want and I've never been wrong. Plus, there aren't many people on my 'Nice list', so…" Angie shrugged casually.

If she had to be honest, she could count those people on the fingers of one hand and still be left with a spare finger to flash one of the people who did _not_ make it on the list.

"Who else is on your Nice list?" Emily asked curiously.

"Just…people."

"People who would remain on the Nice list or people you're not sure about anymore?"

"I dunno. I guess they shall remain…" Angie's own reply confused her.

She took a moment to think of the names of people on that list. She checked all the names as Safe, except for the first name on the list – the most important one of them all. For some reason, she was unable to put that mental green check sign in front of that name. She felt like she didn't even know that person anymore…like that person did not exist anymore. Wasn't that why she had named them Monkey?

"Beautieeeees…" One of the hairdressers interrupted them. "Since you've been such a ray of sunshine in our Salon, we've decided that all of your beauty treatments today are on the house."

"Oh, we can't accept that…" Emily panicked, being used to the ban of accepting favors, in her capacity of an FBI Agent.

"Speak for yourself. I'm broke!" Angie laughed, not even realizing how she had just admitted to not having money. It wasn't something she wanted people to know about.

"We absolutely insist! That woman who was just sitting here earlier…" The hairdresser pointed to a now empty chair, two chairs away from theirs. "Well, she's a Socialite and she just tagged our Salon on her Instagram, saying the atmosphere was awesome and she had live entertainment, thanks to your singing. We just got over 200 new likes on our page. So, it is our pleasure to offer you also a complimentary manicure, too, if you'd like. Anything for our favorite Mommy-and-me darlings!"

His voice was high-pitched, very feminine and so adorable. Angie almost regretted not having any form of social media, so she would be able to follow him and his colleague.

Angie caught a glimpse of Emily's face in the mirror, after she heard yet another mommy-related comment. Maybe she should have spoken up earlier, set the record straight as to what their relationship really was? All this pretending was fun, until it hurt Emily. And it _did_ hurt her. It made her think of the loss she had just shared with Angela.

Without saying a word, Angie put her right hand on Emily's left knee and when their eyes met, she smiled. A warm smile. A bright smile. A genuine smile. A smile that warmed Emily's heart for so many reasons.

"Hey? Chin up, Princess. The world deserves to see you smile!" Angie whispered to Emily.

"Also, we don't want that crown to fall from your head. Nobody else deserves it. Nobody, but _you_!" Angie added confidently.

To say that she _worshipped_ that woman would be a huge understatement. Angela was more than obsessed with everything she did and if it were up to her, she'd want to breathe the air Emily Prentiss would breathe, for the rest of their lives and there would be no other acceptable alternative.

Emily took a moment to analyze Angela's face, now that the girl's hands had forced her to keep her head up and to look her straight in the eyes.

There was something so soft about it. About _her_. Apart from hey honey-like voice and those almost invisible cute little dimples on her cheeks, there was something else that Emily felt so drawn to, so relaxed by, so intrigued by.

"Who turned you into this wonderful human being?" Emily said, a tone just above a whisper.

_"And why are you doing this to me?"_ She added silently, only saying those words in her own head, while her lips remained immobile.

"Life…" Angie shrugged lightly. Suddenly there was something else on that face – a childlike sorrow. "And people…"

"Must have been one Hell of a tough life…" Emily trailed off mysteriously, just like Angela had just done.

"And some Hell of an amazing bunch of people, too…" Angie added, feeling the need to point that out, as if that was the most important part of her statement.

"Do you ever look back? At life…with those people?" Emily asked.

By that time, the hairdressers were away for a few minutes, waiting for Emily's dye to work it's magic before they'd rinse it off.

"Mhh, yeah. But it makes me sad. Extremely sad. And I don't want Angela Hunter to be sad…"

"How are you going to battle her sadness then?" Emily had an idea. A few, really. But she wasn't going to impose them on this girl. No. She'd make Angela analyze her situation and choose her best option, on her own.

She was a grown up now. She was fully capable of taking decisions for herself.

"I haven't figured it out yet." Angie shrugged again, being the first one to break the eye contact, as it was starting to feel a bit weird already.

"Guess I thought I'd figure it out this week." She added, hesitantly.

"There is still time. It's only Wednesday." Emily pointed out before realizing that time seemed to fly and she was confused about the days. "Wait, is it Thursday? Already!?"

Angela was quiet. It was unusual. Emily could sense how she had mentally transferred herself to another place, in another time.

"You don't have to figure your whole life out, in just seven days, Angela Hunter." Emily said softly, when Angela failed to engage in the conversation for a minute or two. She was there physically, but mentally she was elsewhere.

"But that's all I have…" Angie said with sadness in her voice.

"All you have with _what_?" Emily knew what the girl meant, but maybe making her say it out loud would help her figure some issues out already.

Angie did not speak. Slowly, hesitantly, her index finger pointed at Emily, as reply.

"Ohh, sweetheart. If I am an important piece in your puzzle of life, you should know you would _always_ have me, to turn to." Emily then tried to touch Angela's hand, which was on the armrest of the chair, but Angie shrieked away, like Emily was the Devil.

"Would I?" Angie raised an eyebrow, only letting Emily see it in the mirror. She refused to make further eye contact.

"Yes, Angela Hunter. You would!" It took Emily a nanosecond to reply. Her voice was a bit louder, a bit more serious now.

Angie shrugged, yet again.

"But I'm sick of people saying that…" She only came out with half the truth.

"People will _always_ say that." Emily spoke the tough truth.

"And I'm sick of them _always_ leaving, after saying that." Angie continued with the other half of what was really bothering her.

"People will _always_ leave." Emily's statement shocked her.

It was far from what Angie wanted to hear. It was rough, upsetting, but it was the truth. At least _one_ person was being honest with her. Finally.

"But if they care about you, they will always find their way back to you." Emily sighed, continuing that thought about people always leaving. "You just have to let them back into your life. Because, trust me, if someone is busting their ass to be in your life, they sure as Hell want to be there."

Angie raised an eyebrow at those last few words, not fully believing what she was hearing.

"_Always_ is a pretty damn big word, you know?" Angie spat out her next statement, since the word 'always' was recurring in their last few statements.

She hated that word. She did not believe it in anymore. To her, that word was nothing but a promise that would surely one day be broken.

"Oh, come on! You are incredibly hard to deal with!" Emily chuckled at Angie's disbelief. "You close yourself off, you push people away and you'd rather spend years, keeping all the pain locked inside of you, than giving them a chance of maybe healing you. If someone is fighting to be back in your life, even after all of your little tantrums, there must be a solid reason. And as far as 'always' is concerned – yes, I may have learned the power of that word, the hard way. If it gives you any peace of mind – I hate that word, too."

Angie now gulped. That was so damn true.

"Oh yeah?" She challenged, finally getting the courage to pierce Emily with a stare. "How is Emily Prentiss any different?"

"She isn't." Emily confided. "She is the absolute same way. And she is stubborn, in a self-destructive way. And, after years of closing herself off for happiness, she is finally faced with the only option – dying sad and alone."

"Hey, don't say that!" Angela cringed at the possibility of Emily Prentiss dying. Let alone sad and alone.

"It's the truth, Angela Hunter. I don't have anyone. All my colleagues are married, they have children…" Emily trailed off.

"I mean, screw men, but…don't you want to have children?" She asked curiously.

"I do…but it's just not happening for me." Emily looked down at her nails. She had the habit of biting them when she was nervous and recently her hands have been looking like a mess.

"Hello, Hot Mamma." Emily's hairdresser returned and busied himself washing her hair while Angie's hairdresser prepared her to get the curls of her dreams.

They boys had tended to another couple of quick trims, while Emily's dye would work its magic. Now that they were back, noticing Emily's desperate need of a manicure, they snapped their fingers in the air and two girls prepared seats for Emily and Angela to go get their manicure, as soon as their hairstyles were ready.

While the girls got blow-dried and pampered, the sound of the blow-driers was too loud, so they could not talk. It was not until they sat down for the manicure that Angela spoke up.

"Emily Prentiss looks like an amazing woman. I'm sorry to hear she's not happy. She should be. She deserves so much more in life." She said honesty, making Emily move her hand across the table and place it on top of Angela's, for just a second.

This time Angie did not shriek away. She let Emily touch her. It did not freak her out, as it usually did when people touched her. This was…different.

"Thank you for saying that, Angela Hunter." Emily forced a smile, but Angie knew that it was not genuine.

She could feel the pain that Emily's eyes and nonverbal signs were communicating. And whenever Angie felt someone else's pain, she usually cracked. She was perfectly able to keep up a straight face in any other occasion, except for when the people she cared about were in pain. It was then that she would lose her cool and let things slip.

And, for some odd reason, having just met Emily Prentiss, the Unit Chief, Angie already cared about her. A lot.

"You know what?" There it was, she was already slipping. "I needed this week to help me figure out where someone else stands, in my life. Different name, completely different person, different place, feels like from a different life, too…"

Emily listened intently, but at some point Angie just stopped talking, in mid-sentence. Emily saw her bite her bottom lip and it made her smile, genuinely this time, because at that moment Angela was a mirror image of Emily Prentiss – biting her lips when nervous.

_Thank God_, Emily thought, _this girl does not bite her nails, as well_.

Angie inhaled sharply, looking like she was giving herself a mental pep talk, so she'd have the courage to continue speaking.

That courage was not there yet.

Emily let her have her time. There was no point in rushing things. Emily had tried rushing many things in life and each time she had failed. This time, with Angela Hunter, she wouldn't take chances. She had to thread carefully.

After another deep breath, the courage was still not there.

It was then that Emily felt something…

"But I guess I'm slowly figuring out where Emily Prentiss stands, instead…" Angie finally whispered, after letting her hand search for Emily's, which was still on the table.

A small gesture like this one made Emily's chin quiver. Everyone had already figured out that Angela hated proximity. She'd barely let anyone touch her and she would most definitely _not_ initiate physical contact, herself.

So, to have that hand, one that felt so small, so innocent, so childlike…now search for her own, in a way giving Emily some sort of control, power, some type of…hope. It made Emily proud. Happy. Appreciated.

"What about Angela Hunter? Where does _she_ stand, with Emily Prentiss?" She asked curiously, her smaller hand now squeezing Emily's, as if she was really a child. A scared child. A child that needed protection.

Seeing Emily vulnerable and hearing her admit to being screwed up and alone, had definitely kicked Angela's 'tough girl' walls down, until there was nothing left, but the real girl behind those emerald eyes.

And Emily liked what she was seeing.

"I have never doubted the fact that Angela Hunter is a girl, worth fighting for!" Emily stated, without taking a breath.

"Are you?" Angie raised an eyebrow. "…Going to fight for me?" She added, explaining her previous question.

"Until he last breath I take on this planet." Emily stated.

"You are worth every battle, every drop of blood, every hit, every blow, every lie, every tear, every fight and every gunshot wound." Emily then did something she only ever did with JJ – she brought both of her hands to Angela's face, cupping it in them and making the girl look her, straight in the eyes as she spoke.

It was also possibly the first time that Emily called Angie "_you_" and not "_Angela Hunter_".

"Hey, hey?" Emily whispered, feeling Angie resist those hands that were making her face Emily.

"It's okay. I mean it. All of it. Look at me…" Emily pleaded and Angie could not deny her.

"I'm never going to stop fighting for you." Emily repeated and stared at Angela's face until she saw her nod, confirming that she had received the message, loud and clear.

"Can we do more stuff?" Angie asked naively, changing topic and confusing Emily.

"I mean, do we have to go to the airport right away?" Angie elaborated.

The clock was ticking and, as fun as it had been to get pampered, she knew that in a few hours they should go back to reality. To Emily Prentiss' reality.

"We can do whatever we want. We have four more hours until the flight. Let's make the most of them." Emily smirked, feeling oddly adventurous.

After their nails got built and shaped with gel – Emily's painted in a beautiful Bordeaux color, to compliment some of her favorite clothing items; and Angie's in bubblegum pink, to compliment her personality; it was time for them to leave the Salon.

Emily exchanged numbers with the hairdresser guys, just because they had been such sweethearts through this whole experience and then she found herself outside, crossing the street, with Angela walking by her side, with no aim…they just started walking.

And weirdly, it felt good to walk next to each other.

"Can I just say that you look damn good with your hair like this?" Angie pointed out, glancing over at Emily a few times, curiously checking her out.

"Can I just point out how much I adore having you around when you compliment me?" Emily said with a smirk, letting one hand feel the bounciness of her new curls.

Her new hairstyle made her feel good, not only just _look_ good. She remembered having a very similar style, back in the days when she was Lauren Reynolds. In a way she had once convinced herself that this hairstyle was the reason why Lauren had been so funky, so carefree, so savage. Years ago, Emily Prentiss had loved wearing her hair like this, it had given her comfort, it had made her feel like a completely different person. Weirdly, it didn't feel wrong that she had just gone back to her Lauren Reynolds hairstyle, being Emily Prentiss now. Somehow it symbolized the merging of those two women, in one – the real Emily Prentiss, the person she had always been, no matter the name she might have been using for a while.

"Actually, I don't mind you even when you make me second guess myself. It serves me well. I guess I kind of like you, with everything you bring to the table." Emily then added to her statement.

She had given this some thought lately. Angela was a straight shooter and she always knew she'd get the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, with her. If a piece of clothing didn't look good on Emily, Angela would surely let her know, so she'd avoid making a fool of herself if she walked out in public, wearing it. If Emily was doing or saying something dumb, Angela won't sugarcoat it, either. It was not a bad thing to have someone point out your flaws, even if Angie's ways were a bit savage. Emily understood her. She appreciated her.

Angie smiled weakly at what Emily had just said. It felt good to feel appreciated.

"I'm surprised I'm not hungry again. I'm always up for food." Angie laughed, feeling the pleasant smell of hot dogs, coming from a street stand nearby. Also, she needed a change of topic before she'd let herself feel bigheaded.

"Speaking of food, are you eating well?" Emily's protective instincts kicked in.

She, herself, had gone through a battle with food. At fifteen, Emily Prentiss had gone through way too many battles. All on her own. She'd be damned if she let another young girl suffer the same faith.

"Mmh, yeah." Angie nodded hesitantly.

"_Mmh_? Angela Hunter, this is _my_ line. You should know better by now." Emily rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine. Really."

"I shall be inclined on believing you, young lady. You certainly do look healthy." Emily admitted. She had seen Angela eat and that girl had an appetite.

"How about materially? You doing good?" Emily pushed it a bit further.

"It is kind of rude to ask people you don't know, about their monetary status, you know?" Angie faked offense, just so she'd get away with answering the question.

The only thing Emily did was to raise an eyebrow at her and Angie started singing the truth.

"Ok, fine. I'm not too well off, but I'm managing. I don't need money. I have coupons for food and that's all I need. If I ever need money, I know how to provide for myself." She sighed.

"You do realize that, being part of the FBI now, your ways of providing have to be _legal_, right?" Emily's eyebrow was still up, looking at the girl disapprovingly.

"Either that, or I shall be smart enough not to get caught!" Angie smirked, clearly just joking. Or, was she?

"Alright. Jesus, woman! Ugh." She gave up, throwing her hands in the air dramatically. "I'm always wise and somewhat legal, when it comes to my revenue channels."

"God, Angela Hunter, you really are a piece of work!" Emily smiled and pointed at a beauty shop.

"What? Wanna go rob this place?" Angie smirked at her own words. Stealing make-up had once been the beginning of a nightmare of hers. In her sleep, she would enter a shop and put some eye shadow pallets in her bag before someone busted her and, somehow, guns were blazing and she was locked inside a cell, with five armed men. She never really figured out the meaning of that nightmare and she had only had it twice in her life. But each time she had found it ironic that, in her sleep, she'd die, over something as stupid as make-up.

"No, of course not. Oh my God!" Emily gasped.

Why was she even surprised at anything this girl said anymore?

"We could use a little color on our faces. I mean, we can't rock this awesome new hair with no make-up at all, right?" Emily explained her suggestion to enter that shop.

"Oh, Emily Prentiss…I like you!" Angie clapped her hands enthusiastically and started crossing the street, ignoring the light that was clearly still red.

"Aren't you a Daredevil, Angela Hunter…" Emily's words were not a question, but a mere observation.

"Why, yes I am, Ma'am!" Angie smirked. "Or are you too legal now to be caught jaywalking?"

There were no cars on the street, as she crossed. Why would she wait? Moreover, why would she pass on a perfect opportunity to tease Emily Prentiss about her lawful citizen, super legal ways?

"Oh, mon Dieu, please do not call me _that_!" Emily cringed.

The last time someone had called her Ma'am, it had been Richard. And then, also Luke Alvez, but he was being am ass to her occasionally, jokingly pissing her off by calling her that. She always let that slide, because deep down inside, she loved the sick and twisted friendship she had with the guy whom she had profiled and insulted as soon as he had joined the FBI. Looking back on that moment, Emily blushed. She also wanted to strangle JJ for not having made a sign for her to stop talking, when she had noticed Luke right behind Emily. If only Emily knew that JJ did make the subtle sign, but it was Emily who hadn't caught on it and had continued going on and on about the 'new guy's' issues, as profiled by the lack of personal objects on his desk.

"It's funny. Soon enough the Academy will be done and I'll end up calling _someone_ Madam, during my internship." Angie said casually.

"How are you so sure the Unit Chief would be a woman?" Emily played dumb.

"Because I know they are." At this point, it was painfully obvious what Angie was hinting about.

Emily did not comment. There was still that final piece of information that she had not yet told that girl and, no matter how much she wanted to be completely honest with her, she simply did not want to be the reason for her beautiful smile to turn into a frown.

"Hey, maybe they'll be cool, like Emily Prentiss, and they'd wanna fight for me, too." Angie shrugged and at this point Emily was wondering if the girl already knew the truth and if this was her way of guilt-tricking Emily into changing the fact that the BAU was not having an intern.

Maybe if Emily heard about the possibility of Angela, working for someone else, it might make her want to do something about the BAU Internship situation?

Unfortunately, it did not depend on Emily anymore.

Damn the BAU team and their conspiracy against Emily, in regard to the budget cuts…

"Oh, I love this song!" Angie overheard a tune, coming from a shop near them.

She smiled and danced a little.

"I love that song, as well." Emily said, allowing herself to, mentally, sing along with the song.

Emily had always liked Usher. More so after, years ago, JJ had shown her a photo of him, topless. It had been in a magazine and there was something so memorable about the way the light shined off of his oiled up, naked six pack, especially with the color of his skin. Emily had a type, she'd never admit it, but she was drawn to the same type of men.

"_See this girl, she sorta looks just like you…_" Angie started singing, randomly, on the sidewalk.

Why the Hell not? She was young, she was carefree… People her age did way worse and way more scandalous things, on a daily basis. All she wanted was to sing a song.

"_She even smiles just the way you do…_" She twirled around and took Emily's hand, putting up yet another one of her shows.

"_So innocent she seemed, but I was fooled…I'm reminded when I look at you…_" Emily weirdly joined in, muttering the rest of the words after having looked around like a creep, trying to figure out if there were people, watching them.

At the end she gave up and gave into the temptation to sing a damn song. Why the Hell not?

"You_ remind me of a girl that I once knew__…_" Angie smiled, loving the fact that Emily was finally starting to be more fun, less Chief.

"_See her face whenever I, I look at you…_" Angie continued singing, this time in perfect sync with Emily's voice, for this specific line.

"_You won't believe all of the things that she put me through…_" Emily ended off the chorus line, ignoring the very last line about getting together with that said girl - that would sound weird if she sung it out loud, on the street.

Also, what it hinted at was _so not_ what either Emily or Angela were thinking of.

"Such a bad, bad girl she must have been…" Angie chuckled.

There was no alternate universe in which Angela Hunter would hold back a sarcastic comment on _any_ topic. That made Emily smile, reminding her of the same exact way that Lauren Reynolds had been – full of sarcasm and fierceness. She sort of missed some of Lauren's traits. Would it really be such a bad thing to act a little like Lauren, even when she was being Emily Prentiss?

"Can't argue with you there." Emily suddenly felt a little self-conscious.

What was she doing? She was standing in front of a shop, singing along to a song, with a girl who clearly felt much more comfortable in putting on a show.

Since when was Emily Prentiss so spontaneous?

Why did she enjoy this so much?

"Okay, now we go dancing!" Angie stated calmly.

"It's the afternoon, on a Wednesday…or Thursday!" Emily pointed out, still confused about which day it was.

She could only hope it was a Wednesday, as that would give her one more full day, with Angela by her side.

"There are enough dim-lit bars to choose from. Come on, it's New York City! What happens in New York, stays in New York!"

"I'm pretty sure that only applies for Vegas…" Emily trailed off. "Although, God, I hope it also applies for Atlantic City, with all those _Sin To Win_ weekends, phew…"

Angie smirked, but said nothing, which triggered Emily's curiosity.

"What? Come on, say it." Emily urged her, knowing that there was something on Angela's mind.

"_Sin To Win_? Never thought Emily Prentiss was the naughty type…" Angie really wanted to smirk, but for some reason, her body response to her own words was to blush. Her cheeks turned red. Maybe this time she had pushed her teasing a bit too far. Emily was, after all, an authority figure, even if she hadn't been acting like one with her, at least not when they were alone.

Emily's response was to start laughing genuinely. Oh, if Angela only knew that Emily always won big…

"Come on, Daredevil, let's go dancing." She urged Angie, placing a hand on her shoulder and urging her to start walking again.

Emily now had a specific bar in mind. She remembered she had been there with JJ and Tara once, at noon, and it had been great. The music had been loud and, after five drinks, neither of them cared that the bar was empty. They had all danced and acted silly. She could only hope the bar still existed, as this had happened over a year ago.

"Oh, hip-hop, yes!" Angie was in awe when they walked in, ten minutes later.

The bar did still exist and it was still just as funky as Emily remembered it.

Walking in, they followed a long hallway, with pictures of the biggest names in R'n'B and hip-hop, from the East Coast. Angie took an eternity to walk down the hallway, as she kept stopping in front of pictures and recognizing the singers.

They could hear the music, coming from the downstairs floor, where all the tables were situated. It was the real hip-hop, the one that Angela really liked. The songs were old and the lights were dim, the bar was open and there was not a single thing in the world Angela needed to add to this perfect little Heaven she had been introduced to.

"Lemon tonic, please." Emily ordered at the bar.

"Yeah, she most certainly forgot to mention the gin, inside." Angie added, yelling to the bartender, on top of the loud music.

"Angela!" Emily said, a bit scandalized. "We can't drink!"

"Why not? We're done with the case and, as far as I know, neither of us is pregnant. What's stopping us?" Angie said with a mischievous wink.

"Ugh…I swear, you'll be the end of me!" Emily muttered to her, shrugging lightly and allowing the bartender to go nuts on the gin, seeing as he had been bored before they showed around and he was very eager to mix some cocktails now. Maybe he'll even get a generous tip if he got them drunk quickly.

"What a sweet end that would be!" Angela said confidently.

Emily was a little confused by her. At times she would speak highly of herself and most times it was obvious she had quite a good opinion of herself, but other times – mostly when she was surrounded by the entire BAU team, Angela would second-guess herself and downright put herself down or call herself 'useless'. Why? Those were two completely different behaviors that belonged to two completely different types of personalities. Then again, Angela was neither of them. If anything, she was a mix of both.

An hour later Angela was ordering a third cocktail, telling the bartender to get creative and to mix whatever the Hell he wanted to. Emily had tried to tell her that mixing alcoholic drinks and trying out so many different alcohols at once was not the best idea, but Angela wanted to hear none of it. She was out and she was having fun. She was not a child and she knew how to handle herself if she got tipsy. Plus, she was in good hands.

However, Emily decided to try and outdrink her, so they both ended up in need of someone with a good head on their shoulders. Sadly, they only had one another, so they had to contribute with the best they still had in them.

"We should get going soon…" Emily tried to say, watching Angie take a big sip of her fresh drink.

"Neeeh, the Hell with the flight." Angie giggled.

In reality, she was very responsible and she wouldn't miss a flight. She just wanted to say it out loud, to let herself feel like she was breaking the rules or doing something bad. She'd run after the damn jet, if she had to, but she knew that ultimately she'd be on that flight and so would be Emily Prentiss, even if she had to drag her there.

"Yup, screw the flight…" Emily trailed off, snapping her fingers in the air in attempts to grab the bartender's attention. "Ey, can we get another one of these?"

"Hello?" Emily added with a pout when the guy didn't even tilt his head up from looking down at his phone screen.

"Hey, you…?" Emily rolled her eyes.

The bar was empty. Yes, the music was still loud, but was it really so damn hard to notice your only two customers?

"You gotta flash the babes!" Angie said smartly.

"Eww, shut up. That only works in a crowded bar. Why would I need to flash-…" While Emily was trying to deny the validity of Angela's naughty little suggestion, Angie took it upon her to prove her words right.

She leaned over the bar, making sure her shirt would get a little too tangled on something, so she'd end up showing a little too much skin.

"Whoopsie." Angie chuckled innocently, pretending to be embarrassed as she fixed her V-neck into a semi-presentable position.

"Well, hello there." She added as the bartender's neck snapped sideways, instantly checking Angie out. "Now that I have your attention, can we get new drinks?"

The guy nodded instantly and started preparing two drinks, while every now and then he kept on checking Angela out.

"Incredible…" Emily shook her head, in half denial. The other half of what she felt was rage. Did it really take showing off your chest, for a guy to notice you these days? And if that was what it took, how many guys have checked Angela out, with her carefree attitude and her apparent flirting, even if it was all fake?

Richard had not been like that. Not at all! He had clearly appreciated seeing Emily in less than the usual clothing garments one would wear in public, but he had never acted like a hungry teenager, drooling over her in a borderline disrespectful way. The thought of that made her smile.

At some point she took her credit card out, intending to pay, before it slipped through her fingers and ended up on the floor. Angela picked it up and handed it to the bartender.

"I'll need a name, for confirmation." The guy asked, looking at Angela, since it had been her to hand him the card, even if it belonged to Emily, instead.

"Josephine…" Angie said in deep, dark and mysterious voice, as if she was imitating someone.

The guy didn't even care enough to look down to check that the name written on the card said Emily Prentiss, instead. He just swiped it and credited all the drinks to Emily.

"Really!? Okay Nikita, calm down!" Emily could not stop laughing, as soon as she heard Angie's dramatic way of introducing herself.

"No shit! You know _'La Femme Nikita'_?" Angie nearly freaked out at this realization.

She was used to being dramatic and quoting things that most normal people did not know about, but to have someone catch on such a quote, so quickly, gave her so much satisfaction.

"Are you kidding me? A convicted felon, turned into a spy and an assassin for a secret government organization, against her will? Falls in love with a mysterious hot dark-haired man and struggles to fit her feelings in with the job she now has? I loved that TV show! The original, I mean. The latest version, not so much. And watch your language, young girl." Emily could not help her inner nerd coming out. It was just bound to happen. With Angela it wasn't even weird, it was like they were two of a kind – both had their geeky moments and their weird outbursts that could be read so wrong, if someone did not know what they were referring to.

Also, she could not stop herself from censoring the language Angela was using, even if it wasn't really a swear word.

"I'm sorry." Angie felt ashamed, but also kind of good, knowing that someone cared enough about her, to censor the way she spoke.

"It's cool that you've seen it. That French actor in the original was so freaking hot!" Angie added, squealing like a teenager.

She remembered watching the show, years ago. It had been such a great inspiration for her, seeing another young woman do the job that she had always wanted to do. Except, maybe, the assassin part of the job. Everything else had been nothing but pure goals to a young Angela.

"Well, Emily Prentiss is a cool person, you know?" Emily complimented her own self, holding her chin high and feeling good about herself.

Damn it, with Angela around, Emily was able to forget all the troubles on the job and to just strip down to nothing but Emily – not the Unit Chief, not everyone's friend, not the neighbor who would always ring strange delivery guys in, not the wild woman who hated her parking spot down at the garage, but just Emily…whoever the Hell she really was.

And that made her realize that it was okay to not know exactly who she was, as long as she felt exactly like herself, without the pressure to be anyone and anything other than herself.

"Ain't nobody came here to watch you sit on that perfection…come on, now!" Angie urged Emily to stand up, clearly speaking about her butt in that statement of hers.

"Ain't nobody came here…period!" Emily pointed out smartly, looking around, just to confirm that they were, indeed, the only two people at the bar, at this time of the day.

"Shut up and twerk!" Angela commanded.

"Oh my God! Please don't tell me Emily Prentiss doesn't know how to twerk!?" She added, a few seconds later, since Emily had stood immobile, with her back against the nearby wall.

"Are you joking!?" Angela started giggling uncontrollably, making fun of Emily.

"I do know how to do it…" Emily muttered in her defense. "I just…"

"You're just too stiff to do it? Or are you genetically incapable of having some naughty fun, you know, being a Prentiss and all that…" Angie smirked, knowing that she had won this argument, just by mentioning the 'Prentiss' family name.

Emily narrowed her eyes on the girl, right before she started to loosen up a little. Those four cocktails had surely helped her not give a damn. Also, the fact that nobody was watching them was definitely a big plus.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you how much fun Cuba really was. You know, Clara, Mae and I were dancing on the tables of this bar and then we danced with some of the hot, local guys and yeah…it was fun. We had a small twerking competition. I won, I mean, come on, obviously…but Clara was close second!" Angie smirked even wider, now that she had given Emily a reason to be jealous.

Emily and Clara were friends. The Hell if Emily let Clara be better than her, even if it was at twerking, or trying to, anyway.

Without saying a word, Emily let go of all of her inhibitions and ignored Angie's existence for the next few songs, as she danced on her own, feeling the music and, sadly, also feeling the effect of all the alcohol she had consumed.

Angie was beyond tipsy herself, but she knew she wasn't gone to the point where she would be dumb enough to put herself and Emily in trouble with the team, if they really would end up missing the flight.

Earlier on, while placing her second drinks order, Angie had arranged with the bartender that he would call them a taxi and instruct the driver exactly where to drop them off, at the end of their stay at the bar. This way she had some peace of mind, knowing that if they both had a little too much fun – which was the whole point; they would have the certainty to be taken care of.

"Ohhh, daaamn Prentiss. I bet you're thinking of that guy you were so hesitant to tell me more about…but daaamn…I mean…daaamn!" Angie hyped Emily up, watching her dance like it was a competition.

It was weird to see her acting so free, but it was also pretty cool, at the same time. The best part was that she turned that into a yet another inappropriate comment.

"Girl, we're not talking about guys and feelings right now. Please. Move. And thank you!" Emily pushed Angela away with one hand, playfully getting rid of her, which only lasted about two seconds anyway, before Angie found her way back to Emily's side.

"Good! Because I have mixed drinks about feelings!" Angie stated and in her own drunk mind there was absolutely nothing wrong with that statement.

"Me too, girl…" Emily nodded in agreement, not even noticing how Angela had worded it. After the third drink it didn't really matter to her – if it sounded good, it was acceptable.

"Me too!" Emily repeated, reinforcing the power of her words.

"I kind of feel like I really like _you_, though. I mean, Emily Prentiss, of course." Angie said awkwardly, as she tried to slow down her pace, if she didn't want to continue dancing out of rhythm with the current song.

"I kind of really like you, too. I mean, Angela Hunter, of course." Emily mirrored her statement, which was something she had found herself do quite often lately.

In a way they felt like they were on the same page, while everyone else was reading a completely different book. The things they said to each other often did not make sense, but neither of them seemed confused. To the world they might seem like two drunk weirdos, but to each other, at that very moment, they seemed to be the entire world, with Angela curiously eyeing Emily's every move while Emily looked back at her, making sure she was alright after all she had drank so far.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"rmpcmfan" **Yup, chapters started coming out much longer, so it made sense uploading less frequently, as the amount of words per week is the same anyway, or dare I say it's even higher :)!

Well, Angela sure was calm and collected, but she was only consulting. Will things change if she had a gun strapped on and a badge to honor? Would she have bent under the pressure? What if she froze, on the field? Too bad not even an internship at the BAU seems to be in the books, for her. Poor Angie...

About Tara's question: Nope, Doyle is most definitely NOT the person Emily mentioned she had once screwed over. She wouldn't be THIS bummed out, for him. It's someone else. Angie was referring to Monkey, whoever s/he might turn out to be :)! And yes, Monkey has ties with the FBI world. That would be a major storyline later on btw! And JJ was beyond upset when that question reminded her of something that had stayed with her, all those years. Nobody really knows what her first case had been, except for the two other Agents whom she was assigned to work her first BAU case with, after her graduation. And even then - they don't know EVERYTHING that happened that night. Let's just say that JJ is damn good at keeping a secret - just think about how she kept Emily's secret after Doyle "killed" her!

Rossi...oh, Rossi is a hawk! He stalks and he analyzes better than anyone else. He can figure things out, just by looking at the way people interact. This would also play a big role later on. He's VERY fond of Angela, as in a way it feels like he had "mentored" her through his books. She's genuinely interested and whenever she brings up theories and things, it isn't done to show off her memorizing skills, but to help the case. He appreciates her modesty and her wisdom.

As for connecting to people - Angie has so much empathy for people. Emily does too, but she is a bit colder/distant when it comes to non work-related events. However, both are terrified of the thought of letting someone in - Angie because she is used to being "abandoned" and Emily because...well, she's always the one that abandons people and that one specific time she had failed someone years ago is definitely screwing her up and giving her a hard time in life...it's her biggest regret!

**"Ducksdragonfly" **Hiii :)! Lol, I just wrote the name of whatever pie that came to my mind (ok, I admit I Googled a random pie!). I'm sure Angie would have shared her piece with you, though! Emily...not so much, lol! As for the promise - it goes waaaaaayyyyy beyond the BAU! This "internship" mess is about to explode in everyone's face. Would it stop a Prentiss? I don't think so :D !

I'm glad you're enjoying the "mini me" effect in the story. Lots more to come. Angie finds it extremely difficult to connect to people...however, with certain people she just clicks instantly. She knows exactly whom she wants in her life and she would go to Hell and back a thousand times, but she would have that person by her side! My little schemer, Angie :)! Rossi will be an important one through the story (not a main character, but majorly supporting like JJ) as his analytic skills will come handy later on when something unexpected happens. And let's just say that Angela is going to worship his every breath!

"Who one was born" ... you've just cracked open a door that is definitely going to be opened wide, later on in the story. Trust me - you have _**NO IDEA**_ :)! Also, I think you will enjoy the complicity of the story later on, as it is connected to something you told me you used to do (as a job). I just hope I don't come across amateur to you...even though I've read tons of literature and articles on those topics. Clearly not a professional though :)!

Also. I don't have the foggiest clue as to HOW do writers hold back the urge to spoil stuff! Like...I just wanna tell you guys everything! Lol I clearly won't, though! One day you will realize just how teasing my words were and just _how much_ I've HAD to hide from you before truth came out!

**"zhangxinna"** Ok, you are AWESOME and we are most definitely friends! You just made me smile as I'm packing my stuff to change house...it's been hectic lately and it was super nice to read your review! I hope you enjoyed reading this new chapter now - all about the relationship between your favorite duo: "Angela" and "Emily Prentiss". Two troublemakers, just having some fun and not giving a damn, lol! (Keep reading...everything until the end is in reply to YOU!)

I wanted Angie to be super involved, but not right _all_ the time and not super incredibly on point. She wants to learn and grow and the team had to see how she deals with an incomplete profile and how she never dropped the thinking when things seemed doomed.

The Angie/Luke dynamic will continue. Yes he was testing the waters, as he doesn't want to offend the new girl. But she teases him mercilessly and always has a comment to make and she likes it when people tease back, too. Angie is a bit flirty with guys, you will see how she acts with other people too, so it's not like she was this way with LUKE only. It's her attitude. And in Luke she found someone whom she likes to spend some fun time with. Also, I swear you can foresee the future with that suggestion about them hanging out and having a bet maybe...as to who will flirt with the most people at a bar. *wink* Stay tuned :P Btw Angie is 23 and in my story everyone will be slightly younger: Emily will now turn 45 and Luke and Matt are 33. If JJ did the Academy at 23 too, now 15 years later she's 38. I need them to be a bit younger than when the show left off. So even if Angie had interest in Luke as bf material, yes there is still 10 years of difference, but she is incredibly mature for her age, so it wouldn't have been awkward. Btw Luke and Garcia are NOT a thing in my story! Garcia has her Morgan as in the show and now giving her Luke too takes away from the special bond and makes it seem like Garcia just clicks with ANY guy. Luke is given to Angie to hang out with and get close to, instead :P

As for JJ - notice how Angie is always incredibly nice to people? Maybe she has a reason to not like JJ? Maybe she is jealous of her relationship with Emily? Maybe it's not even that she "doesn't like" JJ? Maybe it's a completely different thing than what you expect! Obviously it gets explained later on :)

Hmmm...remember how when the BAU was off for a week before the Hearing, Emily did not leave everyone home, but she assigned them to different other Units to work? It was so humble of her. Also spoke to her integrity. Therefor, who is to say that anyone in this world could make Emily Prentiss do something she doesn't want to? Or specifically: NOT do something that she DOES want to do? (Hint: internships, ehmm!) Just...wait for it. Lol! This woman is _**crazy!**_

Yup Richard is more than smitten. And Emily is more than wild and creative...spontaneous...so who knows what might happen :P


	103. You Are Worth Fighting For

** CHAPTER 103**

_**YOU ARE WORTH FIGHTING FOR**_

"Woah, hello sexy Mamacita…you and your nice shaped butt, oh yes!" Luke licked his lips, seeing a female figure that looked more than appealing.

He only saw her from the back, but she was dressed like a total bad ass and she walked like one, too. The woman was heading to the check in desk at the airport and he saw her freshly blown out hair sway left and right as she struts her way to the desk.

It wasn't until he saw the younger girl, walking next to her, that he realized his mistake.

"Dude, you did _not_ just cat-call Prentiss!" JJ laughed, sure that she'd be bribing him until the day either he or she died. This was too good to be true.

"Shit…" Luke gulped, watching this woman slowly turn around and confirm his worst nightmare – it really _was_ Emily.

In his mind all he wanted was to feel like a player once again, to check out some lady and to make a dumb ass comment about whichever part of her body. That surely backfired in this very instance.

"I can't wait to tell her about that!" Reid smirked at him, already taking a step forward to where Emily and Angela were, now weirdly laughing about something.

"Woah, man. Nobody is telling her that. Ain't my fault she decided to come back, looking like a snack…" Luke shrugged, feeling so uncomfortable, now that the eyes of all of his colleagues were set on him.

"You're making it worse. Please, stop talking." Matt, as his only true friend, decided to take his side, while everyone else was already whispering.

"What's up with Prentiss? That hair…wow!" Rossi eyed his boss up and down, with a much more innocent appreciation of this woman's newly found glow.

"And the girls are out to play…" JJ could not help but notice that the V-neck laid a little lower than what SSA Emily Prentiss would usually allow herself to wear. The dress was new. The shoes were new. The hair was new. That smile on her face - it was new too.

"Wait, woaaaah!" JJ kept on noticing more changes.

"Are those…nails?" She gasped. "On Prentiss? Are you kidding me?"

Everyone laughed. They knew that Emily never cared about her nails looking good. Each time JJ and the girls had tried to convince Emily to get gel extensions, she had shut them down, saying it would be useless to waste money as she'd bite them back into their horrible state, right away.

"Heyy'yall!" Emily greeted them as soon as she and Angela were done checking in for the flight and they walked, or rather – wobbled their way to their colleagues.

"Ohh, yup…" JJ winced, feeling Emily's vodka breath a little too close.

"Yup, this place has corrupted Prentiss." JJ added.

She loved New York, but she had always felt like if she had to ever live there, she'd go insane after the first couple of months. Apparently, her boss had started doing crazy things after just a few days in the City.

"Not _this place_…" Emily argued. "_Her_!" She added, pointing an accusing finger at Angela.

"Ha, seriously? You want us to believe this innocent-looking Angel-face baby-doll has forced you to go…well, 'Bad Ass Prentiss'?" Luke suppressed a smirk as he spoke, using air quotes.

Angela gave them her best tiny smile. She could fool people for days. Months even. Sweet little innocent Angela…

"What? _Her_? Innocent?" Emily started laughing, because as intoxicated as she was, she did not care how weird that looked.

"Some profilers you guys are…" She added to her statement, rolling her eyes.

One and a half eye-roll. And a dramatic sigh. Rossi did not fail to catch that detail, yet one more time.

"It is time to board the plane and go home." Rossi said, checking his watch.

"Wheeeeels uuuuuuup!" Emily dragged out her words, making plane gestures with one hand while clutching onto her handbag with the other.

Everyone tried hard not to laugh at the irony of their Unit Chief, rolling up to the airport, drunk beyond belief, before the sun would even fall.

Emily, JJ and Tara started walking first. Behind them, there was Reid, with a map in one hand, and then behind him Matt was teasing the crap out of Luke. Rossi stayed back, making sure he'd be the last in line, so he'd keep an eye on Emily and on the entire team, now that Emily was a bit less capable of doing so, herself.

"Ready to go home, Angela Hunter?" Emily whispered, once she saw everyone else was walking further away from where she and Angela stood, trying their best to look normal.

"With you?" Angie asked for reassurance.

In her mind, there was no place she could call 'home'. However, the thought of going somewhere with this Prentiss woman and calling that place 'home' sounded somewhat nice, to her. But only if Emily was right there, next to her. She needed to hear it one more time, she needed reassurance, once…twice…all the time. And Emily was well aware of that.

"With me!" Emily stated. "With all of us!" She added, because it wasn't just Emily who wanted Angela around. It was the whole team whose hearts this girl had managed to touch.

Rossi sighed, realizing that Angela - sweet little innocent BabyDoll face Angela, was hammered, as well. She was doing a better job at concealing it than Emily, but then again, she already acted drunk on a daily basis, even if she was sober, so it was now hard to tell the difference.

They walked over to the Lounge and, crossing it without stopping, and got sent off to the plane right away.

"Window seat!" Angie said, pushing JJ out of her way, as she ran to where there were only two seats, facing each other, both by the window. It was secluded and private, in the back of the plane. No wonder Angela chose that spot.

Little that she knew, JJ loved her window seat a bit too much. She had once tackled Luke to the floor, when he had tried to take her favorite seat away from her.

And yet, she couldn't find it in her, to go snatch that window seat from Angela.

Emily made her way to the seat, opposite Angela's, as if she belonged there, right in front of that girl – now and always.

Everyone else just sat wherever they could get to as quickly as possible, impatient to go back home.

Angie, for the first time, felt impatient to go back home, too.

She felt happy to even _have_ a place to want to call 'home' again.

* * *

"This is good, JJ…" Rossi muttered after half an hour in the air. Thirty minutes, in which JJ had not taken her eyes off of Emily, who was now talking with Angela and laughing about God-know-what dumb thing.

"She's sad…" JJ pointed out.

Emily had been acting different ever since Angela had come around and she looked genuinely happy, but then deep down inside there was a certain sadness that only the people who _really_ knew her, knew how to detect.

Rossi was not dumb. He saw the same sadness behind Emily's eyes, behind her smile. And yet, it was progress, he knew Emily needed this. After years of holding her emotions hostage, she needed to let it all out, in whatever way she wanted – be it a drunken ramble, be it a written note. Emily needed to confess her feelings, to say certain things out loud.

"Let it all play out, JJ. Let her feel those emotions. Let her figure it all out." Rossi continued.

"But she's all alone in this…"

"No, JJ…" Rossi smiled, his eyes now darting off to Angela, whose face was bright, smiling and somewhat just as sad as Emily's.

"She's not." Those were his last words to JJ before he fastened his belt and tried not to think of how the plane just wobbled in the air.

* * *

"Any news on your Wild Cards?" Ben asked Dan at lunch time, that same day.

They were taking their usual coffee break after lunch, at their favorite Quantico coffee shop. It was a break during which Dan knew he'd be grilled with questions, by his Superior.

Dan sighed. Both Angela and Bryan were off, traveling with a different Unit, working on a case for the past few days. Bryan had just gotten back, but he had managed to miss one of the two obligatory classes that week.

The Trainees had been given the chance to work, as real Agents, given they'd sit both obligatory classes, and as many optional classes as they could go to, during Big-Little Week.

Angela had missed every single class and she could not be any happier about it.

"I have a feeling you're about to punish them…" Ben smirked when Dan failed to give him a quick answer.

"No, I'm not going to punish them. I've received Bryan's feedback and he was brilliant, on the job. Who cares if he missed class? I personally signed their permissions to leave the Academy, for as long as their host Unit needed them." Dan said before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Then what is bothering you?" Ben motioned for Dan to sit down.

They had gone out for their afternoon coffee, much like Ben sometimes did with Emily Prentiss. He liked to stay close to the people he worked with, regardless if he was their Superior or not

"Ben, I know the feedback the BAU is going to give me, on Angela…" Dan started off.

Ben was a smart man, he knew exactly what Dan's endgame was. But he's still let him sweat and beg for it.

"And I know it's going to be exceptional. Just like her. Man, I'm telling you, this girl belongs here. More so, she belongs with _them_…" Dan looked away for a second.

He had been the Academy Mentor for years. He had seen rough potential, he had seen people lose their shit and go home, cracking under the pressure of everything they had to endure. He had seen people come out of their shell and blossom into amazing Agents. He had only ever _watched_ it all happen before his eyes, like a movie. He had never _acted_ on it. Never, not even once, had he ever stood up for someone. That was what made him a good Mentor, a fair one. He watched from the sidelines, judging and evaluating each Trainee. But he never offered a helping hand to someone, if he wasn't willing to give the same offer, the same helping hand, to anyone else in the class. 'No special treatment' – this was his motto.

"Bryan is good enough to get into the division he wants. He's also smart enough to not limit his options." Ben spoke, even though _Bryan_ was not who Dan was talking about.

"But Angela does not _have_ any options. Okay yes, she is stubborn, I give you that. But is it really an option, if the one thing you've worked so hard for, is not even an option?" Dan's words would be confusing to a random person, but Ben knew exactly what Dan was talking about.

"Well, I can't do anything about her options, if the _only_ Unit she put on her Internship and future Job Placement papers is not accepting candidates for either of those positions." Ben came out and said it.

"Wait. What papers? They're supposed to start filling those in two, maybe three weeks from now." Dan was surprised. Maybe Ben was just not explaining himself well.

"Dan, she handed those papers, along with her application form for the FBI Academy, _months_ ago. Her choice has been made. She had the liberty of only listing multiple fields of interest and Divisions, but she listed one single thing – three letters, that's all. It is now up to the Bureau to decide where she'd fit in, based on our vacancies and our needs. And, unfortunately for her, what she wants is not an option at all." Ben was aware of the fact that this was somewhat classified information, but since Dan wanted to discuss it, he figured it wouldn't hurt anyone if some truth about this girl finally came out.

"But she really deserves it, Ben. She deserves to at least have a shot at that Unit. She belongs there. Come on, man, at least give her the decency of opening a spot, during assignments. She needs to believe she has a shot at this. And then let it up to the Unit to decide whether they want her or not." Dan's voice was usually stern and loud, but at that very moment, he was quiet, pleading even.

"I know they _do_ want her already." Ben stated.

"Then what's the problem? You'll be placing an amazing Trainee into an amazing Unit, with amazing people who _want_ her! It's a win-win!" Dan continued to put his pride aside, as he bargained for Angela's future.

"Hmm, well Agent Prentiss has never wanted to participate in Big-Little Week before…" Ben said, as if realization had _just_ hit him.

Up to this point, their conversations had been vague. None of them mentioned the Unit name, nor the Agents' names, as they spoke about Angela's future. And there he was, Ben dropping the name that could change Angela's life forever.

"And she gladly took part in it, this year. All because of this girl." Ben continued his thought.

"And you, my friend, have never stood up for a Trainee before…and yet, here you are." Ben's words and that slow motion in which he pronounced them, made Dan almost pass out with anticipation.

Was he, finally, getting through to his Superior?

"Unfortunately, it does not depend on me. The BAU has made its choice, loud and clear. I am your Superior, but it is up to _my_ Superior to authorize a request, like yours. And he would not do so." Ben then shot Dan's hopes down, leaving him upset and confused.

"Ugh…" Dan groaned in annoyance.

Suddenly his coffee tasted much more sour. Or was that taste due to the words he had just heard?

"I'm really sorry. I have to be the bad guy here. I know she's working extremely hard for this, but not getting her first choice does not mean that she won't fit in somewhere else and be one of the best Agents we've ever recruited." Ben tried to soften the blow, but Dan simply stood up and put his coffee on the bench before he spoke.

"No, Ben. It would simply mean that she had worked her ass off, without getting a damn thing in return. She knows what she wants and if she doesn't get it, she'd be broken. And she won't be staying with the Bureau." Dan left in a hurry, letting his words echo in Ben's mind.

_"She won't be staying with the Bureau…"_

Ben raised an eyebrow. Dan sounded sure of his statement. Had she told him she was willing to leave if she didn't get the Unit of her choice? Was she really only interested in _that_ Unit and nothing else? Was _that_ why she had limited her options? Were they really going to train her, only to lose her right after that?

Was Ben willing to gamble with an amazing future Agent?

* * *

"Nope, that's Karma!" Angie shook her head, laughing at something Emily had just shared, about her past.

"No, but…come on. I really didn't mean to…" Emily was laughing as well, with her feet up on the seat, her hands hugging her knees while trying not to flash anyone with the dress she was wearing.

Angie threw a blanket at Emily, to cover up with.

"How about _your_ most embarrassing moment?" Emily asked curiously.

She had just poured her heart out, sharing something especially good, and she only wished she'd get the same in return.

"Oh, wow. Everything I do is embarrassing. I don't even know where to start…" Angela spoke softly, letting a couple of drunken hiccups interrupt her phrase.

"Well, it won't be with a guy, that's for sure." She chuckled. She was not a man-eater, like Emily Prentiss.

Or, was she?

"Wait, hold up. Yup, it is with a guy…" She remembered. "Well, it's not my _most_ embarrassing moment, but it's one of the many,"

"Oh, this is going to be good!" Emily sunk back into her seat, preparing for helpless giggles.

"Trust me, this is going to be beyond embarrassing." Angie smirked, as nobody yet knew what she was about to share.

"Also, I like how happy and eager you are to hear my mischiefs, Agent Hotness!" Angie added, faking a frown, noticing how interested Emily was in the topic. She had also just called her with the nickname Bryan and her had for Emily and as drunk as she was she didn't even notice it.

"Okay, so this one time…" Angie raised her voice just a tiny little bit, being the dramatic attention seeker that she was.

So far, she had been whispering to Emily, especially since the things they spoke about made absolutely no sense, but in their drunk minds they were awesome topics that needed to be explored.

"Right, so I met this guy and, mind you, he's kind of cute…" Angie chuckled once again and Emily could not help but see a splash of color, appearing on Angie's cheeks.

"I dragged him out, under false pretenses, and before he knew it, he was chained to a wall, blindfolded and looking way out of his element…" Angie kept her voice a bit higher than before, as if she didn't care if anyone else heard that.

Luke was in the middle of a conversation with Matt and Tara, when he overheard the beginning of Angela's story. He tensed up immediately, praying to the Lord that he would not have been the only guy she had ever chained and blindfolded, as weird as that prayer sounded.

"He freaked out to the point where he requested a damn code word…" Angie almost choked on her words. She was slurring a little bit, as she spoke and giggled, finding her story to be absolutely hilarious.

"Oh, gotta love it when they chicken out like that." Emily smirked. "Some guys just don't know how to let lose and have some naughty fun. I mean, just shut up and bend over, right?" She came out and said the words, against her better judgment.

Emily loved alcohol. She wasn't abusing it on a regular basis, but every now and then she'd drink a glass too much and she'd enjoy not giving a damn about what she said, who she said it to, how she acted, whether she was sitting down properly or whether she was simply not acting properly in public. She would be free to be herself and being with Angela already gave her the sense of this kind of freedom, but being with Angela _drunk_, made everything this much more exciting for Emily.

"Speaking from experience, Agent Hotness?" Angie teased.

"Hey, what do you think a Sin-To-Win weekend really is? Come on…" Emily had once been asked, by Morgan, about that thing. She had laughed and brushed his question off. She had then lived her life in denial about it, in complete silence until that very moment.

Morgan was extremely close to Emily, but somehow this new girl Angela now had the power of making Emily share all those private things with her, just with a smile, while Morgan hadn't managed to make Emily talk about these things, no matter what he had tried to bribe her with.

"I didn't think _'too much information'_ was a thing, until two seconds ago. Eww…" Angie cringed before continuing her story.

"Okay, so when I took his blindfold off, he realized we were in an escape room and I just wanted to have some innocent nerdy fun." She didn't feel like saying more about it, so she ended the tale quickly.

"No way! Talk about a tease. Ugh! I wish I could have seen this idiot's face when it hit him. _Ha, you wanted some of that, didn't you?_" She directed her last question to the imaginary, unnamed man that Angela was talking about.

Little that she knew, that man was sitting right behind her, with a sucked in breath, face pale as a canvass, now praying that Angela would not drop his name, in a random drunken downpour of information.

"I know, right? So lame!" Angela could not stop laughing.

She had bent the rules. Emily had actually told her about a situation where _she_ had been embarrassed, but Angie only spoke about embarrassing someone else. Even drunk out of her mind, Emily caught on that, but she did not dare challenge Angela. With that girl, there were certain boundaries that Emily was just finding out about and she was not willing to cross them.

"Alright now, what's the weirdest thing you've ever done, to get something for free?" Emily asked another question, eager to know more about Angela.

Luke let out a content sigh, feeling like Emily's topic change meant that he was now off the hot seat, at least for the moment being. Somehow he knew that with Angela around, nothing was safe for him anymore. It felt like this girl was out there to get him and she'd tease the crap out of him, at any given time. He both liked and despised that fact, but he could not deny he was intrigued to find out more about the Tease Master, as he liked to refer to her in his mind. And then he realized he'd been thinking about her quite a lot, for the past few days. She was kind of hard to forget and impossible to ignore – she was everywhere, ranting like Garcia, smart like Reid, opinionated like Prentiss, mercilessly teasing like Luke himself. It was only natural he'd find her interesting, everyone else did, too.

"Barely weird, keeping in mind it's _me_ we're talking about…" Angie rolled her eyes in reply to Emily's new question. Nothing about her was normal. "But I once did a hand stand on top of an ice-cream truck, just to get people to notice the truck and go buy ice-cream there. The guy who worked there gave me a huge cone of all the flavors he was selling, as a thank you for all the new clients I got him while acting like a monkey."

"Monkey…" Emily whispered, thinking about that word.

It sounded funny and somewhat way out of context and yet for whatever reason it caught her attention.

"What's the most romantic thing someone has ever done for you?" Angie instantly jumped to another question, wanting to avoid any further association with the word 'monkey'.

"Nothing." Emily smiled.

"Come ooooon!" Angie whined, finding it hard to believe that no one had ever done anything romantic for this woman.

"No, that's my answer. He did absolutely nothing." Emily smiled, thinking of what Richard had done for her.

She could not put it into words. All they did was walk around, eat and then walk around some more. This was not a thing, it was not an action that she could describe. It really was literally _nothing_, but it was the most romantic 'nothing' she had ever experienced.

"Oh, I get it. He liked it when _you_ did all the things, all those naughty things to him and-…mhhh." As soon as Emily sensed what Angela was about to say, she jumped up from her seat and put her hand on Angie's mouth, forcing her to shut up until she could only let out a muffled groan.

* * *

"Please tell me she's not discussing her sex life with a complete stranger?" Tara whispered to JJ at some point during the flight.

Apparently, both Angie and Emily had no idea just how loudly they spoke, when drunk. What they believed to be a private conversation, was being easily overheard by just about everyone on the plane, except for the pilot.

"Uh-huh…" JJ clenched her jaw.

"Oh, my God. If you could only see just how jealous you look right about now…" Tara nudged her.

She had sensed that JJ was dropping hints about Emily's sudden interest in this new girl, throughout this whole trip. And it didn't help that Angela had ignored JJ the entire time, so it was quite easy for JJ now to dislike her, on a subconscious level. It was childish, but she couldn't help it.

"Shut up, Lewis!" JJ hissed at her, grabbing a blanket and pretending to be interested in a quick nap.

What she was really interested in was who the Hell this Angela Hunter girl was and why the Hell did it seem like she was taking Emily away from her.

* * *

"Please, fasten your seatbelts as we prepare for landing." The pilot said on the loudspeaker and Angie frowned.

"Oh, no. I'm going to miss this sweet private jet, oh-so-much, even if it smells like freaking Cheetos!" She stated, looking around and trying to remember as many details as possible, while blocking out the smell that came from JJ's seat, as she was now opening a second mini pack of her favorite snack.

"Drinks, anyone?" Emily stood up and wobbled to the mini bar, just as everyone was securing their seat belts.

She grabbed the whiskey and made her way back, pouring some for each team member.

"To another case, successfully closed." Emily suggested, raising her glass.

"Hey, what about me!?" Angie crossed her hands in front of her chest and the innocent, almost childlike way she begged for appreciation, made everyone laugh.

"I was getting there…" Emily said calmly, shooting this impatient young thing a glance.

"And to Trainee Angela Hunter – the best damn future profiler I have ever seen!" Emily raised her glass and everyone cheered for Angela.

Everyone, but a very grumpy JJ and a now very worried Rossi.

He was glad that Emily made a toast to this girl, but her words gave Angela hope for something that she was surely not going to get, in the future – a chance. With them. A chance at what she did best.

Rossi shook his head, silently judging Emily's poor choice of words, as he clinked glasses with the others.

"Thank you for being such a great sport." Tara smiled at Angie.

She had teased the girl on so many occasions for the past couple of days and not even once had Angie taken offence. She was actually quite good at taking the piss out of herself and letting others do the same, too.

"Yeah, you really know how to light up a room." Matt added.

After being the responsible dad of four kids, he could honestly say that it was a relief to have someone as fun and energetic, light and easy to talk to, as Angela.

"The turn up is reaaallllll!" Angie swirled the bourbon in her glass and she bust a move in her chair before she noticed how Emily was giving her a sign to act calm, as if she didn't want them to be busted about being drunk.

Little that she knew, they had been busted a long ago. Everything about them screamed intoxication – from those naughty few strands of hair that were sticking up from Emily's head and just wouldn't stay slicked back, to Angela's unusually loud giggles, to both of their alcohol breaths and the fact that Emily Prentiss had once again mentioned her Sin-To-Win weekends, inside the jet.

"Thank you for being an exception from today's youth." Reid said a bit nerdily, adding to the appreciation that everyone had started to share.

"You know, being smart and wanting to learn, to grow. You seem like a great girl. I'm really sad that I won't be seeing you on this team anymore." Reid elaborated on it and then also let something slip. Something that made Angie frown.

She wouldn't be involved with the team anymore. It was Saturday now and the week was almost over. Monday morning she'd turn back into a pumpkin, dressed in khaki pants and a baby blue polo shirt, like everyone else in the Academy.

Emily was still on her feet and she knew she'd better take a seat, too. She walked over to her seat from earlier, but did not occupy it before letting her hand brush against Angie's first. This time, Angie did not shriek away. She looked up and when her eyes met with Emily's – she smiled, with sorrow in her eyes. Both knew what the source of that sorrow was.

_"__You are worth fighting for__…"_ Looking at Angela, Emily whispered to herself the words that she had told her just recently.

With sorrow in her own eyes, she let her body relax during the landing, which was less than smooth.

Nothing seemed to go smoothly for Emily anymore.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"Guest"** Hello :) Thank you for leavig a review, very sweet of you. I love hearing my readers' theories and yours is spectacular! How do you feel about it AFTER reading the chapter? Angela having anything to do with Ambassador Prentiss would surely explain her weird obsession with Emily. It might also all be under false pretenses, maybe? What if Angela secretly despises Emily, but has to act the opposite way, for whatever reason? What if the Ambassador has something to do with this whole thing? Clearly, I'm just speculating and I'm NOT confirming or denying your suspicions. No spoilers :P! Just rambling here, hehe. I may be just trying to confuse you :D Have a beautiful day!

**"rmpcmfan" **Thanks, I wanted to make it sweet and fun, but also very intense during selected scenes. I like playing with the emotion range and mood swings of my characters (I also like to torture them, lol!). Emily definitely has a lot of regrets in life, but not having a child - specifically a **DAUGHTER**, is her biggest. She definitely sees in Angela something she could have had in the past...and Angela sees in Emily someone she wished she could have had all along. Also LOL about the fringe! Angela just came out and said it, so Ems had to get rid of it hahaha! I love me an updated, rejuvenated, happy, sexier new version of Em! Moreso, drunk! She isn't afraid to show her TRUE self to Angela and the girl appreciates it, already knowing how extremely hard it is for Emily to connect to someone, to open up and to let them in...to trust them! LOL _someone_ from the team had something to say about Em's new look hahahaha! Also - Emily sure does look and sound like she is NEVER going to let go of this young girl!


	104. Serre-Moi

** CHAPTER 104**

_**SERRE-MOI**_

"Emily, this better be worth waking up at seven, on a Sunday. My only day off for the past two weeks, at that." A very grumpy, sleepy man said, gladly reaching his hand out to grab the coffee that he was just being served.

"I want to check out on that favor you owe me…" Emily shot out her request right away.

She seemed more than awake. He figured this wouldn't happen to be her first coffee.

"I owe you something huge." He reminded her. "And I'm willing to do good on my promise, but…"

"Not 'buts" and no "ifs"!" She looked him straight in the eyes, with determination oozing from her own.

"Are you sure you want to check out on something so small?" He continued his thought anyway.

She hadn't even uttered her request, but he already knew what that might be.

"Yes. Absolutely and 100 % sure!" It didn't even take her a second to think about it. Once again, she just shot it out, like she had been thinking about it already and like there was no space left for doubt. This was what she wanted and there was no changing her mind.

"But, Emily…this is not the kind of a favor you need to be asking of me. You are Unit Chief. Your Unit is all kinds of screwed up right now. Excuse me, but I find your request a bit ridiculous. Rushed, even."

"No. I know what I want and what I want is for you to help me out with this." She shook her head, because in no alternate universe was she ever going to drop it.

"Can we talk about this in a few days? You know, give yourself some time to _really_ think this through…"

"No. I don't need days. I've had years. And my decision, my request, is not going to change." She said firmly.

"But-…"

"No 'buts'!" She cut him off once again. "You didn't even ask what the favor is."

"I didn't need to. I already know."

"So, is that a _yes_?" She forced a hopeful smile.

"I'm not a magician, Emily. I can't snap my fingers and grant your wishes."

"Neither was I, but I saved your ass out there, didn't I? And, mind you, I risked my own damn life in the process…"

"Oh, that's a low blow and you know it." He winced, thinking of that one night, many years ago, when a very eager Agent had thrown herself in the line of fire, just to drag him out of a place where he'd only ever been able to escape from in a body bag.

"Yes. And I'm desperate here. Please don't make me turn into an asshole who would bribe you until you give me what I want. I'm not that person. Anymore…"

"Emily, you've never been that person." He tried not to smile. He was known as a serious man, with a stern look, one that could make anyone's blood freeze over.

"Yes, I have. And, in a way, I'm always going to be. But that's okay. I've accepted that. I can live with that." Her lips formed a straight line as she spoke.

Some traits of her character were a bit too much for her to accept and handle, but she had no other choice. This was her life – the life of an ex undercover Agent, between one name and the other, with all the lying, pretending and scheming, all the impossible and borderline illegal things she has ever had to do, in order to stay alive, to finish the job.

Emily now liked to live her life, blocking those memories out. She liked to convince herself that she didn't know a Lauren, a Catherine, A Roxanne, a Jessica and a whole bunch of other names, but the harsh reality was that she did, indeed, know them. She had _been_ them. In a way, the things those women did in the past were always going to be part of Emily Prentiss. Naively, she just didn't like to think about that. Living in sweet denial was much better than living with regret and having to deal with the psychological traumas of her past.

Unfortunately, lately she has had to face some past feelings, to suck it up and to be someone else. She invented a new person – another Emily, who was fun, energetic, full of life, spontaneous…and she lived her life now, pretending like this was her new reality.

Little did she know, this new and improved Emily person was not a character – it was rather part of her own character. It was part of who she _really_ was. It wasn't a game and it wasn't a job. It was her – Emily Prentiss, the vulnerable, human side of her she just didn't know that yet.

"You are one incredibly stubborn woman, you know that, right?" He finally gave up and let out a tiny laugh.

They were both in plain clothes, sitting in a diner, outside the FBI property, on a Sunday. They were two civilians. They were friends. He could allow himself a smile or two.

"Yes, I do. Now, back to my request…" She hurried to bring back the topic that interested her.

"This is official government business you're asking me to mess with."

"Yeah. You're an official government employee. And so am I." She had a whole speech ready for him, in case he'd want her to elaborate on that. "So, I don't see why other people cannot be given the same courtesy…the courtesy of holding that title, too?"

"Other people can and _will_ be given the opportunities they deserve." He sighed, knowing his argument was strong, but not strong enough to fool Emily Prentiss.

"Perfect. Now, how about being given the opportunities they _want_?"

"You realize those papers are locked up in storage, right?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"And you know I must have a damn solid reason to go fetch them from there…"

"Mhm."

"There is also the whole thing where it is not _my_ signature I'd have to put on them, if I changed them…"

"Correct."

"So, what exactly is it that you think I can do for you?"

"Change someone's life. Easy as that." Emily stated calmly.

"And how are you going to meet your budget?"

To that, Emily shrugged. She had all the emotional details of her speech just ready to be poured out to this man, but she had never thought the whole budget situation out.

"See? It's not as easy as just signing a paper."

"Why?" Emily would be damned if she backed up.

"Because even if I did everything you're asking me to do, it has to be _his_ signature, to make it official."

"Then go ask him." She looked and sounded like a teenager, so naïve to think that it would be easy.

"I can't just enter his office and ask him to sign a paper that would change, well, _everything_…"

"It wouldn't change a damn thing for anyone else, but my team. And my team is okay with the change I am suggesting. So, go ask him." Emily folded her hands in front of her chest and gave him a more stern look now.

"He's never going to approve of this."

"Then ask nicely!" She raised an eyebrow at him and, at this point, he knew he was screwed.

"Emily…you're asking a favor, not from me, but from the Director of the FBI. You do realize the severity of this situation, don't you?"

"Yes!" To each question of his, she replied quickly, sure of her answers.

"Again – it's not _me_ you need this favor from!" He said slowly, making sure Emily would hear and receive those words.

"Fine. Then I need you to fix me an appointment with the Director!" She had balls to come out and say it. Nobody ever managed to just sit with that man, if it wasn't for a very pressing issue.

"I'm his assistant, not his secretary." He stated, taking offense.

"Fine, then tell his secretary to get me an appointment. Preferably _before_ the Academy is over." She rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"He's all booked up for the next month or so."

"How would you know? Thought you weren't his secretary?" She challenged.

"Please stop being smart with me." He winced.

"No, I won't!" She felt good. It felt so damn good to be able to stand up for what she believed, especially to a man of his status.

"I'm saying this as your friend…" He trailed off for a second, taking a long sip of coffee, just to give himself time to word it out properly. "This can blow up in your face."

"Fine. Let it. I can take the heat!" Through the whole conversation, Emily's eyes did not blink. Not even once. Her gaze pierced through him and she spoke with confidence. He admired that about her.

They were going round in circles all the time, but with each argument of his, Emily found a new way to twist the story and get back to what she wanted. And it was painfully obvious she would stop at absolutely nothing, in order to get it. Nothing! Nothing at all. Not even bribing the Assistant Director of the FBI, not even a low blow, not even cashing out on an old favor. Nothing. Emily Prentiss would stop at nothing. She didn't want too many things in life, but when she wanted something, all Hell would break lose before she'd drop it. She'd keep going and she'd give it her all, and more, until her wish would be granted.

"I'm going to ask you one more time-…" He started, but she wasn't in the mood for any further questioning.

"Yes, Ben! This is what I want and this is the favor I want to check out, with you. I am sure of it and never in my life would there be another moment in which I'd ask anything else of you, ever again. Do this for me and we're even. You're done with me, for good."

"No, that's not what I meant, Emily…" He pouted after hearing her words. It sounded like she thought he was feeling obliged to help her out. Like she was a burden to him. Like he couldn't wait to be even, so that she wouldn't hold anything against him anymore.

"I don't care what you meant." Emily sighed.

She was exhausted, tired of hearing 'no'. What was the big deal? All it took was digging up some dusty document and having the most powerful man at the Bureau change…basically everything it said. It was as simple as that, in Emily Prentiss' mind.

"Hey, come on now. We don't have to ruin our friendship over this. Can't you accept that we have different points of view on this?" He pleaded.

Somehow, he had grown to really like her, over the years. He had never felt like he owed her anything. If he ever did anything for her, he'd do it out of the goodness of his heart, not because she had done something for him, in return.

"I'm willing to sacrifice more than just our friendship, in order to get what I want."

"Why is this so important to you?" He checked her behavior. She was now a bit more impatient, a little more emotional.

"It just is, okay?" Her eyes blinked and it was the first sign of weakness she showed.

Yet, it wasn't weakness. It was hope, mixed with a certain doze of desperation.

Emily knew that he was the only man in the world she could count on, for this. And she knew that if he said No, that was it, for her. For them. For the BAU. For _her_…

"I have to take my daughter to the bus station. She's leaving on a journey, with her classmates." He stated after checking what time it was.

"Great. One lucky girl, having someone to back her up and send her off to the journey of her life…"

Oh, Emily's words hit him like a ton of bricks. She knew exactly how to twist someone's words and then throw them right to their heart, paired with a set of daggers.

"Emily…" He started off once again, unsure how he'd finish that phrase.

The metaphor wasn't lost on him.

"Please…" She cut him off, for the last time.

This time her voice was soft, silent, weak.

Her eyes answered the question that he previously wanted to ask her – why was this so important to her. This was personal, he could tell. It wasn't just a spur of the moment kind of a request. It was big, for her.

Ben saw her fiddle with the ring on her finger and her eyes finally darted away and set on the now empty coffee cup in front of her.

The Great Emily Prentiss was vulnerable – that was not something he ever thought he'd witness. She had always been strong, even through her weakness. He had seen her hold back tears, on the field, he'd seen her swallow her own blood, so she wouldn't spit it out and let everyone know that her jaw was now basically dislocated. He'd seen her get shot and drag her foot, ignoring the blood dripping down from it, all while dragging his nearly lifeless body out of a bunker where he would have died in minutes, had she not come back for him when no one else on their assigned team even acknowledged that possibility. He'd seen her bite her lips and block the pain out, not even wincing when things got rough. He'd seen her work her ass off, to get into the BAU and she'd done it with the same kind of passion and determination that she was showing him now, at seven and a quarter, on a Sunday morning, at a roadside Diner, asking him for the impossible.

And yet, through all the years he had known her, he had never seen, or heard of, _The_ Emily Prentiss – vulnerable, asking for a favor that would change multiple people's lives. He'd never seen her eyes shy away during a conversation. Hell, this woman had the most iconic bitch stare during negotiations and he'd often wonder if she was even real. She'd stare down criminals, she'd look them dead in the eyes, with a revolver pressed against her temple, and she'd have the audacity to challenge them, to antagonize them. But never in his whole life had Ben ever imagined he'd one day see _The_ Emily Prentiss ask for something, beg even, with that childlike hope in her eyes, with that voice that cracked a little bit, with that intonation of a bad bitch, but at the same time – the tone of someone whose life depended on getting what they wanted.

He stood up and, on his way to the door, he pat her shoulder twice. He did not say another word and he did not have to. That double pat was more than enough. It was code for _"I got your back"_, out there on the field. Both of them knew it and to Emily this gesture said more than she could have bargained for.

* * *

"Good morning!" Angie walked in Emily's office an hour after she had finished talking to Ben.

"Good morning, dear." Emily eyed her up and down.

The girl was panting, as if she had just come from a long run, but she looked awfully put together, in her black pants and Bordeaux smart shirt.

Emily then remembered something and, looking down at her own clothing, she chuckled.

"Oopsie, accidental twinning." Angela laughed, noticing how Emily was wearing basically the same thing – black pants and Bordeaux shirt, a little darker than Angie's shade.

"I'm not mad about it." Emily smiled and motioned with her hand for Angie to take a seat at the other side of her office desk.

"Cool office…" Angie did not sit.

Instead, she let her eyes linger for the longest moment.

Right behind Emily's back, there were a few framed photos. One was of the whole team, as they were now, one was of her with JJ, Morgan and Rossi, whom she considered her closest people and then there was another frame…

Emily shifted uncomfortably when she noticed Angie's eyes inspecting _that_ photo.

"Paris is a huge part of my life…" Emily muttered before Angela would even get the chance to ask about it.

It was weird, two out of three frames contained photos of people and the third one had a commercially available stock photo of a city, situated at the other side of the globe and yet _that_ was what caught Angela's attention.

"It's nice to see you hold on to the memories. A lot of people disregard the things that once made them happy…" Angie walked over and let her finger trail along the frame, which sent shivers down her spine.

"It feels like a different lifetime ago. But I never forgot my time there, the people I was with…the people I lost…" Emily cleared her throat, feeling like a huge lump had formed, preventing her from speaking.

Angie looked away from the frame, only to set her eyes on Emily now.

"What brings you here on a Sunday? It's our day off." Emily continued speaking, because if she did not, then her heart would burst inside her chest.

"You mentioned you had paper work to do today, you know, after the case." Angie weirdly recalled something that Emily had said at the bar, when both of them were on their fifth drink.

"And since this is my week to follow you, I figured…I should, you know, follow you." She added awkwardly, trying not to show just how much she was enjoying her time with Emily.

"Well then, let's get started." Emily smiled and pushed a few papers to the other side of her desk, figuring Angela would sit opposite her.

Wrong.

Angie dragged the chair to Emily's side, intentionally sitting right next to Emily.

Somehow, that made Emily smile. The girl who seemed to be freaked out by human contact, was now going out of her way, just to be closer to her.

"Okay, first thing…how are you with the legal side of the job?" Emily asked, since these papers had to be threaded very carefully.

"Oh, God…" Angie chuckled. "You got me. I suck at it. I've never been a fan of the law."

"Alright. Let's never admit that out loud again, okay?" Emily laughed, nudging Angela and hoping nobody would ever overhear her say something like that.

"Now, these here are the reports. See, this is Rossi's…" She gave Angie a paper that she had just printed out. The team had started working on their reports on the plane and most of them had already finished and e-mailed it to Emily by the morning, even if it was their day off.

"He's always very objective. You can learn a lot from the way he writes about a case. You'll see, with time you'll learn to individualize each team member's signature writing style. It's fun, actually." Emily continued.

"What time?" Angie challenged.

Emily then sighed, realizing that she was so far into her fantasy world that she had let herself forget that this - _that day_, was the last day she'd have Angela by her side, or anywhere near the BAU office.

"This must be JJ's." Angie quickly went back to analyzing the reports, before Emily would have another meltdown. God knows she has had enough, in front of her.

"Yes, that is correct. She always keeps it formal, giving only the indispensable information and keeping it short and to the point." Emily added.

"Guess years as a media liaison would do that to someone…" Angie shrugged. "She's quite pauciloquent."

"How did you know she started off as liaison?" Emily raised an eyebrow. "And what the Hell is paicilo-…what did you just say?" She added in confusion, not even remembering half of the word that Angela had used.

"You people let more information out than what you realize." Angie said calmly, pretending like she had just overheard it, randomly.

"Pauciloquent. That's a person of few words, someone who doesn't say much or who, when giving a speech, gives a very short one." Angie explained.

"The antonym would be _bloviate_. That's someone who talks for a long period of time or who would inflate their story to make themselves sound better. It also refers to someone whose words are empty and have no meaning, so there's really no good connotation to that word." Angie continued speaking since Emily was now quiet as a mouse.

"Okay, Dr. Reid 2.0." Emily laughed at these random words that she had never heard before in her life.

The first word might have referred to JJ, but the second one sounded a bit more like Angela, without the bad connotation part. When Angela spoke, her stories often sounded exaggerated, she had a way of raising her voice, much like an actress would, in order to point out the good parts of the story, or to simply grab everyone's attention and to make them listen to everything. Some of the things she said seemed quite made-up, but knowing a little more about her now, there was no doubt in Emily's mind that this girl had really once made a handstand on top of an ice-cream truck, or that she had pretended to be a stuck up Royalty figure, only to get into a private party in Monaco. It sounded fake, but Emily could see Angela do all of that, and more. She was a Daredevil, she'd do as she pleased and she'd get what she wanted. Emily admired that about her. She wished she could be more like Angela, especially now – an hour after the talk she had with Ben, begging for what she wanted.

"Oh, speaking of Reid, this must be his!" Angie's eyes glowed as she spoke of him, holding a paper.

"You like him, don't you?" Emily looked at the way Angie was now intently reading every word on that piece of paper.

"Yes. A lot! He's so incredibly smart and he is not ashamed to admit it. I wish more young people were like him."

"Yeah, I wish more young people would stop pretending to be someone they're not and they'd allow themselves to show others what they're really worth…" Emily rephrased Angie's statement, shooting her a glance.

To those words, Angie did not reply. But that quiver of her lower lip showed that she had received them, loud and clear. Once again, _The_ Emily Prentiss…the Queen of Metaphors, had risen.

An hour later, they were done going through everyone's report and Emily moved on.

"Now, this is _my_ final report." She gave Angie a paper, three times longer than any of her other colleague's.

"Wow…"

"Yeah, being Unit Chief comes with a lot of hard work." Emily winked and somehow Angie realized that Emily was doing her job, because she _liked_ it, not because she _had_ to.

"You misspelled idiosyncratic." She pointed out.

Emily went over the whole phrase again, three times, before she looked up at Angela quizzically.

"Don't you spell that with an 'i'? She asked.

"Nope, it's with a 'y', according to the SAT's official standards."

"Uhh, what would I do without you?" Emily was already searching for the file on her computer, so she'd change it and print it again. "And to think I graduated freaking Yale…" She added, rolling her eyes at the fact that a 23 year old girl was giving her Yale diploma a run for its money.

"I dunno. Ask yourself that question tomorrow." Angie's calm answer made Emily shiver.

She disliked being reminded of the end of this week. She was done waiting for special weeks in her life to finish. And, this time, she'd be damned if she let this…all of this, whatever it was; get ruined!

"You have an impressive mastery of English." Emily pointed out.

"I'm American…hello?" Angie chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah, but still…"

"If I had to adumbrate it, I'd blame it all on my upbringing. I was told, from an early age, to be curious about life and everything around me."

"Guess you took that way too literally." Emily laughed.

For this whole week, Angela had not stopped asking questions, both to her and to the rest of the team, curious about anything, no matter if it was important to the job or not.

"Adumbrate – to describe roughly or give the main points or summary of something." Angie winked at Emily, sensing that she might not have understood the meaning of that word either.

"You are just something else, Angela Hunter…" Emily rolled her eyes, this time playfully.

Sometimes she felt like Angela was five, and still asking all the questions in the world.

Other times she felt like she was talking to someone her own age, eloquent, professional and so incredibly driven.

"Keep going and that would be blandishment - flattery intended to persuade." Angie smirked.

"Now you're just showing off, you little nerd!" Emily nudged the girl again and she made her chuckle.

"You know, people switch back and forth between calling me a nerd and a geek, but I don't think they even know the difference."

"Why do I have the feeling you're about to tell me all about it…?" Emily had spent enough time with Reid to know when a geeky downpour was going to happen. And Angela was no different.

"A _nerd_ is someone who is passionate about learning, being smart, academic in general. A _geek_ is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one. A _dork_ is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations and interactions." Angie shot out quickly.

"So, you're most definitely _not_ a dork." Emily laughed so hard.

Clearly, this girl had no problem with her social interactions, just as long as people didn't try to touch her.

"But I'm kind of torn between a nerd and a geek. I mean, I like the sound of geek more, but then again, I don't limit my fields of interest. I want to know more, about everything."

"Okay, how about we just call you a _weirdo_?" Emily kept on laughing.

"Oh, I like that! I've also been called a _freak_, but that was, uh, under very different circumstances…" Angie blushed a little.

"God, no! No! Please, stop talking." Emily put her hands on her ears and shook her head, feeling somewhat uncomfortable to have Angela hint on something so personal and intimate.

Angie smirked and busied herself with the papers once again.

"What's that?" She asked curiously, grabbing the next piece of paper that was in Emily's paper folder.

"That's confidential…" Emily took the paper back and put it away safely.

"Fine." Angie was upset, she hated confidential things that she was being denied access to. As boring as they were, she wanted to see them all.

"What now?" She asked, waiting for their next adventure.

"Now, it's time for the fun part. And by _fun part_, I mean the part that I wish I had a drink in hand for…" Emily rolled her eyes, placing more papers on the table. She hated this part of the job.

"I heard you keep the good Bourbon in the third drawer." Angie smirked, pointing behind Emily.

"Where on Earth did you hear such a thing!?" Emily gasped. She hadn't expected that anyone would ever learn about that little habit of hers.

"People talk, Emily…" Angie played hardball and enjoyed every second of Emily, freaking out.

"Just as long as it was _my_ people who said it…" Emily shrugged.

Everyone at the BAU knew exactly where the good alcohol was – third drawer, central desk in Emily's office and top drawer, left desk in Rossi's office.

"Yup, don't worry." Angie smiled, not wanting to say that it had been Garcia to have blabbed about Emily's alcohol stash, just days ago.

And then again, if a secret got spilled at the BAU, everyone knew it was Garcia's fault.

Emily then read a few things out loud to Angela and showed her which parts of the papers had to be filled in and _how_. She let Angela come up with the text, after she had been watching Emily do so for over an hour, and Angela was kind of good at it. At times she completely lost her train of thought and Emily could tell that the juridical side of the job was clearly not her forte, but she appreciated the hard work the girl was putting into this.

"Fine, now what?" Angie said, two hours and a half after she had first walked in Emily's office that morning.

"Whatever you want." Emily stood up, placing the newly filled in files neatly in their respective folders and preparing for them to be sent to her Superiors on Monday morning.

"Wait, is that it?" Angie frowned.

"Yes, that was it. And please don't make it sound like it's an easy job." Emily laughed, while sticking her wallet in her handbag and grabbing her water bottle from one of her desk drawers.

She noticed Angie's curious eyes as soon as she opened that drawer. Inside, Emily kept her water bottle, her coffee mug, a few coasters and a fork, for all the take away food she had been consuming lately.

"See something you like?" Emily smirked.

Angie was basically drooling over something.

"What? Nope. Just curious…"

"You can have it, if you want…" Emily pointed to the drawer, hoping it wouldn't have been the fork that Angie was after. It was her most prized possession in her office.

"For real?"

"For real!" Emily nodded and watched Angie's hand grab the mug. She had kind of figured it would be what Angela would like the most.

Angie already had her FBI Academy branded water bottle to show off with, but those coffee mugs were not only branded FBI, but had the BAU logo on them, too. Only members of Emily's team had those mugs, with an inscription of their name underneath the logo. So, Angie's new coffee mug now said _Prentiss_.

"Like, really?" Angie felt the need to have one more reassurance, now that she was holding the precious mug in her hands.

"Like, really!" Emily smiled wide and was thankful to her lack of laziness the last time she had drank from that mug. She remembered actually washing it properly before chucking it into the drawer, unlike other times when she'd put it in there with some coffee, still left on the bottom of it.

"Thank you so much, Emily Prentiss!" Angie suppressed the urge to squeal.

She was very expressive, especially when she was happy. And that did not happen too often in her life, so she had never really had the chance to teach herself how to contain her positive emotions. Unlike the negative ones – in which case Angela was perfectly capable of putting on a poker face and keeping up with the game, resting completely neutral, even if on the inside she was fuming.

"You are welcome, Angela Hunter." At that moment, Emily realized one more thing. One thing that she had to get off her chest, but not before she'd initiate the conversation from where it all started…

"So, it's Sunday now. We had seven days to figure something out, remember?" She said softly.

"Mhm…"

"_Mhm_, really?" Emily raised an eyebrow unhappily, just to mess with Angie.

Had Angela not learned her lesson – not to throw Emily's favorite half-assed unemotional reply in her face, when asked a question?

"Have you figured your issue out?" Angie asked, refusing to go first, if this was yet another emotional conversation to be starting.

"I suppose so. I mean, it took me years to get myself in this mess, so it would hardly only take me a week to get it all sorted out. But I feel like I'm coming out of this seven-day cleanse with a much more clear vision in mind." Emily shared.

"That's really good. I'm happy for you." Angie flashed her the most innocent smile, but with Emily, it did not work.

Her attempt to make this all about Emily, had flanked. She didn't need to be asked the question vocally – Emily's eyes were screaming at her, in their own way.

"Fine." Angie sighed, giving up on acting stupid. It never worked with Emily anyway. "I guess I have a more clear idea for my own issue, as well." She replied the question that had remained unasked.

"And, what about those people from your past? Have you figured out if you want them in your future, as well?" Emily asked curiously, almost impatiently, still with the same childlike hopeful face that she had early that morning, when begging Ben for a favor.

"Yes. I mean, I _think_ I have…"

"What's the verdict then?" Emily was on the edge of her seat and Angie could tell.

"It's a very personal matter. No offense, but I'd rather be letting them know, in private. Personally. Without involving others in this whole mess." Angie shrugged, wanting Emily Prentiss nowhere near the drama with her inner daemons.

Emily gulped. The way Angie spoke made it sound like she had something bad to say to the other person and that was not what Emily had hoped the outcome of that week would be. Clearly, Angie was not going to say another word in regards, so Emily had to drop it and to hope and pray that this other person in Angie's life wouldn't be hurt by Angie's decision.

"I understand…" Emily muttered.

But no, she did not understand. She did not _want_ to understand. She also did not want Angela to turn into an Emily Prentiss 2.0, at least as far as_ leaving people hurt_ was concerned.

"Do you have any paper I could use?" Angie now felt an uncontrollable urge to start writing that communication, as soon as she had a moment to herself.

"Yeah, there's blank paper in the printer…" Emily pointed to the machine which was near Angie's seat.

"How about _those_ papers?" Angie pointed at a bunch of white papers, with the BAU stamp and Emily's name and signature on them. They seemed like blank canvass for future formal communications between Emily and someone else.

"Uh, yeah, I guess you could use those…But there's my name on them…" Emily said, confused.

"That's okay. I don't mind them knowing about Emily Prentiss." Angie smiled and, a second later, saw how Emily handed her a whole bunch of branded paper with one hand, while the other one found its way on top of Angie's hand, resting on the desk.

"And I don't mind them knowing about me, either." Emily reassured her, with another genuine smile.

"Speaking of _you_…" Angie trailed off. "I mean, of Emily Prentiss…" She corrected herself, realizing this was her first time she had called Emily – _you_.

"Mhm?" Emily urged her to speak, if not because of curiosity, then because her heart was now beating faster than it had, with Richard. For all the different reasons, of course.

"I think Emily Prentiss is an exceptional person. I've spent a week with her, surrounded by people who worship her and only speak highly of her, both as a friend and as their Boss. And I think she has balls. I'm sure Unit Chief is not where it stops, for Emily Prentiss. She would do amazing things in life. She already has!" Angie suddenly felt her throat was dry.

Emily grabbed a water bottle and handed it to her, waiting patiently for her to take a sip before she continued.

"I guess it's hard to find such amazing people, to be surrounded with. And Emily Prentiss is lucky. I get it now…I get why she had to go through everything. It was worth it. Everything she had ever lost, it was for a good cause. I just hope she would allow herself to be happy, with what she has now, because she deserves it. All of it. All of _them_." Angie gulped, looking out the window of Emily's office, figuratively checking out the bullpen, even if it was now empty.

"But Emily Prentiss is never going to be happy, knowing what she has lost…" Emily whispered.

"But it wasn't really _Emily Prentiss_ who lost it, was it?" Angie nearly choked on her words.

"No. It was not."

"From where I stand, Emily Prentiss has only ever gained. Things. People. Memories…" Angie once again threw in a connection to a previous conversation they had had.

"Angela Hunter, one could use many names, hide behind many characters…" Emily kept her voice cool, because if she let herself show emotion, she knew for a fact she'd lose it.

"But it's the same heart, beating inside. The same eyes, that see the world. The same lips that utter lies are the same lips that quiver…just like yours are doing, right at this moment…" Emily brought her hand to Angie's chin for a second. "Lips that feel the saltiness of those tears that we inevitably shed, no matter who we are, no matter who we pretend to be. The heart hurts just the same."

Angie realized that Emily's other hand had never moved from where she had put it earlier – on top of hers.

"But I-…" Angie opened her mouth, but Emily saw tears in her eyes. She did not want her to cry. Not for _her_.

"Shh!" Instinctively, Emily pulled her in for a hug.

"It's okay. Take your time." She said, preventing Angie from letting a downpour of words hit her. She knew the girl would regret those words later on. She wasn't ready.

"Whenever you want, I'm always here for you, do you hear me, mon précieux bijou?" Emily's voice changed completely. It was soft, silky, emotional.

She wanted to tell Angela a million different things, yet things all from the same kind. And yet, for some reason, she found herself having to censor her words, to hold back her emotions, to pretend…just like she had done years ago, as Lauren, as Roxy, as Catherine and as a bunch of other made up names, none of whom was The Great Emily Prentiss – the woman who graduated Yale with honors and yet found it so extremely difficult to put her feelings into words, as if English was a foreign language for her.

Angie nodded, holding in a breath and holding back tears. She then found it in her to smile, even if it was obvious how forced it was. At least she was trying.

Emily's next realization was that saying things in French felt about a million times easier. Her last couple of words had just rolled off her tongue and they felt so damn freaking good! It felt like no one could understand, even if there was literally no one out there to overhear them anyway. It felt special, like it was her own little secret language with Angela.

"J'adore ton sourire. Je penserai toujours à toi. Tu me rends heureux." Emily then tried being a bit more eloquent, in French.

Yes, she didn't want anyone else to ever hear those words. Anyone but the girl behind Angela Hunter's eyes.

"Tu me manques…" Angie dared to utter, a tone barely above a whisper, finding it much easier to speak up in French as well.

"Je sais…" Emily broke the hug, just to be able to have a good look at Angela.

"Serre-moi…" Angie pleaded, hating the distance between them.

Emily obliged. She could never deny Angela. She could never wrong her. She could never resist the urge to hug her, anyway, even if Angela was not practically begging for it, like right then and there, at that very moment.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I usually translate the foreign languages, in indirect speech. However, this time I needed the French to remain a secret...a mystery at first 'read', as the whole reason the girls switched to French was so that nobody would understand them. For the more curious readers - it can easily be Google Translated :)!**

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"Guest"** Hello, nice to hear back from you again :) Hmm, the Cheetos thing was about JJ...but I like your theory! Doyle though...woah he hasn't even been mentioned much...same goes for the Ambassador. Yet, nothing is impossible! Keep looking for clues :) And thank you for taking the time to review, I appreciate it a lot! Stay safe and hope to hear from you again, as I'm curious where your theory will go, given the future clues in chapters :)!

**"rmpcmfan" **Hello :) I despise the sight of a drunk girl (so unclassy!) and Angela is supposed to be super wise with things like alcohol. However, I let her slip now so she can open up and show some more raw truth, rather than the shell she's hiding behind. Same goes for Emily. The storytelling was impossible without both of them intoxicated, as they are both super private and secretive, especially about their feelings/fears. It was either getting them drunk or high/drugged, but neither Ems nor Angie would ever touch substances (and I do not condone that), so I used a few cocktails to let them loose :P

JJ is in a very vulnerable place right now - at odds with Will, with one child expelled from school and the other one with a broken hand. Plus, her best friend is showering someone else with the love and affection that JJ needs now. She's overreacting and she knows it, that's why she isn't being vocal about it and she ignores Angela altogether. JJ hates stirring drama, so she's quietly in her corner, on her own now.

You are my source of info on big corporations and budget cuts, lol! I haven't even thought of the salary gapping option! I may play with that later on, even though I have written something similar in a future chapter. Thank you for the idea! Also...the BAU will get an intern/new Agent when Hell freezes over and then burns through the ice once again! Keep in mind that this depends on ONE sole person and you will soon hear their thoughts about that request. Let's just say that this is the time for Emily to be a Prentiss and to scheme her little bitchy heart out, lol!

Good job for the "Monkey" reference, Detective ;)

**"Ducksdragonfly" **Hi :) I enjoy fun, carefree, relaxed and slightly drunk Emily too! I wish we saw more dorky scenes between the Agents on TV, so I'm creating my own inside jokes and silly moments. I don't believe they are all work, no play, the entire time. They must goof around, to deal with the tension of their job!  
Hmm it would definitely be extremely hard for someone (Emily) to get something they want (Angela on the team) when someone else (basically the entire FBI!) is looking down on her and especially the Brass who seem to despise her guts! Not to mention - it is legally impossible for the BAU to welcome an intern after the team sent out JJ's budget cuts proposal (the one Emily was then so upset about). We'll see. Emily is crazy, so expect nothing but a mess of screaming and scheming, lol! Right now it seems like the only person who truly cares about Angela's placement of choice is Emily...the others feel bad that Angie won't be around, but they aren't being too vocal/active about it.  
There will be some more Dan and Ben in the next chapters. One of the main characters may or may not have a bit of a psychological breakdown...or a childish tantrum lol. You just sit tight and wait for the updates ok? :)  
Side note: check your inbox. I replied a few days ago, but then I received the same exact msg as your last one. The website sometimes bugs and it re-sends stuff. Check my reply because now it is hidden above your double msg :)!


	105. Full Circle

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Hey, beautiful readers! I need to clarify one thing :)

In the previous Chapter 104 Emily was _**NOT**_ asking Ben anything about the budget! Her request was for the **BAU to be legally allowed to welcome an intern**. I was intentionally _very_ vague, because I wanted Ben to just know what Emily was asking, without her actually saying it out loud. The comment about "her getting the opportunities/placement she deserves" and Emily's metaphor about a "girl being sent on the journey of her life" were the hints that her request was connected to Angela (or rather: BAU having an intern). In fact, Ben asked Emily "how are you going to meet your budget?", intending "...if you add one more person to your team.".

**DISCLAIMER:** This chapter is probably M rated, just to be safe. It's because of Emily's filthy mind and Angie's filthy mouth. Those two have the weirdest banter going on, I dunno, it just happened, ok? :) Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**CHAPTER 105**

_**FULL CIRCLE**_

"What are you doing?" Emily laughed, walking back into her office and finding Angela writing fiercely on one of the papers she had given her earlier.

After they had finished the case-related work and after yet another emotional talk, Emily had excused herself for about half an hour, as she needed to deliver one of the paper folders personally.

Angie had stayed behind, so Emily now found her sitting in the middle of her desk, right where the tag saying 'Emily Prentiss – BAU Unit Chief' was situated, and on top of Emily's comfortable black leather chair. It made her smile.

"Wait, just give me a minute." Angie put her hand up in the air, requesting for some peace and quiet so she could finish writing.

Emily walked over, leaning over the paper Angie was writing, which she realized was now more than one paper. To the side of it there were two more papers, already filled with words.

Angie grabbed her work of art and gave Emily the shoulder.

"Can't I have a glimpse? I mean, you've practically taken over my office, what now, I can't see what you're doing, Little Miss Future BAU Unit Chief?" Emily smirked.

If she had to be honest with herself, Angela looked quite good, sitting there. Yes, she also looked like a lunatic, writing fast and scribbling things down before striking out a whole phrase and starting all over. But, down the road, Emily could see Angela taking her spot, if Ben would ever make good on his half-spoken promise.

"I have to make it out of the Academy alive, first." Angie rolled her eyes, writing down the last few bits of her letter before sticking it in an envelope and closing it with the secure mark, so that Emily's prying eyes would not be able to read a word of it all, if Angie was to leave it unattended for a second.

"I e-mailed Dan again, to let him know that you should be excused for your absence in class this entire week." Emily said.

"Thank you, but I'm pretty sure this guy is now terrified by me and he wouldn't have the nerve to come yapping at me for that. Or anything, really." Angie said innocently.

"How so?"

"It's confidential!" It was now Angie's turn to have the upper hand. Although, she was itching to tell Emily all about it.

"Oh yeah? So, we can't discuss this right here…or someone might overhear." Emily played along.

"Mhm."

"Say _mhm_ one more time, I dare you!" Emily laughed and once again made sure everything was in her handbag, before she stood up and made a sign for Angela to do the same.

"Come on. Let's go someplace private and talk." She suggested.

"Oh no. I'm done talking. Please. This is weird…" Angie laughed, unable to recall a time in her life when she had been so damn open and honest, so emotional when talking to someone. Emily Prentiss was a bit too much for her.

"I meant…talk about…" Emily made a sign, letting Angie know that she wanted to hear the confidential information.

It was all a game. Neither it was confidential, nor Emily would get into trouble for knowing about it. But it felt good, to act like spies, like two undercover agents, making plans to meet up and discuss dangerous topics. It felt…familiar.

"Spider web 7-2." Angie suggested, speaking in code.

"Oh, oui, exactement." Emily confirmed in French and they walked out.

* * *

"BRYAAAAAAAAAAN?" Angie yelled as she walked in her dorm, with Emily walking in right behind her.

After leaving Emily's office, Angie had expressed her desire to go home and change before they'd go out for lunch.

She had also mentioned that being dressed similarly made them look like the Pokemons or rather – like they were out on a lunch break from their jobs as sales assistants at whatever shop. It was embarrassing. Plus, she wanted to wear something else, something that she hadn't been sweating in all morning.

"Agent Hotness alert! Cover up if you're walking out of the bathroom all naked again!" She called out, giving him a fair heads up.

"Or, get naked, whichever you prefer, since your crush is here!" She added, making Emily physically slap her shoulder, just to make her stop talking.

"Bryan?" She didn't find him in bed, on the sofa and, opening the bathroom door, he wasn't even there.

"He must be out, training with the guys." Angie shrugged.

"On a Sunday?" Emily would have guessed the guys were drinking beer instead.

"Yeah. There's a bunch of us that do some extra training together, whenever we have the time. And tonight we have the cuts, so I guess those ass-kissers are out there, making a good impression." She smirked.

"Oh, them? What about Angela Hunter? I'd peg her for an overachiever, too." Emily knew for a fact that her words were true.

"She is, but she has an excuse to be lazy this week…" She pointed at Emily, figuratively meaning that she was supposed to only follow Emily, and not Academy-related things. At least until the sun went down that day. After that Cinderella Mini Prentiss would turn back into the Academy Pumpkin once more.

"Yeah, blame it on me, girl. Blame it on me!" Emily rolled her eyes and laughed at her own fake dramatic moment.

"Mhhh, I guess I'm done blaming people for things." Angie said cheerfully, trying to pick a nice outfit out of her wardrobe.

She frowned, as soon as her fingers touched any next item on those hangers.

"Uh-oh…" Emily teased, walking closer and realizing that Angie had two types of items – Academy branded uniforms and sportswear.

"I guess the nicest thing I own is what I'm already wearing. And that's lame. I mean, no offense, you're literally wearing the same thing, basically." She laughed.

_Smart_ looked good on Emily, but a little too desperate on Angela, with her tender age.

"I have this white dress, but my ass would freeze if I put it on now, with those temperatures. Plus, it's the only nice dress I have, I came to the Academy with it."

"You walked in Quantico, wearing _that_!?" Emily's jaw dropped as her eyes inspected the garment.

The dress was pretty, all white and sparkly, but it did not belong there.

"All eyes on me, from day one. Just like I wanted it!" Angie smirked victoriously, making one of her favorite Diva gestures.

"I swear to God, you belong to Broadway…or _any_ other major stage, really." Emily messed with Angie's hair for a second, before her hand gave her a push towards the door.

Angie gave up and ended up wearing the same outfit from the morning as they walked towards the car.

"Get in, loser. We're going shopping." Emily called out as she got in the car first.

"Oh, I know this is a quote from '_Mean Girls'_. I was forced to watch it at sports camp!" Angie said, proud to be able to pinpoint a movie quote.

She hated movies. All she ever knew about movies was what she had randomly read online or heard on TV, so she wasn't good at movie references.

With music, however, she was unbeatable!

Emily sped up and went straight to the shopping center where they had gone to on Monday, the one with the French Patisserie.

"Full circle?" Angie smirked, calling Emily out on her obvious attempt to be cute and to recreate their first day together, on their last day together.

"Full circle!" Emily confirmed.

But before they'd inevitably end up at the French place, they walked around the mall for an hour. Emily had bribed Angela into trying at least ten different dresses, two of which she had absolutely insisted on buying for her.

Angie changed into one of her new acquisitions and strut around the mall, looking a lot more confident now. It put a genuine smile on Emily's face, seeing Angie in her element, or more like – acting like someone her age.

"Spider web 7-2?" Angie said that weird thing in code once again and Emily exhaled.

"Thank God you said it first. I'm starving." With those words, Emily took the corridor that lead to where it had all started, seven days ago.

"Bonjour." Angela greeted the staff, knowing that they weren't actually French, but still, it felt nice.

Somehow, she had gotten over her shyness already and she ended up ordering a few items, without worrying about Emily's credit card.

Emily remembered how, on Monday, she had sat there, at the very same secluded table for two, with a very different, shy and reserved girl. The difference was enormous. In only just a week she had seen Angela bloom into this wonderful, amazing person. At some point Emily had to ask herself: is that what a parent's pride feels like – having a child, watching it grow up in front of your eyes, always saying that they're growing up way too fast, watching them transform, learn, grow and become their own person? Was being a parent such an emotional ride, like the one Emily had embarked on for those seven days? What would her life had been, had she been a parent all along?

She exhaled sharply, trying to block all those incoming thoughts and questions, out of her mind. And then, as soon as she laid eyes on Angela again, it all started from the beginning: what would it have been? What could have been? What if Emily's life had taken a different turn, all these years ago? What if…just…what if…

"So, how come there's no Mr. Prentiss in your life?" Angie asked casually, licking her fork after finishing her starter.

"And I mean, a love interest. Because, let's face it – you are a bad ass gal and if a guy was to be with you, you won't be taking his surname. He'd be honored to take _yours_." Angie chuckled at the weird way this all came out.

"Uhh…" Emily's eyes got drawn to the venue's sign.

_French Patisserie…_

Out of all the men she'd ever been with, only _one_ came to mind, when answering Angie's question.

"There _was_ someone…" She sighed.

"Oh?" Angie's face lit up like a Christmas tree. She loved a good story.

"There isn't…anymore." Emily shrugged, going from the start of the story, straight to the end.

"Oh, come on. That's the worst fairy tale I've ever heard!" Angie whimpered. She had been preparing for an amazing tale, instead.

"That's the worst fairy tale I've ever _lived_, so…" Emily shrugged once again.

"Was he cute?"

"Angela!" Emily blushed a little.

Angela was hot and cold, sometimes reserved, but then at times – so blunt about the way she stated or asked things.

"Fine. Yeah. He was '_cute'_, in his 'cute' French way." Emily made air quotes around that one word, sounding like someone Angie's age, to be using it when describing a full-grown man.

"Was he a good kisser? God, French men know how to kiss." Angie was now smiling wide.

"Exactly _how many_ French men have you kissed, young lady?" Protective Emily came out to play, not liking what Angie's words were insinuating.

"Just…about…enough…" Angie shrugged innocently. "And you're dodging the question!"

"He was not bad…" That was all Emily decided to say, in reply.

"You keep trailing off. Come on, I thought we were going to be honest with each other this week." Angie then frowned, giving Emily her cutest puppy eyes – a look no one had ever been able to resist.

Emily thought for a second. Angela had been somewhat of an open book, all week long. Yes, she had been a bit reserved, but a lot of the ice had melted between them, almost instantly. And Emily was now finding herself to be the one holding back. Why?

"Fine. I don't see how any of this is your business, but if you really must know…" Emily trailed off once again, just to make Angie flip out, before she'd get her sweet reply.

"He was the most amazing man I've ever met. And he had the weirdest sense of humor, which, yeah…it kind of worked perfectly, for me. And I know I'm FBI and all that, but at times, a woman just needs to feel safe. And he did that for me. He made me feel safe and happy…and even somewhat normal." Emily was smiling wide, recalling events from her week in France, with Richard.

"Yeah, yeaaah…" Angie faked a yawn. "Was he a good kisser?" She pressed her most important question one more time.

"I already told you." Emily now felt like her cheeks were on fire and she was hoping they hadn't changed color on the outside.

"You're blushing. Oooh, Emily Prentiss is blusshhhhhiiing…" Angie said in sing-song tone.

"Stop it." Emily chuckled, with a huge idiot-like grin on her face.

"Emily Prentiss has a cruuuush, on a cute guyyyyy." Angela continued to sing annoyingly. "A cute French guy, yay yay yay…"

"Come on, stop. People are looking…Oh God." Emily buried her face in her hands, with her elbows resting on the edge of the table. It was hardly table etiquette, but it helped conceal some of her identity, preserve some of her pride too.

"You know what else French men do exceptionally well?" Angie stuck her tongue out and bit the tip of it, in the most suggestive manner.

"Oh, mon Dieu. Please, stop! Oh my God, Angela. No! No, no. Just no! Oh God!" Emily was terrified of what Angie might have suggested, with that tongue out like that.

"Fromage!" Angie smirked, giving Emily her answer while licking her lower lip. "Je aime le fromage!" She added, being a sucker for cheese.

Cheese? Really? Angela built up for something juicy and ended up saying 'cheese' in the end? Did she really dare test Emily's dirty mind? Or Emily's boundaries when it came to dirty talk? Because, as far as anyone was concerned, Emily Prentiss was the Queen of sexual innuendos and nobody in the entire world could ever beat her, not even Morgan himself.

"Look, I am _this_ close to murdering you right about now…" Emily was fuming red, as soon as she figured out that Angela had just set her up.

"Oh hey, don't blame _me_. It's the power of suggestion. Come on, you should know that, Miss Profiler. Ain't my fault you have a naughty mind, hey!" Angie put her hands up in mock surrender.

Emily was quiet for a second. Angela wanted to play tough? She'd show her _tough_.

"But yeah, I guess, on second thought, you're right." Emily said, super casually, before taking a sip of water.

"About what? I'm right about a lot of things. You'd have to elaborate on that." Angie smirked.

"That thing, with the tongue. French men know how to work it." Emily tried so damn hard not to burst out in laughter as she spoke. She came out blunt, just like Angela sometimes was, and so damn direct.

Angie's eyes widened. Did she really just…?

Her lips formed into a confused smile and her cheeks were now a shade darker than what Emily's had been, just a minute ago.

"You know what else they do, oh so exceptionally well?" Emily leaned forward and whispered across the table.

If she needed to whisper, God knows what piece of inappropriate information she was about to pour out to poor innocent little Angela.

"No, and I think I've heard enough. Thanks." Angie said defensively.

But Emily would not give up.

"Oh, but trust me, this is good." Emily kept on whispering.

Angie was now beyond confused and she felt so incredibly awkward.

"They do that thing…" Emily raised an eyebrow, as if she was communicating that the next part of her statement would be juicy.

"No…" Angie muttered to herself, trying to block her auditory functions, mentally.

"With their fingers…" Emily continued and Angie winced, as if she was in pain.

"They usually use three, sometimes even four…" Emily trailed off after each piece of her statement, allowing Angela to sink deeper into her chair.

"There's also this thing, you know, long, round…and at times quite big. Always hard…" Emily smirked. She was enjoying every damn second of this torture.

Angela was now pale. Emily could see her gulp, with her eyes still wide, in shock from what she was hearing.

"And French people are sooo good with those fingers, that they have different ways of doing it. Twisting it, taking turns, one on top of the other…"

"Eww, I never want to have sex…" Angie felt sick, a different kind of sickness than the one she had experienced when Dan and his posse had drugged her, weeks ago.

"Then don't." Emily smirked. "Try French knitting instead! It's wonderful. I just briefly touched base on what it consists of. And they use all the colorful threads and make beautiful ornaments and bracelets with it. You'll like it."

Emily saw Angela's jaw drop, realizing that all of those words Emily had just uttered, really did describe the process of French knitting, and not what had been on Angie's mind all along.

Emily sat there, letting Angela feel even more awkward now that she realized she had been played by the original player.

"Don't screw around with a profiler!" Emily winked at her and, very casually, took another sip of her water.

It felt good to show some more of her Boss Lady, invincible dirty innuendos, savage Emily side now. She had missed her, or rather – she had repressed her for way too long. It was time for different hidden sides of Emily Prentiss to resurface and Emily was not mad about that.

"Yes, Ma'am!" Angie was so stressed that her only reply was to treat Emily as if they were Marines – calling her Madam and making a formal salute with her right hand against her forehead.

Emily finally burst out laughing.

"That was good…" Angie admitted, placing a hand on her heart, to steady it.

"And you, my dear, have no right to call me out on _my_ dirty mind, from here on now." Emily said, pushing one of the dishes that they were sharing, closer to Angie, after she noticed how much the girl enjoyed it.

"Fine, it's human nature. Or so I keep being told." Angie shrugged, sounding a bit…inexperienced.

"Oh?" Emily's eyes instantly flew to Angie's right hand. More specifically, to one of her fingers, where Emily saw a dainty ring.

Emily knew what that was, it looked a lot like a purity ring, or some kind of a promise ring anyway. And from what she saw, Angie was quite attached to it.

Angie caught Emily's spying eyes and, subconsciously, brought her left hand on top of the right one and her fingers started playing with that ring, as she kept on blushing.

"You should know that sex is the number one topic at the BAU, both _during_ work and _outside_ of it. If you don't feel comfortable enough to share things, you don't have to." Emily smiled, now in a more sincere and understanding way.

"I wouldn't have to, at all." Angie reminded her – it was Sunday. It was the last time she'd ever be with the BAU.

A sigh escaped Emily's lips. A loud sigh, coming from deep inside.

As they continued their lunch, they spoke about random little things. Emily was curious to know about the Academy, while Angela had learned not to ask Emily any more questions about her love life.

At some point, Emily grabbed her phone from her handbag and shot a quick message before leaving it facing down, on the table.

A few minutes later, the annoying buzzing got to her and she finally picked it up again, reading her replies.

"It is rude to be on your phone, at the table, while entertaining such a beautiful guest as moi!" Angie pointed at herself, smiling.

She had that weird way of being random, dorky and so cute, at the same time. She'd give herself compliments and she'd laugh about it, clearly making a joke, but Emily knew better.

To Emily, Angela's words pointed to the fact that she did, indeed, value herself. She certainly had her moments of self-doubt, but for the most part she knew her worth. She thought highly of herself. And that was something Emily could only envy her for. Maybe if they had a little more time to spend together, maybe…just maybe Emily would learn how to value herself as well.

"Je suis desolee…" Emily muttered her excuse in French before replying with a quick text and then switching the sound and vibration off and sticking her phone in the small pocket of her handbag, zipping it all the way up.

Angie chuckled.

"What?" Emily questioned.

"Nothing." Angie could fool anyone with those eyes. Anyone _but_ Emily Prentiss.

"Come on, Baby Profiler. Spill it and I might someday show you those confidential documents that I hid from you earlier, in the office." Emily knew that the best way to get anything out of Angela was through extortion and bribing, so that's what she did.

"Fine. You are _so_ desperate to soak every second with me, that you could not have put your work phone further away, as if it was a prisoner." Angie said with a smile.

"It's kind of cute, actually." She added and when Emily gave her a scolding look, she knew she had to soften it up a little. "What? You asked for it!" She smirked, deciding against that softening up after all.

"You are a piece of work, Angela Hunter." Emily shook her head, but she could not deny the truth of the words she had just heard.

Angela surely was a piece of work.

Emily Prentiss would not mind doing all that work, though – being around her, being there for her, just watching her grow.

* * *

_"Guys, I was thinking…how about a dinner tonight at my place, for the end of Angela's week with us?"_

That was the text Emily had sent to the BAU group chat during her lunch with Angela.

She would then ignore the chat that unraveled, giving her undivided attention to Angela, instead.

In the meantime, everyone replied in their own way.

_"Awwwwh Ems, this is so sweet of you! Yes, yes and double yes! Wait, isn't that three yesses? Three times yes? Yesses…is that even a word? HELP!"_ Garcia replied first.

_"Ohh no. I'm taking the kids to a birthday party this afternoon, so my wife is going to need all the help she could get, to put the naughty sugar-high little ones to bed tonight. I'm sorry. I really wish I could be there."_ Matt replied after Garcia.

_"I'm there!"_ Reid said and got quoted by both Luke and Tara, who sent thumbs up and a bunch of various smiley faces after that, too.

_"I can't."_ JJ texted a short, sour reply.

_"Come on, JJ…"_ Tara protested.

It was obvious to everyone that Angie and JJ did not click, at all.

_"Have some family stuff going on tonight. What? I have a life, too!"_ JJ argued and then stopped replying.

_"Rossi?"_ Tara asked, as he was the only one who hadn't yet replied.

_"Angela would really appreciate this, Emily. She deserves it after the great work she did these days. I am definitely going to be there and I am bringing the good white wine!"_ Rossi finally replied.

By the time everyone answered, Emily was done with hearing her phone buzzing. She picked it up and skimmed through the messages, pouting at the outcome.

She wanted Angela to be integrated into the BAU, so _everyone_ had to be there and unfortunately Matt was unable to attend, that evening.

_"Tomorrow night?"_ Emily texted quickly, offering another option.

Everyone quickly said Yes. Monday night was much easier for them to hang out, as they would have spent the day together anyway.

Matt confirmed it was okay for him, too.

This time JJ did not reply at all.

Emily groaned, while listening to Angela give her a speech on table etiquette. She put the phone away in her bag and decided to deal with JJ's tantrums later. She would be present at that dinner, if Emily had to personally drag her jealous ass all the way to her house.

* * *

"Angela Hunter…" Emily said, piling her now empty plates on top of each other, so the waitress would find it easier to grab them. "What are you doing tomorrow evening?"

Angie shrugged. "I dunno. Probably…either working out with the guys or reading a book. Why?"

"I'd like to invite you to dinner at my home, with my team. You know, as a Thank You for being such a wonderful Mini to me this week. And such a great addition to the team." Emily smiled, but she seemed like a stressed out teenager, afraid to speak up. She looked…shy.

"Oh…" Angie could not help but feel proud, hearing those words.

"I would love to!" She added before Emily would pass out after just a vague 'Oh' as an answer.

"I would also like to extend the invite to Bryan, as well. Given that he can behave, in front of my team. So, that's no more 'Agent Hotness' references and no more subtle and not-so-subtle remarks from _you_, young lady!" Emily's finger pointed towards Angie, accusingly.

"So, basically, you want _me_ to behave?" Angie smirked.

"Exactly." Emily nodded.

"So, you wouldn't mind Bryan misbehaving? You want him to be a bad boy?" Angie pouted, biting her lips in the most suggestive way, accompanying her little question.

"Angela Hunter!" Emily gasped in complete shock. "This is exactly what _cannot_ happen at the dinner. You…and your filthy mind and your little…ugh comments. Ugh!"

Angie enjoyed watching Emily grimace and feel uncomfortable. She fully deserved that, after the trick she had played on her with that French knitting comment.

"That's karma." Angie smirked victoriously.

"Oh, sweet little innocent child…" Emily smirked right back and that confused Angela. Wasn't she just the one feeling uncomfortable? What happened?

"If this week should teach you _one_ thing, it would be that you are _never_ going to win the game of dirty talking. Not against Emily Prentiss. Ever!" Emily pushed a strand of hair from her face, so that Angie could have a better look of the content smile she had on her face.

"Pfff. Fine. But I'm usually the one to drop inappropriate jokes. It's like, one of my many charms." She said lamely, as if a child was being denied something they wanted and they needed to justify it.

"Well then you're going to have to share that charming and quite disturbing quality with moi. Because I'm not going to change." Emily loved having the upper hand, even though at this moment she was just messing with Angela. It was just _so_ much fun.

"Yeah, guess it would be hard to change at your age…" Angie was a tough cookie. She would not back down, even in front of an authority figure, such as Emily Prentiss.

"Ouch! Exactly _how_ old do you think I am?" Emily pouted, unsure if she wanted to hear an answer to this question.

"Old enough to look damn great with that hair…and those form-fitting pants…and that V-neck." Angie meant that to be a compliment, but Emily received it wrong.

"Okay, _Bryan_…calm down. Take it easy…" Emily started laughing.

The way Angela spoke sometimes sounded a bit…flirty. Her enthusiasm reminded her of Bryan, but then again, Emily realized that Bryan had never said such words to her. It had always been Angela to insinuate things and then blame them on Bryan. Poor guy.

"You _do_ have a big mouth." Emily added with a sigh.

"Been told so, yeah…" Angie said cheekily.

She was not joking about her love of dropping inappropriate hints, like…_all_ the time.

"Eww, oh my God. Stop!" Emily covered her ears with both hands.

Angela surely knew how to push her buttons.

"What else is on your agenda today? Or, do you want to get rid of me already and go home, I dunno, sleep or whatever?" Angie changed the topic, which was a really smart thing to do.

"I don't have _any_ intention of getting rid of you, young lady. Not today. Not _ever_." Emily stated calmly, swiping her credit card to pay for the lunch that was now finished.

"How about we go do something fun?" Emily suggested.

"Like what?" Angie shot her a glance, afraid of what things this woman might consider '_fun'_.

"I have no idea. I never have any fun." Emily laughed, intending it to be a joke, but the truth was not too far from that statement. "What is it that young people do for fun?"

"Young people? They smoke pot, disrespect their parents, fail out of college, hook up with strangers, break into old people's houses and steal their money, set things on fire, torture street cats and so on…" Angie could continue, but she decided to stop.

"Okay, you got me. I meant, what is it that _you_, Angela Hunter, do for fun?" Emily rephrased her question.

"I like tumbling…" She smirked, obviously she could not do that with Emily. "I like breaking into the swimming pool with Bryan, late at night…" She continued. "I also like eating anything that contains sugar and I like readi-…"

"Reading just about _any_ of Rossi's books?" Emily continued that last statement, along with Angela, making the girl blush a little, at her own predictability.

"Anything less athletic, less illegal and less, well, nerdy?" Emily asked, still trying to find common ground.

"Uhm…" It took Angela a whole minute to think about it and yet, she came up with no answer.

"That's fine. Let's try something new. Maybe we'll like it. It can become _our thing_, you know?" Emily suggested, standing up and putting her jacket on.

"Be brave enough to suck at something new!" Angie stated as she, as well, stood up and made sure both chairs were perfectly aligned with the table, just the way they had found them when they had been accommodated at the table earlier.

Emily smiled, liking Angie's way of thinking. This girl was not afraid to try out new things, even if she wasn't sure she'd be good at them. She then noticed something else – Angie wiped a small water drop from the table and brushed a few breadcrumbs away. She then placed both water glasses on top of the only plate left, and she took them all to the counter.

"Thank you very much, Sir. We enjoyed the food and the atmosphere. Great choice of music, I love Joe Dassin! Have a good day, Sir." She said politely, to the first person she saw at the counter, which was an elderly man with white hair and a very soothing smile.

"Thank you, young girl. Have a good day yourself." The man greeted her back. It wasn't every day that a youngster would have the manners that this girl was showing.

"God, you really are amazing…" Emily muttered, more to herself, than as a statement to Angela.

But she heard her anyway.

"I keep telling people that and they don't believe me!" Angie said dramatically, swaying her hands in the air and letting out a long sigh.

By this point, Emily was used to her little funny outbursts and her weird sense of humor. She liked how Angela had a Diva side to her, but only when she was joking. This girl was not bigheaded at all. If anything, she was the most down to Earth person Emily had ever met.

Walking around the last floor of the mall, where the food court and the playground were, Emily pointed a few things out, for Angela to choose from.

"Mini golf?" Emily's first suggestion popped up, seeing the playing field right in front of them.

"I don't like playing with balls…" Angie smirked, earning herself an instant icy stare at the connotation those words had, in a different sense.

"Cinema?" Emily continued.

"Can't really talk during a movie. You know how annoying it is to have random people shush me all the time? Ugh! No, thank you." Angie clearly did not even acknowledge the fact that normal people went to the movies, for the movies, not for socializing with each other.

"Bowling?" Emily kept on checking their surroundings, now shooting each and every suggestion that she possibly could.

"What? You're just begging for another balls-related statement, aren't you?" Angie made sure she was at least two feet away from Emily when she pronounced those words, just in case Emily might feel the urge to slap her.

"Fine. I give up!" Emily threw her hands in the air.

Everything else she saw around them was for kids. There was a mini train that went around the upper floor, there was also a coloring station for the youngest ones, and an air-pumped castle that a few toddlers were jumping on.

That gave Angie an idea.

"Wanna _really_ go full circle?" She raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Why not?" Emily agreed.

"Can we go back and play with the kids? I want to know if little Nora's adoption papers have all been approved." Angie spoke with a huge smile on her face.

Emily was silent for a long moment. So, these were the last few hours that Angela had with her and she could have asked for _anything_…anything in the world. Yet, all she wanted to do was go make other kids happy by playing with them. Really? Was she an actual Angel? Was she even real?

"I can call Mrs. Vallard and arrange that. The kids usually play outside in the afternoon, if the weather is nice. And it is quite sunny today."

"Perfect!" Angie then looked at herself.

She was all cute, in her new dress. She had the other new dress in a shopping bag, plus her smart black pants and the bordeaux shirt from this morning. It was hardly appropriate for her to roll on the ground, wearing either of those items of clothing.

"Don't worry. We're hitting that sports shop downstairs on the way." Emily, the profiler, already knew what Angela was thinking about.

Half an hour later they were dressed in leggings and simple shirts, with hoodies to keep them warm, and on the way to Emily's car at the parking lot.

"You look great in sportswear." Angie said, this time making her compliment sound a lot less…flirty.

"Please, don't comment on my ass!" Emily rolled her eyes, fully expecting Angela to continue by saying something inappropriate.

"Wasn't going to." Angie shrugged. But she really, _really_ wanted to say just that.

"Are you ready for a massive headache?" Emily laughed when she pulled up to the parking lot of the orphanage, a few minutes later.

The kids were always loud and they were everywhere – jumping, screaming and throwing objects at Emily, each time she had visited them. But that headache she always brought back home was nothing, compared to the joy they had filled her with, each time. And she knew that they were happy to have her there, as well. Like Mrs. Vallard had already told her – she was one of the very few sponsors who would actually spend time with the kids, instead of just pouring a check and leaving instantly.

"Can't wait!" Angie said happily. She adored children and she could never get annoyed, by anything they did.

They were greeted and accompanied to the back yard by a girl who worked there. As soon as the kids noticed Emily, they dropped whatever they were doing and they were on their merry way to go greet their favorite comedian.

Emily was all serious when she was Unit Chief Prentiss, but she was a complete goofball in the presence of kids. She would pull the most random and unflattering faces, just to make them laugh. All BAU kids adored her for it – Henry had been obsessed with her since he could remember himself, Mickey would be sent into hysterical giggles just a minute upon Emily's arrival in his vicinity and Matt's kids were currently preparing their Family Day gifts for their parents and they had a special arts project to finish, for Emily, because as far as they were concerned this woman was family, even if her surname was not Simmons.

Sometimes Emily would think about little Hank Spencer Morgan. Would he have liked her? Would he even remember her? She had only seen him as a newborn, right before his daddy left the BAU and moved to the other side of the world. Would Hank and her have a close connection, like she had with everyone else's child? Hell, even Rossi's daughter Joy's child was a little sucker for some Emily playtime and he would run after her and play tricks on her at every event that they were both attending. Maybe baby Morgan would like her, too, if he ever had the chance to get to know her, to get to spend time with her.

"Emmmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!" One of the younger kids squealed at the top of their lungs, running towards her and breaking her concentration on her inner thoughts.

"And Sparkly Angel!" One of the girls who had loved Angie's hair last time, chose to run to _her_ side, instead.

Before they knew it, new games had started and numerous little playgroups had been formed. For the next two hours they often played in teams, against one another, which made their competitive sides come out. Emily felt humiliated when Angie's playgroup won one of the first games, but then her own group won the next few rounds. While Angela had taken the defeat with maximum sportsmanship, Emily felt the need to rub her own victory in the girl's face anyway.

Angela laughed it off, at the moment, but she would surely rub it in Emily's face later – the fact that she was a sore loser.

At some point a very sad looking little Nora walked out to the backyard.

When Emily and Angela didn't see her among the other kids earlier, they just figured she was with her new adoptive family already. So, seeing her pouty little face now came as a shock to both.

"No." Angela put her hand in front of Emily, as if to restrain her, at the moment when she saw Emily try to take a step forward, towards where Nora was now, pouting and looking at the kids from a far.

"But I-…" Emily started off, unsure if she was going to say that she 'needed to go talk to Nora' or that she 'wanted to be there for Nora'.

"No." Angie repeated calmly. "You don't get her. You can't be there for her."

Emily gulped, but she agreed with that statement. She knew nothing about Nora's pain at that moment.

Without saying another word, Angela walked over to Nora instead.

"Hey, Bubbah." She greeted the kid who had a blank expression on her face.

"Hey, I want to talk to you about something. Is that okay? Can I talk to you?" Angie asked for permission, in two different ways.

She could relate to a young child who was keeping secrets and who wanted to isolate themselves from everyone and everything.

"Nora, can we talk?" Angie pushed a third time, but not only did she not receive permission, but she received absolutely no recognition at all.

Nora just kept her eyes on whatever there was in front of her, with that same troublesome expression on her face and the same pain in her eyes.

As soon as Angie followed Nora's eyes and figured out that they weren't gazing into the nothingness, but rather – at Emily, herself, Angie figured out what might be going on.

"You are _hers_ now." Nora said spitefully.

"Why _you_? Why couldn't it be _me_?" The child added, suddenly going into tears.

Angie had been forced to deal with an emotional, crying Prentiss all week long, and now she found herself having to console yet another crying girl.

She extended her hands and she knew Nora would jump in, which she did, right away.

"Let's go inside and get something to drink, okay?" Angie said softly, wanting to take Nora away from everyone.

Kids could be ruthless and she didn't want to risk either one of them later on laughing at Nora, for crying. But mostly – she didn't want Emily to see the child in tears.

Once they were surely on their own, sitting on a sofa in the living room area, Angela tried to keep the conversation going.

"Tell me what is bothering you, sweetie." She asked softly, still holding Nora, in attempts to make her stop crying.

"She chose _you_." Nora said accusingly.

At some point in her life, Nora had this desire to be adopted by Emily. And then she got over it, as soon as her new host family started showing interest in her. It was a better deal – she would have both a mommy and a daddy, with them. So, once she realized that Emily wasn't going anywhere and she even promised to still go see her and be in her life, Nora had let go of her original desire and she started hoping to be placed with the family, instead.

But still, given what was going on with her adoption, Nora couldn't help but go back to what she had wanted first, and she let herself throw a little tantrum.

"Do you want me to be honest with you? Or do you want me to tell you what you want to hear?" Angela, growing up, had been spoken to as an adult, so she treated Nora the same way now.

To Nora both suggestions sounded somewhat the same, so she chose the first one – the truth.

"Okay, the truth is that she never chose me." Angie said with pain in her voice. "I chose _her_. For better or worse, _she_ was my choice and I don't necessarily regret it. In fact, if I had to go back in time…"

Angie trailed off for a moment. Nora was surely confused as Hell and that poor thing wouldn't understand a word of Angie's emotional downpour, but that was okay. Nora was just happy to be held, even if it was by the person she envied so damn much at that moment.

"If I had to go back in time…" Angie repeated. "I wouldn't change a single thing." She added with a smile.

And then, just as about a million things ran through her mind, she realized something.

"Life isn't perfect and sometimes the people we choose end up hurting us or disappointing us, in different ways. They sometimes won't choose us back. They might choose themselves, instead. That does not mean they don't love us or that they don't want us, okay?" She looked at Nora for some sort of a confirmation that she was still listening.

Weirdly, Nora was quite invested in Angie's words, trying to decipher them and apply them in her own little world.

"What does it mean then?" Nora asked.

She had been disappointed before and that had left her confused, so talking to Angie who sounded like she had experienced pretty much the same, made her feel good. It made her feel less lonely in her pain. It made her feel like someone out there understood her, when none of the kids could relate to what Nora had gone through. She never even spoke about it, not even with Mrs. Vallard, who clearly knew Nora's background and was aware of her issues and the psychological trauma she had been through.

"I haven't figured it out yet, but I think it might mean that this person was, at the time, not strong enough to handle all the love they felt…"

"Huh?" Nora eyed Angie as if she was crazy. Her words made absolutely no sense to her.

And yet, to Angela, this realization hit hard.

"You are weird!" Nora stated honestly, cringing a little.

"I know, sweetie. I'm weird and I'm spontaneous and I'm a bit of a mess and I'm also an overachiever, but I do procrastinate like there is no tomorrow…and I also love myself, but I sometimes hate myself too. I'm messy…" Angie then smiled, quoting a part of her letter to Monkey. "I'm educated. I'm sloppy. I'm imperfect…"

"But I am only human…" Angie kept on quoting. "…Just like I told her…" She added, now fully immersed into her own thoughts, the parallels she was drawing in her head.

"You told who? Emily?" Nora asked, noticing how Angie was now looking directly at Emily, on the other side of the window.

"Nope." Angie shook her head. "Monkey. I told Monkey. I also asked Monkey why I wasn't good enough. And I still don't know the answer. I don't think I ever will…" Angie replied in her usual confusing metaphoric way that made Nora sigh unhappily. Poor kid, she wished she could follow Angie's train of thought.

"But that's okay. You know why?" Angie asked rhetorically.

"Because…you are cool enough, because you can talk to monkeys?" Nora suggested naively. This was as much as she could grasp from Angie's words anyway.

"No, no. I meant that it's okay because someone else loves me now. Someone else believes in me. So, it's fine…it's life. It goes on, you know? Sometimes we have to let go of the things we wanted, in order to get other things…things that we are meant to have."

"But…you can still talk to monkeys, right?" Nora asked, as this was the most pressing question she currently had.

"In a way, yes I can. However, I don't think I will be doing so anymore. I have to let go…" Angie was so far gone into her own thoughts that she forgot Nora's age and just blabbed things that were indecipherable.

"I have to move on…" Angie whispered to herself.

She then smiled, realizing one more thing – she had gone to the Academy, all kinds of screwed up. Her thoughts and desires were all over the place and she had been trying way too hard to come off as a happy girl, when in reality there had been numerous times when she just wanted to sit down and bang her head against a wall for hours. She had felt lonely and she had felt confused. Each time her fellow Trainees had received a letter from family members or their loved ones, Angela had made jokes and laughed about them, to give her own self a distraction, a reason not to show weakness. Because, having nobody to care about you, to write to you, to come see you…it really sucked.

The only person who knew and who reached out had been Monkey, each time they had the chance to send a care package. And yet, somehow, it did not sit right with Angie. She felt resentment, she felt betrayed and she felt all sorts of fucked up when it came to her relationship with Monkey. Hurt. Confused. Scared. Everything. She felt everything while feeling like she felt nothing on the inside. How could that not be confusing?

Then she had ended up doing Mini Week with this Emily Prentiss woman – one she knew absolutely nothing about. She did not know her favorite foods, she did not know that she sometimes chewed with her mouth open, she did not have a damn clue that this woman was so bad ass, but also so vulnerable, at the same time. This person – Emily Prentiss, was someone Angela wanted to know more about. And she had spent the past seven days, following her around like a puppy, studying her every move, the way she walked, the way she dressed, the way she pronounced things, the way she squinted her eyes right before she'd go off on someone, the way she'd hold her gun, the way she'd analyze a case in great detail and most importantly – the way she constantly went out of her way, just to be with Angela, to teach her something new, to show her something more about her real self.

What she valued the most was the way Emily Prentiss vowed to be completely honest with her and with each chance she had, she showed Angela nothing but a 100% of her true self. No inhibitions. No filters. Just Emily Prentiss, with her gentle soft side, with her boss side, with her vulnerable side and with just about a million other sides of her character, the character that Angela now called Emily Prentiss.

She has had seven days to figure out her issue with Monkey – someone who had once vowed to love her and who had let her down twice before. Someone who hadn't been able to appreciate Angela, with all the traits of her own real character. Someone who may not have been strong enough to understand, accept or even assimilate all the innocent love that they had been showered with.

"Sounds like you hate monkeys." Nora came to the conclusion, since Angie was smiling and then pouting, suddenly claiming she wanted to move on from that species.

"No, little Nora. I love Monkey. But sometimes love is not reciprocated. Sometimes you just have to go on, searching for someone who would love you back."

"Have you found that person yet?" Nora asked and Angie nodded, without saying a word.

"It's Emily, isn't it?" Nora once again asked, out of the blue.

Angie did not speak up.

"I can see how you look at her. It's the way all those new parents who come here, look at the kid they have chosen." Nora backed her assumption up with a very disturbing, but very valid and logical reasoning.

"Like I told you – _I_ chose _her_. Years ago I chose Monkey, but they didn't choose me back, so it was extremely hard to come out of my shell and choose someone else now." Angie replied honestly.

"Well, I think Emily will choose you, too. She also looks at you the way new parents do, right before they take one of the kids." Nora explained herself the best way she could.

She had been at the orphanage for a while now and she had seen many people, whom she called 'new parents', walk in and choose someone. She wouldn't admit it, but each time she had been jealous.

"Why wouldn't anyone choose me?" Nora asked, her little eyes watering up once again. "Am I not good enough?"

Angie thought for a moment. She knew Nora's background story from when Emily had told her about the BAU case that had left Nora an orphan. That would surely lead to trauma and that meant that not any and every couple could adopt her. They had to understand her, to want to help her out, to make her feel loved. No doubt it would be extremely hard to transition a child like Nora, into a new home. Sadly, Angela was quite sure of that.

"You _are_ good enough, do you hear me?" Angie whispered, touching Nora's chin with one hand and making her face her.

"You are an amazing little girl. You are strong and you can't let _anyone_ make you feel anything less than amazing. Okay?" Angie continued.

"But nobody wants me…" Nora pushed it once again.

Clearly, _that_ was what was bothering her.

"Maybe I should act differently. Maybe if I was…I don't know…if I was different. Maybe if I played with the kids more…" Nora tried to think of something she might have done wrong, a reason why she was still there when other kids had new families now.

"No. No, no. Get those thoughts out of your head!" Angie nearly commanded her. "Sweetie, if someone doesn't want you, it's their own damn fault they cannot appreciate you. It has nothing to do with you. There is not a single thing in the world that you could possibly change, so that they would like you."

"But _you_ are good enough. Why didn't your Monkey want you?" Nora tried to hold back her tears.

She was ashamed. She felt weak and helpless when crying. And she wanted to be done feeling either of those things.

What she didn't know was just how much Angie could relate to her pain.

"Like I said - I may never know." Angie shrugged, letting one hand caress Nora's face. It was so soft, so warm.

"But Emily wants you now." Nora pointed out.

In a week she had seen Emily twice and not only that, but each time Emily had walked in with Angela by her side. She had never before brought her friends in to play with the kids.

"I guess so. We shall see..." Angie said, in doubt.

"I know she does. You're a lucky girl." Nora once again let out a tiny sigh of desperation.

"Is it okay if we spoke about _you_ now?" Angie asked for permission once again.

During her numerous and diverse studies she had also done some training in how to talk to children, specifically children who were victims of or survivors in major crimes. She knew for a fact that those kids needed constant reassurance. If she wanted to get information out of them, then she had to thread extremely lightly. She had to establish a connection first and _then_ maybe try to ask them a few questions.

"Yes." Nora nodded.

"What is making you upset? Tell me about your host family..." Angie kept her voice even and somewhat authoritative, but still friendly.

Nora had to see Angie as a friend, but to think of her as someone older, wiser, someone she could confide in.

"I liked them a lot. I've been to their house a few times. They were supposed to come get me this Friday afternoon, for the weekend. But they didn't. And then next week was going to be my last week here and then I was going to have a home again. But I guess that is not happening either. I think they may have changed their mind. They never told me anything. Mrs. Vallard gave me extra ice cream yesterday and she always does that for the kids who are upset. I guess the family told her they don't want me anymore, so that must be why she is treating me so nicely."

Nora's downpour enraged Angela. If she could sign those papers and adopt Nora herself, she would do that in the blink of an eye.

However, she was nowhere near the right mindset to have a child. She would soon have no home, when the Academy finished, and she might not even have a job. Everything kind of sucked for Angela at that moment.

And yet, looking into Nora's eyes, she could not imagine a reason why someone would not want to call this child their own.

"Nora, if they didn't come for you, there must be a reason for that. If it is anything bureaucratic, I don't think Mrs. Vallard is prepared to explain that to you." She said weakly.

"I didn't understand what you meant." Nora shrugged.

Her innocent way of saying that made Angie smile. It was the same way Angie herself would spontaneously just tell people when she did not understand them.

"Let me put it like this - Mrs. Vallard may not have told you what is happening, because she does not know _how_ to tell you, which words to use, how to make it simple, so that you will understand. She is your custodian and it is challenging to break certain news, especially to kids. Now, how would you feel if I asked Mrs. Vallard for an explanation instead? I'm older, I will understand her words. And I am your friend, aren't I?"

"Yes, yes! I want to be your friend!" Nora nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, as your friend I promise to come back for you and to explain everything to you. Is that okay?"

"Yes! I want to see you again!" Nora spoke while cuddling up to Angie.

"Okay, then I need you to be patient. And one more thing..." Once again Angie's hand pushed Nora's chin up, so the kid would look at her face.

"Never doubt yourself! Okay? Promise me that! Promise me you will always look in the mirror and tell yourself only good things. Compliment your hair, say you like your clothes, say you made another child smile that day, say that you have a big heart and that you deserve nothing but the best in life. Okay? Can you do that?" Angie asked.

"Is that what you did?" Nora asked, with a hidden agenda behind that question.

She knew very little about Angela, but she knew for a fact that she would like to be just like her, when she grew up. Angela was smart and nice to kids, she was funny, she always smelled good and she had pretty hair. What kid would not put her on a pedestal!? Plus, Angela was now wanted by someone amazing and all that Nora aspired to be in life was _wanted_. She needed a family who would love her, she needed someone to look at her, the way Emily looked at Angela.

So, if Angela was now giving her advice on what to do in life, Nora would surely make it a point to copy Angie's behavior up to the last tiny detail. Maybe then she would end up loved and wanted, just like Angela? Maybe Angela was doing all the right things in life, to deserve someone's love and affection?

"Yes, that is exactly what I did. At times it is hard to think of the positive side of things, but you can always find something nice to say to yourself. And I know it sounds silly, but you need to hear your own self, speaking only highly of you, before you start wishing that others would do the same. Do you understand?"

"Umm, most of it - yes. And okay, I promise." Nora perked up, suddenly feeling a boost of confidence.

"I'm cute and I have nice hair and I like coloring books with clothes and accessories. And I want to be a fashion designer one day!" Nora tried it out right away, just shooting the first positive thoughts that came to her mind.

"Perfect! This is perfect!" Angie sent a wink her way and urged her to go outside and try to get involved in one of the games.

Emily looked in their direction as soon as they walked out to the backyard.

"Girl talk?" Emily smiled, curious whether one of them would share what they had said to each other.

She already knew that it wouldn't be Angela. That girl would keep her mouth shut for ages and she would not say a word, if she didn't want to, no matter how hard someone might work, in order to get her to speak up.

"Yes. Angie said she loves monkeys. And then she told me Mrs. Vallard doesn't know how to talk to kids."

"Good God..." Angie's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "This is taken way..._way_ out of context!"

Emily laughed, watching Nora lose all interest in her as she ran off to go catch one of the boys who had dared steal her favorite toy earlier that day. She wouldn't even want to imagine what little Nora would do to him when she would eventually catch up and capture him.

"You love monkeys, huh?" Emily brought it up with Angela a few minutes later, when the other kids' loud screaming seemed to have toned down a little bit.

"Like I said - it was taken _way_ out of context." Angie replied calmly before she pretended to have tripped on something and she fell on the ground, shifting the attention to something else now.

Emily looked at her, shaking her head. When would this girl understand that to Emily she was an open book? She could run and hide, deny and deceive, but Emily would always know what is really going on in her head. Faking a fall would not make any difference to someone who was trained and had spent her entire life in reading people. It wouldn't distract her, nor make her forget the original topic of their conversation. It might, however, give her a sign that she needs to drop it and that Angela might not want to discuss a certain something with her.

"Do you want me to help you out with..._it_?" Emily chose her words wisely.

Like Hell, she wouldn't drop it so easily.

Both her and Angela knew that 'it' was not referred to the fact that Angela was still on the ground, with grass and toys all around her. That was not what Angela needed help with and she was smart enough to acknowledge that fact herself.

"No..." Angie replied weakly, sitting up comfortably, just taking a moment to herself.

Her reply seemed to have upset Emily, as she was now licking her lower lip, as if she was guilty of something.

"Not yet, at least." Angie added and that surely helped Emily start breathing normally again.

"Whenever you want me to..." Emily whispered, already extending a helping hand to Angela.

"...I'll _always_ be here for you." She finished her statement while pulling Angie up on her feet.

In her mind, this was yet another good metaphor - she wanted to be the one to help Angie stand on her own two feet, to keep her grounded and to teach her how to stand her ground in life, like a true Boss Lady.

"I'm done with people who make bogus promises..." Angie whispered back.

She was thinking of a moment in her life, many years ago, when she had begged Monkey not to give her any promises that she would not be able to commit to. And yet Monkey had promised her the world, only to go snatch that dream away from innocent young Angela.

Thinking of that, Angie suddenly let go of Emily's hand. She didn't want anyone's proximity and she didn't need anyone's pity. She also didn't want to hear any more of those promises.

"People can change..." Emily replied, retrieving her hand as it now hung awkwardly in the air between them.

"I have yet to see that."

With that announcement, Angie walked back inside the building and found Mrs. Vallard who then told her why Nora's future adoptive parents did not come for her - the father had come down the flu a few days ago and they hadn't dared risk taking the child in their home and maybe having her get sick as well. But the more pressing issue was that there had been a serious setback with the adoption agency. After a thorough look into that family's life and finances, the agency had raised their doubts whether that home would be a good placement for someone like Nora, so they were now stalling. It would take much more than a week, for those documents to receive all the signatures needed...if it ever even happened.

How was Angela supposed to tell Nora any of this!?

Mrs. Vallard explained that Nora had a problem taking bad news. She would flip out and scream and she could get a little aggressive at times. Angela tried not to sound like a know-it-all, but she knew exactly why Nora might have felt the need to act out, when given bad news.

Angie insisted on being the one to tell Nora the news and Mrs. Vallard agreed, but not before hearing about all of Angela's previous formation in the field of child psychology and development. Plus, if Angela was someone that Emily Prentiss would bring along, then she was a trustworthy person in Mrs. Vallard's eyes already.

* * *

"You're awfully quiet." Emily pointed out an hour later, as they were in her car and on their way back to Quantico.

"Just...thinking..." Angie kept her eyes on the road ahead of them as she spoke.

"The kids loved playing with you today. I'm glad you suggested that. I had fun too." Emily said with a smile.

Angie saw her tight grip on the wheel. Hell, this woman could smile all she wanted, but she wasn't going to fool her. That steering wheel looked like it was going to snap under the pressure of Emily's squeezed fingers. If it were a person, it would have taken its last breath as soon as Emily had grabbed it. Angie remembered reading some article on stress coping mechanisms and gripping onto something was one of the recommended ones. Wasn't that why stress balls existed anyway?

"Are you ready to go back to the Academy life?" Emily continued, trying to find some topic that would make Angela part her lips and maybe talk, or even just sigh.

"No." Angela kept her reply short and simple, but most importantly - honest.

"Oh, that's right, you have the cuts tonight." Emily remembered. As if that would be what was bothering Angela.

"I'm not worried about that. Not to sound bigheaded or anything, but they would be insane if they let go of someone like Angela Hunter. She's the epitome of what the Bureau wants in the Academy. I've done my research." Angie commented.

"Yeah? Is that why you invented her?" Emily dared to ask.

"What do you mean? I _am_ her. Duh!" Angie rolled her eyes and seemed completely unbothered and quite oblivious to what Emily's words were suggesting.

"Mhm..." Emily smirked.

For a smart girl, Angela sure was playing dumb in all the wrong ways. She could fool the entire world, but she could never fool Emily Prentiss.

"I can't have this conversation..." Angie then blurted out.

"Not with me?" Emily asked.

"Not _yet_." Angie corrected her.

Emily was not the problem. All along, she had been the solution to Angie's problem. But Angie wasn't ready to face it. Not yet.

Soon enough they were at Quantico and Angie found herself wanting to give some sort of a lame 'thank you' speech, now that everything was officially over. It was Sunday evening. Her week with the BAU was over.

"Save the sob speech for dinner tomorrow." Emily eased it for her, turning the awkwardness into a joke.

"And good luck with the cuts tonight." She added.

"I don't need luck. I am good enough. I've always been good enough. If someone can't see my true worth and cannot value me enough, then screw them...I don't even need them in my life." As Angie spoke, she forgot all about the cuts. That was not what, or rather _who_ she was speaking of and it was painfully obvious to Emily, too.

"Thank you." Emily's words came out of nowhere.

"For what? For offending people and animal species left and right, any chance I get?" Once again, Angie confirmed that her words had been directed towards a very specific Monkey person.

"For being _you_." Emily pointed out, refraining from adding: _and for being so damn brutally honest_.

"I wouldn't know how to be anyone else." Angie shrugged, hopping out of the car and closing the door after her, on her way to the dorm rooms building.

Angela Hunter knew how to be many people, at the same time, even. And she was damn good at it. However, to Emily Prentiss, she would always be one person and _one_ person only – that sweet, innocent girl, with a 24 carat smile, those piercing green eyes, a heart of gold, a tough character, a mind of her own and the ability to go from 'cute' to 'psycho' in two seconds. She knew her, she understood her and she would not have her any other way.

"I swear to God I've heard Reid say the same exact words before…" Emily muttered to herself before she headed back home for the night.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"Ducksdragonfly" **Hehe, short and straight to the point? :) Thank you. Hope you enjoyed this weird ride of a chapter, because...yeah, it changed from filthy to innocent and I dunno what happened. I wrote it in installments. What are the temperatures there like? We had a heatwave of like 36 degrees (celsius) all day, every day, just recently. It's gotten down to 30 now and the nights are starting to let people sleep, as the temps got a bit lower and they allow one to breathe. I'm not a fan of super high temps, which is weird as I've lived on an island with 45 degrees (celsius) at 8 in the morning lol. Every. Single. Freaking. Day :\ Ok, there goes my rant. Have a beautiful day.

**"sweetkid45"** Matt? You mean Bryan, from the Academy? Hmm, he isn't jealous, but other people sure are. Angela is working extremely hard for the job position she wants, but we'll see if that might one day be possible, because right now it is _not. _And don't worry there is LOTS of adrenaline and action coming up in future chapters. I like writing different scenes: cute, fluffy, messy, teasing, flirty, action, hurt, emotional, etc. So many chapters will have a different feel to them :)!

**"rmpcmfan"** Thank you :)! As for your assumption - I added an Author's Note at the beginning of this Chapter 105 - it explains how Emily's request was **NOT** about the budget, but about the BAU being able to welcome and intern...Angela, indirectly. Ben was definitely the ONLY one who Emily could go to and it basically all depends on him - whether he'd want to push it with the Director or stay quiet. This kind of request is absurd and really insignificant, as a favor to ask, especially after what Emily had done for this man. However, Ben understood how passionately Emily feels about it. We'll see what happens next ;)! He does, after all...and quite literally, own Emily his _life!_

You best believe Emily is a persuasive, ruthless bad ass, LOL! As I wrote certain scenes, I could just imagine Paget Brewster acting it all out - sitting there, giving someone the stink eye and letting them know, in more ways than one, that she ain't taking their shit and crappy compromises, hahaha!

WOW! Your thought/prediction is insanely cool! It would surely explain why Emily feels so strongly about this girl that seems to have just come out of nowhere.

As always, I'll be true to my teasing, secretive nature and I will not confirm, nor deny anything about this prediction :P (we don't want any spoilers, hehe).

Be on the lookout for more Monkey "appearances" soon :)!

Also, to reply your doubt from your previous review: The Academy started right after Angie's two month long Summer Sports Camp, so that was the beginning of August. I guess it would be September right now, as timeframe. And we all know what's in October - spoiler: EMILY'S BDAAAAYYYY TURN UUUUUPPPPPPP :)!


	106. This Woman Is Ready To Kill For You

** CHAPTER 106**

_**THIS WOMAN IS READY TO KILL FOR YOU**_

Monday morning started early, for Emily. She woke up at six, with a smile on her face, seeing a new message from Ben on her phone.

The smile disappeared quickly when she read what the message said.

_"__He's in Philly for the rest of the week. Can't do much now. Just wanted to update you."_

Emily groaned. This was not how she wanted her week to start. It was already going to suck, without Angela around, but she refused to let a guy contribute to that, too.

Plus, she now had the dinner party to host and she was quite excited about that.

"Good morning, team!" Emily greeted cheerfully, walking in the meeting room at 9:30.

"Good morning to you, too, you ray of sunshine!" Luke smiled at her, he liked seeing her happy. Also, he was sucking up to her after a certain inappropriate comment he had made about her lately.

Emily looked around and sensed tension after Luke's words. The only one unbothered seemed Rossi, but that was his usual demeanor.

"Someone, please, tell me what I do not know…" Emily pleaded, rolling her eyes at her colleague's absolute inability to keep a secret.

Their faces were screaming at her now, yelling that they had a secret and they were waiting for her to ask what it was.

"Luke cat-called you at the airport, the other day." Reid would always jump at a chance to embarrass Luke. It served him well, after all the times _he_ had teased Reid.

Emily's jaw dropped. How dare he? And why would he? This was both a compliment and an insult to her.

"Reid, you're a dead man!" Luke said angrily.

"And, in my defense, I had no idea it was _you_!" Luke then added, looking at Emily shyly.

"Okay…" Emily took a moment to steady herself, so that she would go back to pretending like it never happened. "Let's never mention that again, alright?"

JJ was enjoying this a little more than she should. She sat there, eyeing Luke, who was now as pale as a canvass, and then Emily, who looked confused and embarrassed, like she didn't know how to handle this.

"I kind of wish he would have cat-called Angela." Tara's words came out of the blue.

"Oh, come on, guys. Don't tell me you wouldn't have enjoyed her, making a scene at the airport, putting _this_ guy in his place?" Tara elaborated after feeling everyone's eyes on her.

"I have this theory that she'd be like a wild coyote, attacking her prey. Luke would be on the ground in two seconds and she'd be scratching the Hell out of his face and body. I, for one, would love to see that happen." Reid smirked, pushing Luke's buttons even further.

"Fun fact, which is why I picture Angela as this animal - but coyotes are small and only weigh about 20 to 50 pounds. They do, however, hunt with deadly precision. They carefully stalk their prey and run at the speed of 40 miles-per-hour, nipping at the legs of the victims that attempt to escape. When they attack, they immediately aim to kill, biting the neck and compressing the windpipe. Now, I bet you are all wondering: can a wild coyote be tamed? Technically, it would be tough to domesticate a coyote, as they are wild animals after all. The natural instinct they have developed since birth is to function wildly and to hunt aggressively and mercilessly. In the very few cases in which humans have somewhat successfully tamed a wild coyote, the process had started when the animal was still too young, hence not giving them the time to fully develop their true nature, reflexes and impulse to act on their wild desires." Reid then offered some theoretical rant on those species, in case someone else would like to close their eyes and imagine this sweet young girl as such a predator.

It was now Emily's turn to enjoy it. She suppressed a smirk, knowing perfectly well that Angela would, indeed, be a wild coyote if she had to fight. She seemed to have it in her.

"Guys? Work…" Emily reminded them and the topic changed to serial killers once again.

The team then spent the day doing all sorts of useful things, starting with optimizing their field tactics and all the way up to contemplating which color socks Garcia should buy, to go with those cute new shoes she had just ordered online.

Seeing as there weren't too many pressing issues to tend to, Emily had excused herself early, under the pretense that she had a meeting outside.

She ran a quick errand before going back home and unloading everything she had stuffed in the trunk of her car after her visit to two different supermarkets.

The next step was to close herself in the kitchen for hours.

At around six o'clock she drove back to Quantico and headed straight to the Academy.

After shooting a quick text to Dan, he informed her that Angela was still in her afternoon class, so Emily walked in the Auditorium, to wait for the class to finish.

She found Angela sitting front row and center and she smirked. Why, of course she'd chose _that_ spot, being the nerd that she was.

Angie, in turn, was so into the lecture that she failed to even notice Emily walking in and taking a seat, on the far right side of the first row.

Bryan, however, saw that.

"Hey, your Goddess is here." He nudged Angie, but she wasn't going to take her eyes off that sweet presentation their teacher was showing on the screen.

The man spoke about different interviewing and interrogation techniques. That was one of her favorite classes. He would sometimes stop and take a breath, but Emily saw Angie's lips move, as if she was continuing his sentences, impatient for him to do so himself.

"Now, forget about the offenders. Can anyone tell me the interviewing errors to avoid when dealing with multiple eyewitnesses of the same crime?" The man asked, eyeing the class.

"Anyone _but_ Trainee Hunter. Please?" He added, a second later, right before Angie's hand darted up in the air.

Emily chuckled and put her hand up instead.

"Oh?" The man raised an eyebrow and allowed Emily to take the podium.

She greeted everyone and after the man nodded at her, she took over the class, answering his question in a more hands-on way, by presenting a video of a mock crime scene, shot for educational purposes.

"Now, I need someone to come over here and help me out with a little experiment." Emily said, shooting a disapproving glance at Angela who was already on the edge of her seat, ready to volunteer.

Emily simply shook her head and Angie stood still, with a frown.

When nobody dared sacrifice themselves, since each time one had ever dared volunteer for an activity, the teachers had made complete fools out of them, publicly; Angie put her hand up in the air contently.

"Trainee Hunter, you've been benched." Emily grinned.

"No, no. I'm not doing it." Angie smirked right back at her.

"_He_ is!" She stated after tickling Bryan and making him fidget in his seat, almost standing up, making it seem like he was way too eager to volunteer for Emily's experiment.

"No, I'm not!" Bryan hissed at Angie.

"You know how good Agent Hotness smells? Mmm, don't you want to get closer?" Angie teased him.

If Bryan had to be honest with himself, he didn't even _like_ Emily like that. He had only been a dick, saying those vastly inappropriate things, just for the sake of saying something when he had first seen her. And then Angela had blown it way out of proportion, so now he had no way of escaping her little innuendos.

"Well, come on up, Bryan." Emily felt a little weird to be calling him by his first name, but she had no idea what his last name was.

He groaned unhappily and walked towards Emily, painfully slowly.

"Now, I need you to watch a short video and then answer some questions." Emily connected her phone to the screen and played something that she clearly always had on her phone, which was weird, considering it was a video of a stabbing. Well, it was one of those acted out videos, for learning purposes, so it was not a _real_ crime, but still, weird for someone to keep it on their phone.

While Bryan watched, so did the rest of the class.

"What did you see?" Emily asked at the end.

"Uh, a guy was in a house. He grabbed a knife and he attacked a woman." Bryan shrugged.

The video was only a minute long, he didn't think there was too much to it.

Being SWAT-oriented, he could tell Emily what the door was made of and exactly how he was going to kick it down, or which window he'd use to breach the house quietly, if needed. However, the more psychological side of the crime was not his forte.

"Was the knife with a black or white handle?" Emily asked.

"Uh…black. As far as I could remember."

"Did the victim know the perpetrator?"

"I have no idea. I guess not…"

"How do you think the perpetrator got to the house? Did he drive? Was he on foot?"

"I saw him walking in and that's all."

"What time of the day did the attack happen?"

"It was light outside, so I guess it was during the day, maybe early afternoon…"

Emily shook her head. She hadn't expected Bryan to do so badly.

"Now, can someone, please, give me the answers I need?" She challenged, looking at the other Trainees.

There was something intimidating about her presence, so nobody volunteered, even if quite a few people felt confident that they knew the right answers.

"Trainee Angela Hunter?" Emily sighed and, in the end, was forced to call Angela on the podium.

"Oh, thank God!" Angie muttered to herself, thankful that this time it didn't look like she was being a nerd, but she rather got called in by the teacher.

"What did you see?" Emily mirrored her first question to Bryan.

"The façade of a house, situated in an extra urban area, with the newspaper still outside, so it must have been way before noon. Not too early in the morning, though, as it was bright and sunny outside already and this was around Easter time, as there were decorations around the house, so during these months of the year this kind of a bright sun does not rise too early in the morning. Then there was the UnSub - a white male in his late 30's, tall, well-built, with short dark hair and a scar on his right hand. He walked to the porch and opened the door, which was already unlocked. So, the victim might have previously left the door open for someone, indicating that she might know her perpetrator and she might have expected him to come over." Angie spoke confidently.

"Scar?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, once he walks in, he goes by a small table in the hallway and he lets his car keys drop on it and that's when the scar is visible. It looks like a bad attempt to get rid of a tattoo of a circle, with two triangles on top, like Mickey Mouse ears, but triangle shaped. Also, he most definitely drove there, otherwise he wouldn't have his car keys in his hand." Angie then shut her eyes for a second, recalling other important details.

"He must have known which way the kitchen was, because he went there first and he also knew where the knives were. At this point we could draw the conclusion that the victim must have had young children in the house because there were no knives, scissors or any sharp objects just laying around on the counter, but they were tucked away in a drawer above the sink. The murder weapon was a sharp knife, about fifteen centimeters long, pointy tip and a slightly curved handle. All metal, light grey. I'm sure of it because during that scene, the light fell on the knife and I remember it shining for a second, so I noticed the color."

"Did the victim-…" Emily started off, but Angela was too fast to answer.

"Yes, she must have known the perpetrator. When he went to her room, she could hear the door opening, but it took her a couple of seconds to turn around and see who it was. So, she must have been expecting someone, if she wasn't scared by the noise. And when she turned around, she didn't seem freaked out, until she saw the knife. She fell back, on the bed, which indicates she was comfortable with this man, seeing her on the bed, also since she was only wearing her underwear under the robe. So, this points to a possible sexual connection between the victim and the perpetrator. But not a current relationship. It all felt shush-shush. Maybe ex-lovers?"

"Maybe one of them was married and the other one was the lover?" Emily suggested.

"In that case, I would have already told you about a ring on someone's finger. And there was none." Angie smiled, because otherwise her confidence would come off way too cocky and arrogant.

"How many times was the victim stabbed?"

"Three. The first stab was in the lower abdomen and it was quite shallow, like he was just testing to see what would happen. This indicates that he is not skilled with the blades and he might not have previous victims, at least not human ones. He then moved up to her stomach and this time it seemed more violent, he applied more pressure. But she was still alive, so he swung a third time, this time opting straight for the heart. Clearly, this was a lust-driven crime."

"Okay, now…you can never jump to a conclusion so easily." Emily put her hand on her gun, reminding Angela who the superior one was. The girl needed to calm down a bit and realize that there is always space for a mistake.

"Everything you just said is true…" Emily continued. "Except the conclusion. Now, a rushed conclusion like this might throw the entire investigation off."

Angie bit her bottom lip, trying to figure out what her mistake was.

"Now, Bryan's mistake was that he never took a moment to recall what he had seen. This cannot happen! As an Agent, you should have your eyes open and scanning everything, everywhere, remembering every little detail. You must always stay vigilant, otherwise it wouldn't even matter if you caught the criminal, if your sloppy investigative work gets your case thrown, in court afterwards. You need that strong evidence. You need to be sure. You need to make the jury believe you and you cannot do that without details. Lots of them." Emily pointed out.

"And, as an investigator, you should know the protocol. You must be highly skilled, when questioning a witness. People believe you should only ever be careful while interrogating a _suspect_, but that you can be somewhat lenient with the witnesses. Wrong. _Very_ wrong!" Emily smiled and saw the other teacher smirking at her, with a knowing look on his face.

She was most definitely saying all those things to trigger a response and the fact that she looked around the room, scanning for faces who had something to say, confirmed that theory.

Angie was now looking at Emily, clearly something was bothering her. Everyone else just looked either unbothered, hence they didn't understand a thing of what Emily was trying to achieve; or unprepared to stand up to an authority figure if they did, indeed, figure out Emily's 'mistake'.

"If I may…?" Angie spoke up. "All due respect, but your interviewing technique was not up to the Bureau standards!"

Some Trainees gasped at the nerve Angie had, to call Emily out like that.

Emily remained calm and collected, just glaring at Angie, as if she was daring her to continue speaking.

"Now, first of all, you started with an open question that was a bit _too_ open. A normal person wouldn't know how to start telling you _everything_ that they saw. Even a Trainee failed to do so." Angie said.

"_You_ didn't." Emily pointed out.

Her first question to both of them had been the same. Angela had replied perfectly.

"But _he_ did." Angie pointed at Bryan, knowing that she'd have to make it up to him afterwards, for throwing him under the bus, in front of everyone.

"And he's not stupid. He's just intimidated by you, as an authority figure, so you should have known that and adjusted your interviewing technique, so that he would feel more comfortable talking to you. You had your hand on your gun the entire time you spoke to him, but you were smiling and understanding when you spoke to me." Angie took a step forward, closing the distance between them, showing that she was not afraid of Emily's higher standing status.

"Then you gave him a misleading question, when he was already feeling vulnerable and confused. One should always be careful with option-imposed questions. How could you be sure the knife was either black or white? Hence, how can you be sure the witness' reply would be correct, if you don't believe in your options? Maybe he saw a red knife? Maybe the first knife he touched, was not the murder weapon after all?"

Emily tried to remain calm, she tried so damn hard not to show how proud she was of Angela for stepping up and speaking her mind. Yes, it was bold, but if an Agent was in the wrong, like Emily had intentionally pretended to be, it was always a good idea for another Agent to knock some sense into them. God knows Emily had been corrected a million times, by her colleagues, and there were no hard feelings afterwards, as long as the job ended up being done well.

"I appreciate the feedback, Trainee Hunter. Now let's discuss where _you_ went wrong, shall we?" Emily tried to intimidate Angela.

"Yes, please." Angie said calmly, genuinely wanting to hear her feedback, even if it was negative.

Emily sighed. Could _anything_ really get to that girl? How was she so cool with the fact that she had done something wrong? She seemed confident in herself, yet she had no problem hearing she had failed.

"Your mistake was to let yourself believe in the sexual component. Yes, she was in her underwear and yes, her instincts made her seek comfort in her own bed. However…" Emily started, but Angie wanted to come up with it, on her own.

"However, their non-verbal interaction does not suggest a sexual relationship. It was more…pure, the way she looked at him, like she knew him. Like she had known him her whole life…" Angie shut her eyes for a second, mentally replaying the ending of the video once again.

"Lower abdomen, stomach and heart. This was not lust-driven. This was personal, on a different level. Lust would have made him attack her reproductive organs only, as a part of his statement, his reason for killing her. But he didn't. He stabbed low, but not in _that_ area. Why wouldn't he?" Angie thought out loud.

"Also, why not go for the heart first, if killing her was the primary aim?" Angie continued. "No. This was about revenge. He wanted her to suffer. He wanted her to be alive, to watch him inflict pain on her, before he finished her off."

Bryan just stood there, shooting glances between Emily and Angela. It looked heated, between them, the way they'd throw words at each other, challenge each other and then try to work things out in perfect collaboration.

"Family…" Angie whispered to herself.

"Speak up, Trainee." Emily urged her, as she overheard something valid.

"Family. This is about family. After the first stab, the girl tilted her head sideways and her eyes laid on a photo, on the bedside table. It was of her and another man, a blonde man, and two kids with dark hair, like hers. They didn't look like they were the biological kids of the man in the photo…" Angie remembered more.

"Scratch lust. I would like to completely discard my absurd initial statement. This is about family." Angie stated.

"In what way?" Emily knew the answers, but she wanted Angela to come to the conclusion herself.

"I don't know…" Angie shrugged, once again completely unbothered by the fact that she was, in a way, nearly admitting defeat against Emily Prentiss.

"Is something missing?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I don't think we can draw any more conclusions from this video until and unless we know more." Angie said softly.

"Like what?" Emily kept on asking, indirectly urging Angela to realize something.

"Victimology! Oh my God, I'm an idiot! Every crime starts with the victim!" Angie stated, wanting to be able to facepalm herself and not make it look weird. She then decided to not do that at all.

"We need background on the victim, so we can continue looking at the crime and have a better understanding of it." Angie said.

"That is correct. Now, how would our understanding of this crime change, if I told you that the photo was, indeed, of the victim and her long-term co-living boyfriend, none of whom were cheating, and their two children." Emily only gave her a little piece of the puzzle.

"Makes no sense, honestly. The photo already speaks for itself. And those kids don't look like the blonde man at all." Angie shook her head.

"Wait. The perpetrator was dark-haired, like the victim…" Angie added.

"Okay…continue?" Emily leaned back against a desk, waiting for Angela to fully blossom.

"May I, please, have information on the victim's family? I mean, her background – parents, siblings, cousins?" Angie requested in the most formal and absurd way possible.

Sometimes she'd come out with this formal way of speaking, even if she was saying something to a friend. It usually left Bryan a bit confused when she did that to him, right after calling him 'bro' just minutes before she went full on formal on him.

Emily, however, found that endearing.

"Yes. Now, the parents are retired, they still live in Florida. Both parents are only children, so no aunts, uncles or cousins and not much extended family. Victim has a brother, who was-…" Emily got cut off once again.

"In prison!" Angie continued Emily's sentence. "That tattoo. It's a prison gang thing, the circle and two triangles. It's the Chicharreros!"

"The _what_?" Bryan whispered.

"Chicharreros is a name given to the inhabitants of the island of Tenerife, in the Canary Islands. Originally, it was the name given to the inhabitants of the city Santa Cruz de Tenerife by inhabitants of neighboring San Cristóbal de La Laguna in reference to the former eating the cheap fish chicharro." Angie had another Reid moment, but Bryan had basically asked for it.

"What's the connection?" Emily asked.

"The Chicharreros are against the Mexican Mafia. They have their own thing going, with drugs, and they try to screw the Mexicans up, each chance they get. That tattoo is their symbol. When one first joins them, they only get the ring. Then, they have to move up levels and with each level, they get a new triangle, added to the ink. The perpetrator only had two, so he must not have spent more than three, maybe four years in jail. It's hard to move up in the chain, when locked up. The dares are sometimes brutal and request time and premeditation, so the jail is a bit of a problem for that gang." Angie continued.

"Focus on the kids…" Emily suggested, giving her a little hint.

"They looked about…three…four years old. Twin boys." Angie pointed out. "Hey, that fits the timeline. Wait a minute…"

Emily was going to wait a minute. An hour. A lifetime even. For Angela… She would only ever wait for _her_ and nobody else.

She sat there quietly, just looking at Angie's facial expressions as she drew her conclusions.

"I know we already threw lust out the window, but…incest?" Angie suggested.

Emily shook her head. "Think harder."

"Well, if she is the mother, but the blonde man is not the father…and the kids look like the perpetrator as well…" Angie trailed off for a second. "Is it possible that she is not the mother, either? Yes, they look like her, but…"

"Mhm?" Emily smirked, throwing her favorite '_mhm_' line at Angie, just to rattle her up.

"The killer was the victim's brother! That's why she felt so comfortable around him, even if she wasn't dressed properly. You said their parents are 'still' in Miami, so if that is where they grew up, they would have been around each other, in bathing suits, all the time. She didn't feel the need to hide her body from him, as she was covered by the robe in all the right places."

Emily smiled, just a tiny little bit.

"Kids, Angela…" Emily reminded her.

"Yes, the kids. The victim is not the mother. The perpetrator is the father, that's why they look like both of them. Victim and perpetrator might be twins themselves, as the so called 'twin gene' is hereditary. And given the kids' age, they must have been born right about the time the perpetrator went to jail. Something may have happened to their biological mother, or she didn't want the kids, so the sister - our victim, took full custody and it must not have been hard to obtain that, given that the father was in jail. Now, about the stab wounds, this explains a lot. He went for the lower abdomen first, then for the stomach, figuratively killing both children that she was raising, children that belong to _him_ instead. He wanted to teach her a lesson, to show her that it is wrong to steal someone else's children. And then, driven by his rage, and only after his victim had suffered the two metaphorical losses, he killed her, inflicting the biggest form of revenge he was capable of." Angie exhaled at the end of it, realizing her forehead was now sweating and her heart was beating fast.

She loved those sensations.

"Great job, Trainee Angela Hunter." Emily finally allowed herself to smirk, extending her hand and shaking Angie's hand for a second before she turned to do the same with Bryan, out of respect.

Angie was about to turn around and go take her place, when she heard Emily clear her throat, as if she was reminding her of something.

"Oh, yes." Angie looked at Bryan, all sweet and innocent, which should have given him the hint that she was plotting something. "What color was the knife handle, Bryan?"

"Light grey, all metal." He shot out instantly, much more convinced in his answer now, than he was when he had answered Emily earlier. His reply also changed completely, after hearing Angie say those words with so much confidence.

Angie smirked and looked at Emily, who rewound the tape to the moment when a knife with a black handle appeared for a good three seconds, leaving no space for doubt about its color.

"But…I don't understand…" Bryan said, confused.

"And this is an example of the co-witness syndrome, sometimes also called 'the false memory syndrome'. In order to retrieve unbiased information about a crime, one should never question more than one witness, at a time. They tend to merge memories together and to believe what the other person saw, thus later giving false information to us, investigators, without even realizing it. Bryan, you answered her question truthfully, the first time. And your memory did not fail you – the knife _was_ black. But then you heard me, speaking about a metal knife, so sure of myself, that you let your memory play tricks on you and you decided to believe _me_, instead of your own instincts and memory." Angie said softly, so that it wouldn't sound too embarrassing for Bryan to hear it.

She had _so_ planned this, from the moment she spoke about the knife's color earlier. Moreover, Emily had suspected this might have been Angie's plan all along, so she never corrected her about the color. Emily was somewhat guilty about Bryan being humiliated like this, for educational purposes, but she was content with how Angie's little trick had played out and what it had taught the other Trainees.

"Yes, in fact 86%, so the vast majority of eyewitnesses of the same crime, tend to discuss what they had seen, with the number one reason - to provide information, compare details of the event. Co-witness information is extremely influential! They can learn unreliable information either directly from another eyewitness, or indirectly through a third party – let's say, from a police officer who puts a question in the wrong way. They can also receive post event information through the media and different outlets." Emily decided to put Angie's words a bit more academically and then she kind of spun out of control by rambling about the topic.

"In the end, eyewitnesses reliably and consistently report information they have heard from other witness, or indirectly, which makes our job as investigators extremely difficult. That is why we need classes like this one, so we can learn and practice our technique, build our own way of figuring out which information is reliable and accurate and which parts of what we hear have been altered by someone else. And this right here is the tricky part, as most of the times eyewitnesses rely on each other's memories and they incorporate pieces of information into their own memories of the event in question, without knowing whether they are true or false. That is why those of us who are on the investigative or juridical side of the crime, insist that, when possible, the eyewitnesses would be separated and instructed not to discuss the event with one another. And yet, no matter what we do and how hard we try, it has proven to be an extremely difficult task to reduce memory bias when dealing with eyewitness testimony of two or more people, in connection to the same crime."

"Ugh…" Bryan groaned to himself, happy to see Emily motion for them to take their seats after she had basically ganged up with Angela, with the sole purpose of destroying him in front of everyone.

"I'm going to murder you!" He whispered to Angie, on their way to the first row.

"And you better believe I'm going to investigate the crap out of that, too." Emily replied to him, making his blood freeze.

How could she have heard? Yes, they were close, but he was whispering.

Something about the way she said it, made him believe he'd be in trouble, if anything should ever happen to Angela.

"Awwh, stop pouting." Angie nudged him, as soon as they sat down and he was practically giving her the cold shoulder.

"Can't help it that I'm adorable and people like me." She shrugged innocently.

"It's not about _liking_ you." Bryan sighed. "This woman is ready to _kill_ for you!"

"Like I said, I'm a very adorable person." Angie had this way of exaggerating, dramatizing, making things sound bigger and more colorful. Bryan found that to be stress-relieving, but only in cases in which he was not directly involved.

"Deep down, you are a monster, Angela Hunter." He laughed, sure that there was more to that innocent smile of hers.

If only he knew…

Emily tagged along with the teacher for the rest of the class. She explained that her little experiment served to show that there are many aspects of a crime and that witness questioning was not an easy task. It had to coordinate with an already ongoing victimology investigation and so many other things. The teacher then reminded everyone of the proper way to handle a questioning – how the questions should be formed, how to establish a connection with the witness first, how to make them feel comfortable, which is what Emily had intentionally not done with Bryan, so to prove her point later on.

Thirty minutes after Emily had joined the class, it was over. She was glad to see how many people were upset to find out the class was done. Have they been paying attention? Did they really like the class? Was she actually good at teaching? She never really thought of herself as a teacher. She was more of a mentor figure and of course – a Leader.

* * *

"We really need to change…and shower!" Angie pointed out as her and Bryan walked out of the Auditorium and saw Emily, leaning against the hallway wall, waiting for them.

"Not a problem. We can stop by your home first." Emily said, not really choosing her words well.

"It's not my home." Angie shot out quickly, sounding a bit defensive.

Bryan was completely oblivious to that, but Emily was not.

They went to the dorms and Emily sat down on the couch, to wait for them to get ready. She had insisted on driving them to her house, for dinner.

Angie took a shower first, as she was feeling gross after the lunch break work out with the boys. Lately, they had formed their little group of six, who worked out any chance they had. The boys were giving Angie a run for her money, as they all came from athletic backgrounds and two of them had been in the Marine Corps. But she loved it. She did not see them as competition. They were nothing but an inspiration, a motivation for her to do better, jump higher, do more pull ups, run faster, punch harder.

"So…" Emily broke the silence, noticing how Bryan felt extremely uncomfortable in her presence, now that he was in a minuscule room, with her, alone, as Angie was taking her damn time in the shower.

"Agent Prentiss, I need to clear this up. I really don't like you like _that_. Angela is known to embellish things and I can't seem to make her stop doing that. I swear, I respect you, I like you as a person and I like the way you are treating my closest friend here. But it does _not_ go beyond that!" Bryan said, barely even looking at her.

Emily's only reaction was to laugh.

"Well, this was not what I wanted to talk to you about, but okay…" She had to bite her lips, in order to stop laughing. "I appreciate what you just said, for the record."

"Then, what were you going to say? Just say it. I'm not a profiler, I have no idea…" He forced a smile, now glad that Emily had taken his awkward little confession so well.

"How is she doing?" She asked.

"She's great. Well, at most disciplines, really. She suffers with calculations and tactical driving. She's sure she'd flank those exams. Statistical analysis is also something she's not good at, but she tries her best-…" Bryan was then shushed by Emily's blank stare.

"Wait, am I missing out on something?" He asked.

Was that not what Emily had just asked him about?

"Please don't waste an application field, writing down the name of _any_ profiling Unit." She chuckled lightly.

He was so clueless as to what Emily really wanted to know.

"Wouldn't even dream of it! Angela would skin me alive and probably at my bones like a pitbull." He laughed.

Emily raised an eyebrow, playing him.

"For her, there's only _one_ Unit in the whole Bureau. She wouldn't let me speak about options. She wants _one_ thing and _that_ thing only. I'd be damned if I ever applied for the only spot she wants." He cleared up.

"Oh, what's that?" Emily pushed it.

"You're the profiler. You tell me." Bryan was, clearly, good at games as well.

Emily rolled her eyes and decided to let him think he had this victory. He had no idea who he was trying to play.

"Bryan…" Emily stood up and took two steps towards him, lowering her voice.

"How is she _really_ doing?"

This time, he understood the question behind her words.

"She's strong. She never lets anyone mess with her. She's always prepared and she always jokes. She makes people around her feel comfortable. Makes them trust her…" He started.

"Mhm?" Emily's favorite line urged him to continue.

"But…" Bryan was now torn between the truth and his loyalty to Angie.

But since Angie never wanted to speak to him about that stuff, he figured it wouldn't really be 'betrayal' if he let Emily know about his suspicions. After all, wasn't Emily someone who cared about Angela?

"She's sad. I can see her smiling and I know at times she's forcing that smile, as if she wants to fool people that she's okay. Something is going on with her and I've tried asking, but she'd always turn that into one of her little jokes and then she'd change the topic and pretend like I never asked the question. I know I can't push her to speak to me, I have no right to do so. I have enough skeletons in my closet to know what the burden of holding secrets can do to someone. But she's only twenty three…"

"She's not like any other twenty three year old, Bryan." Emily reminded him.

"I know. But I feel like she's been through something traumatizing and she's now overcompensating by trying to make everyone around her feel good. If that makes any sense…"

"It makes perfect sense. It's a coping mechanism. It's hard to keep up with it. At first, it makes you feel good. Then, at some point, it stops working, but you keep going. And then, no matter what you do, you keep dragging yourself down, you keep feeling alone and you lose all desire to connect to someone, to share your troubles with them, to speak openly about your trauma. And then, if you are strong enough, you become a different person. A weak one, but still strong enough to keep up appearances. And she's strong… You and I both know she's strong…" Emily sounded like she spoke from experience.

"So, that means she's even more torn apart on the inside, than what I thought?" Bryan pouted.

He knew Angela had her daemons, but Emily's words were making it sound like a much bigger and deeper issue.

"I have no idea what is going on inside Angela Hunter, but I can only imagine it's something dark that consumes her. Now, if I had to give you a piece of advice – stop pushing it. Just…be there for her. Sooner or later, she'd crack under the pressure. She'd break down and then she's going to need someone to hold her, to pretend like they could help push that pain away. That could only be _you_, for Angela. Be strong, for her. Be her friend. Smile, let her entertain you. Let her smile and pretend. And then, when she breaks down, let her cry on your shoulder, Bryan. She is really going to need that."

"Wow, you really _are_ good at this!" Bryan let out a sigh.

"Seriously? I'm Unit Chief. You best believe I'm _great_ at this!" Emily laughed at the way he just randomly realized just how good profilers were at reading people.

A moment later, Angie nearly kicked the bathroom door down, on her way out of the bathroom.

Emily looked at her, a bit scandalized. That towel around her waist barely covered…anything.

"What? He's seen me naked plenty of times." Angie smirked, walking over to her side of the wardrobe, which was 90% of the wardrobe in the dorm anyway.

Bryan grabbed his towel and his clothes, intending on walking out of the bathroom fully clothed, unlike Angela. For Emily's sake, of course.

"Seen you naked…?" Emily raised an eyebrow once she was alone with Angela.

"Underwear. Bathing suit. Yeah, every day." Angie explained, placing the new blue dress on her bed.

"Are you two…?" Emily blushed a bit.

"I told you, there is never going to be _anything_ between Bryan and me. Now stop pretending like you haven't profiled it out of me yet."

"Profiled what?" Emily sighed.

"That I haven't slept with Bryan and that I have no desire to do so, ever in my life."

With a shrug, Emily sat on the edge of Angela's bed, now watching her get ready.

When Angie had to put her clothes on, Emily turned around and pretended to be interested in the first object she found, just so that Angie would have her privacy. Not that she felt embarrassed to get dressed in front of her anyway.

And then, Emily actually took interest in that object.

It was a pink glittery box, sitting on the bedside table by Angie's bed. The top lid was cracked open and Emily slowly took the box in her hands and peeked inside.

Angie noticed that and she didn't care.

Emily's hand brushed against something, inside the box. She then took the little object out and smiled.

"We are _not_ having another heated emotional conversation. Please?" Angie sighed, already sensing how this would end.

Emily's hand trailed down the object and she smiled, treating Angela with silence and treating her own self with memories.

Two minutes later, Angie was now fully dressed, sitting on the bed, brushing her hair and then extending her hand to grab her small make-up pouch and mirror.

Emily still held the object in her hands. In silence.

Complete silence…

"It changed my life forever…" Angie finally spoke, in regards to what that object symbolized.

She was now sitting, with her back at Emily, but she knew Emily wouldn't have let go of the thing. She was, after all, a future profiler herself.

"It's like…I was born again. Like…I was given a second chance in life. And then a third one, too." Angie licked her lips. Why did they suddenly feel so dry?

"I know the feeling…" Emily trailed off.

They would always trail off when they spoke. By now it almost felt like 'their thing' - all the trailing off, all the things left unexplained…unspoken even.

"Why did you say that it has to be Bryan?" Angie now completely changed the topic, taking Emily off-guard.

"You heard all that?" Emily gasped.

"I'm training for the FBI. It would be extremely unprofessional of me to not be alert at all times. Always vigilant, always looking for clues…isn't that what you said earlier, in class?" Angie smirked, even if Emily was not able to see her face.

"Do you have to take _all_ of my words so literally?" Emily laughed.

"Not _all_. I mean, those innuendos I don't want to hear more of, nor analyze. And I'm never taking up French knitting!" Angie laughed as well.

"Are you going to be ready soon? Tara just texted, saying she's on her way. And she drives fast!" Emily changed topic, but Angie was smarter.

"I'll be done exactly two seconds after you answer my question." She said calmly, applying mascara and then finishing her look with some pink blush.

"Bryan is the only person who is close to you right now. And you need someone to be there for you-…" Emily got interrupted.

"When I break down? Ha…" Angie let out a dry laugh. "Give me some credit. I'm tougher than I look."

"No, you're not." Emily countered right away, finally making Angie turn around and face her, realizing she still had that object in her hands.

"You'll crack and when you do, it will be messy…difficult for you to understand. And _so_ impossible to go through, without the support of someone who loves you and cares about you. Isn't Bryan the only such person?" Emily was harsh, but Angie needed to hear those words.

"No. As a matter of fact, he is not!" Angie decided to be harsh too. She told the truth.

Emily smiled weakly. Good. It was good that Angela considered the possibility of there being another person who loved her and cared about her.

Bryan then got out of the shower and saw Angie putting her shoes on.

On his way to grab his wallet, now fully clothed, he saw Emily holding an object, very dear to Angie's heart.

"Put that down." He whispered to Emily. "She's going to kill you if she saw you touching that. She guards it with her life!"

Emily chuckled.

Oh, Bryan was clueless.

Emily then obeyed and put the object on Angie's bedside table.

She let her finger once again go up and down the object, taking in the beauty of the tiny metal miniature of the Eiffel Tower.

* * *

"Oh, shoot!" Bryan muttered when they were finally outside, getting in Emily's car.

"What did you forget this time?" Angie rolled her eyes.

So typical of him to forget things. She had to constantly remind him to take things with him for training. He was even capable of forgetting to put shoes on his feet sometimes.

"Yeah. You know, you two should go. Give me the address and I'll drive there a little after you." He said, handing Emily his phone.

"What, you don't want the digits, too?" Angie smirked and Emily slapped her shoulder.

"Hey! You only said I should behave in front of your team!" Angie pouted and then waved at Bryan.

Emily drove off and five minutes later she could not hold it in anymore.

"Say it." She urged Angela.

"Fine. He's so adorable! He just wanted to give me more time with you and he also wanted to have his own car there, so he could drive us back home…so that you can have some wine with the dinner and not worry about accompanying us back to Quantico. That's just…awwh!" Angie formed a heart with her fingers and she smiled.

She loved how thoughtful Bryan was.

"Yeah, I thought the same thing." Emily laughed, rolling the window down a little, to get some fresh air.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"rmpcmfan"** Hey :) Yes, Nora is little miss cutie pie, but with a very troubled little soul. Angie could relate, in a way, and she feels her pain, which is why Emily knew she should let _her_ go calm Nora down when they saw her upset. Emily has a reason not to be able to adopt Nora, but she is going to do everything in her power to place her in a good home and to still be part of her life after that.

Lol sorrrrrry for the frustration :) It was intentional hehe. I like how convinced everyone is that Monkey is a woman...It could literally be _anyone_ from the story. I will tease that you most definitely **know** the person already, so I WON'T pull a magic trick and have Monkey be someone you have never even seen or heard of (now _that_ would be just mean!) I will also be sweet and confirm that yes Monkey is with the FBI and yes, there was extensive travel in their past and a very plausible reason for leaving young "Angela" behind, against their own will. However, people don't just know these things about Monkey, so again...it could be anyone.

Clara!? Hmm, well she is an anthropologist and the show spoke about her travel history around the world. And she does seem to have a weird bond with Angie, whom she "just met as a professor, at the Academy". So I dunno...maybe one of the next chapters will give you some more clarity, as it is all Angie-Clara oriented. Also Alana De La Garza (actress who plays Clara Seger) is a stunningly beautiful woman! Moreover, I love the fact that Emily has kept such an old friendship going, as it shows how much she cares about the people she loves. All in all, this show was goals when it came to female friendships and I wish real life was more like this and less like the catty mess that girls always create. End of rant. Lol :P

Actually, I'll add that Emily wants the **entire** BAU to be at the dinner, which is why she changed the date, as Matt was unable to attend. She'll drag JJ's ass to that dinner, or someone else will do so, but JJ better not skip that! Also, dinner will be in the next chapter. What do you think might happen? Will Emily order take-away? If a dinner is Emily's way of appreciating Angela after this week together, then what would be Angie's little gesture?

**"Nichole"** Hello again. If it helps I shall honestly say that** I ADORE JJ**! She is my second favorite character, after Emily and she plays a _**HUGE**_ part in the story. I confirm JJ is going to crush goals at the BAU until the last day the Unit exists! And her friendship with Emily is GOALS, as it shows how two strong women can be there for each other without cattiness and quarrels. It's going to be a theme throughout the entire story, I ain't ruining that! However, JJ is in an extremely vulnerable place right now, so if she acts out or acts reserved, she has her reasons. I needed her to have some major problems going on right now and it all ties up with the outcome or a certain story arc later. Remember that "all is NOT as it seems", so maybe JJ does not "hate" Angela and vice versa. You will have an explanation for those interactions when the time is right :)! But to sum it up: I do NOT hate JJ and I am NEVER going to mess with Emily/JJ's amazing bond!

Like the disclaimer of this story says, it has a "MAJOR MYSTERY FACTOR THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE STORY". I'm not "playing" anyone :) I just enjoy reading mystery/crime genres, where I read a story and I come to my own conclusions and predictions and then it turns out something **way** bigger has been going on the entire time! So this is what I am creating in my own words here. It's definitely not everyone's cup of tea hehe and that's okay. I want everyone to find stories/genres that make them happy and relax them, because we all read as a leisure activity and I'd hate for someone to waste their time reading something that does not make them happy :) Also practically everyone who has ever msged me wants Angie to turn out to be connected to Emily in some way and honestly...not confirming or denying anything, but that would make sense and I would be happy if that was to be the outcome of my story. Also, Angie is not a super human and she is **definitely** not going to get things for granted. She works her butt off and she is goal oriented and focused, which I personally admire. Yes, she is super tough on the outside, but there is a whooooooole side to her that is only about to come out, which kind of melts that "super tough Angie" idea. I don't want to spoil more :P. But if you don't like the story or where you think it might be going (I'm fairly certain you will despise where the story is going, judging by what I've learned that you like/dislike so far hehe, which is okay because everyone has different tastes), I hope you find something more fitted for what **you** personally enjoy reading. No harsh feelings :) I choose my books/stories with maximum precision and I don't like to commit to reading something that annoys me hehe, so I completely understand your point of view, girlie :) Be safe, wherever in the world you might be right now.

**"sweetkid45"** Hey, no worries. You probably got Bryan mixed up with Matt Simmons, as he has been mentioned more lately. JJ's personal issues at home are making her all sorts of snappy right now. She's actively ignoring Angela, which is exactly what Angela has done to her since they first met. They both have their reasons and you will learn about them later on. Things between them might shift, though. They might not end up hating each other, but rather becoming friends? Or not? Hehe, you'll see! JJ is stressed out because of what Will, her husband, did and because Henry got kicked out of school and Mickey has his arm in a cast from when he accidentally got pushed to the ground by his brother Henry. So, while working a very stressful job, JJ is also trying to restore the balance at home, but is finding it difficult. So, she doesn't want to put herself in more situations where she would feel bad and that's why she doesn't want to go to the dinner, as she thinks Angela does not like her, so she doesn't want to feel awkward and unwanted. Hope this explanation makes it a bit more clear :)! Point is - JJ will definitely be the kick ass strong JJ later on in the story, but right now she is having some drama. Also, thank you for the kind words :)!


	107. With Her, I Mean, With You!

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

The bow hair clip moment is for reader/reviewer **"zhangxinna"** who joked about such a scene, a while ago. I hope you enjoy my take on it. I waited for a while, to make it special, to make it have a meaning for both Angie and Emily and maybe make it be a cute, memorable moment.

* * *

**CHAPTER 107**

_**WITH HER. I MEAN, WITH YOU!**_

"Wow…" Angie gasped when she walked in Emily's apartment.

"What, you like this place?" Emily asked in disbelief.

Looking around, she confirmed what she already thought of her own apartment - it was plain and boring. She didn't even like it, herself.

"Not really. No." Angie once again showered her with the unfiltered truth.

"I mean, it's like…super clean. Is Emily Prentiss a maniac of some sort?" Angie walked further in and loved the lack of dust on the surfaces she noted.

"…of some sort." Emily replied with a smirk, making Angie wonder if this was yet another innuendo.

Which, it was.

"Can I see your room?" Angie asked curiously.

Someone's bedroom really spoke about the person and she had no problem invading Emily's privacy by asking to see it.

"Sure." Emily walked her there and stood by the door as Angie walked further in.

Emily then made a quick trip to the kitchen, to make sure everything would be ready for when the other guests would start to arrive.

Angie's eyes laid on the bed, first. It was big and it looked like it had one of those comfortable mattresses, the memory foam kind. It had been a while since Angela had slept on one of those.

The next thing she noticed was the wardrobe. It was big and all the doors were closed, so she couldn't peak inside and see if Emily Prentiss really had the obsessive-compulsive disorder that she thought she did.

The night lamp was cute - gold, with the letter E on it. Tacky, but so cute. JJ had bought it for Emily a while ago.

On the bedside table, next to the lamp, she saw a book and she smiled wide. It was one she had never read before and it was in French.

"Yes, you can borrow that." Emily said silently, just coming back from the kitchen, anticipating what Angie was clearly mustering courage to ask for.

Angie nodded in appreciation and she let her fingers trail along the cover of the book, as if she was caressing it.

Emily could tell that Angie had a lot of respect for books. She could only imagine all the research and hard work, all the editing and all the hassle an author had to go through before actually publishing their work. It was one more reason why she worshiped Rossi and all of his literary achievements.

Her eyes then continued their curious tour.

There was a full-length mirror in the corner of the room, right next to the big window. Angie cringed, she hated bright light. She was more of a night person – 'a night owl with a dark soul', as someone from her past had once called her.

The walls were plain beige color and Angie was sure she'd go insane if she ever had to spend more than five minutes, closed in there. It was so…impersonal. Empty. Colorless. This room, and the entire apartment really, did not have a soul. They didn't have the flair that she saw in Emily Prentiss.

"What's the verdict?" Emily asked curiously, knowing she was in for a run each time she asked Angela for her opinion.

"It does _not_ look like a home." Angie stated.

"It does not _feel_ like home…" Emily corrected her.

"What's missing then? I mean, apart from color, decorations, you know, candles, personal items, photos, _anything_ at all?" Angie asked bluntly, looking around and imagining all the possible things she could enlist as 'missing' from that place.

Emily laughed genuinely.

"A family." She replied.

"Then go get yourself one!"

_'__Bless Angie's innocent way of thinking and her naïve twenty three year old mind'_ – Emily thought to herself.

"I've tried to…" Emily shrugged and her eyes inadvertently laid on a picture, sat on the window frame, on the opposite side of the bed from where the bedside table was.

"Wow, you look so young." Angie was quick enough to notice where Emily's gaze went and she grabbed the photo in her hands.

It was also the _only_ photo, framed and kept in a visible place, in her room.

"Okay, you really need to stop commenting on my age." Emily sighed, feeling old.

"It was a compliment, come on now." Angie whispered, without looking at Emily.

Her eyes were now busy, analyzing the photo.

It stood awkwardly, a bit sideways and a bit crooked, in the middle of the frame. It had also been torn apart, with the left side of it now missing.

The person on the photo was Emily, years ago, standing in front of a beautiful, gracious fountain. It must have been taken in the Spring, as there were flowers everywhere. The water was dark green and a few lilies had grown in it. To anyone, it would look dirty, but to Angie it looked perfect.

In the photo Emily was holding a piece of paper in her hand, as if she was proudly showing it to the camera. It was illegible, from such a distance, plus, the photo was small and even if someone scanned and blew it up, it would be far too pixelated, to be able to read what was on it.

"Who was with you?" Angie asked curiously, noticing three fingers, holding the opposite side of the same paper, right where the photo had been torn.

The fingers looked smaller, slimmer, shorter. There was bubblegum pink nail lacquer on the one nail that was visible. Microscopic details, but Angie noticed all of them.

"Someone I loved." Emily sighed.

"Someone you _still_ love?" Angie just had all the questions in the world.

"Someone I'll _always_ love." Emily corrected herself.

"But we're not having another heated emotional conversation right now." She added, remembering the stove was on.

She was known for burning things…

"Excuse me for a second." Emily walked back to the kitchen and busied herself preparing things.

Luckily for her, this time, she hadn't burned anything. Not a single thing. She was proud.

When Angie failed to join her, a few minutes later, Emily opened the small safe in the living room and her hand brushed against a photo. The _half_ of a photo. A photo of someone, standing in front of a beautiful fountain, in the Springtime. She smiled, remembering that person in perfect detail, remembering the words on a certain piece of paper she had obtained just prior to snapping this photo. And God, she remembered how happy she had been that day.

"I'm done snooping around your room." Angie spoke, coming from behind Emily.

She was smart enough to have figured she'd better announce her presence, than let Emily have a heart attack if she never heard her approaching sneakily.

Emily quickly closed the safe and turned to face the girl.

She didn't want to be busted with _that_ photo. She also didn't want anyone to see a certain other piece of paper, one that only JJ had already seen, one signed by someone with the name of a pastry shop.

That said paper had been laying on top of the bedside table since JJ had returned it, but now that people were going to walk freely around Emily's house, there was no way she'd be dumb enough to leave it out, for anyone to find. So, it had gotten locked in the safe, for the night.

Angie flipped her hair to the side of her shoulder, as it was long and heavy and she just wanted to feel more comfortable. In doing so, a thin necklace string got caught to a strand of hair, allowing a dainty little pendant to pop on top of Angie's shirt.

Emily's eyes then got glued to the pendant, as it caught the light.

"Nice necklace." Emily smiled, noticing it was only half of the figure. "Who has the other half of your heart?"

"Someone who doesn't fully deserve it…anymore." Angie's tone of voice oozed pain and Emily could feel that.

"Or rather…_yet_…again…" Angie corrected herself, feeling like her previous statement was not nice and definitely not what her heart felt.

Yes, it felt good to bash on Monkey, who was the one to have given her this half-heart shaped pendant necklace in one of the care packages they sent to the Academy, but it felt wrong to be so rude, especially since Angie knew how much Monkey loved her. Even pissed off, Angie could not be disrespectful towards the person who had ruined her life. Twice.

Emily exhaled slowly, sensing Angie's confusion towards that unnamed person in her life. It was clear how hurt she felt, but she could also feel how much Angie wanted them back in her life. Ultimately, that last thought made Emily smile a little bit.

"What do you want to see next?" She asked, as a change of topic was much needed.

"Where you keep your gun!" It took Angie half a second to reply. Her interests were not normal, thus very hard to predict.

Emily pushed a gun case towards Angie. It was conveniently placed right underneath the living room table, out in the open.

"Right here. It's locked and secured, so I can leave this case wherever I want. Nobody can get to it."

Angie took a look and Emily stood up once again, to go make sure she had enough cold refreshments for everyone.

Two minutes later, she sat back on the couch and saw Angie, with the gun in her hands.

"How the Hell did you-…" Emily cut herself off, raising an eyebrow at Angela.

That case had a numeric lock of eight numbers on one side and also a dial combination padlock, on the other side of the case.

"Let's just say, I've run with diverse friend groups…" She said sweetly.

Like Hell, she did _not_ look like a tough girl who had run with a bad crowd. Ever. Anyone who didn't _really_ know her, would never believe that absurd statement.

"Put that thing back in and stop talking." Emily urged her, pointing at the gun and the now opened case.

"Mhm, that's what she said…" Angie smirked, not missing out on a chance to make an inappropriate statement again.

"I'm begging you, please, behave tonight. Don't give me a headache. Not tonight." Emily pleaded.

"Okay. I'll try." Angie said innocently.

Somehow they both knew that 'trying' didn't necessarily mean 'succeeding'.

* * *

"Hey Ems!" Garcia greeted cheerfully as she walked in, a little later that evening.

She was second, after Tara. Emily had figured Tara would take her sports car for a ride, so it had taken her half the time it usually took her, to drive to Emily's.

The rest of the team joined them a few minutes later.

"This must be Bryan." Emily stated when she doorbell rang and the BAU was already there. Including JJ, whom Emily had had a conversation with, previously, in private.

"Hey, come on in." Emily walked him in and he found it weird.

She was now wearing a dress that she would not wear to work. He had only ever seen her as the tough Unit Chief, in her work clothes and with her formal facial expression, which, quite frankly, scared him a little bit.

And she was different now. He walked in and greeted the team, noticing how much Emily was smiling and how happy and carefree she looked.

"Here, the host graciously saved you a seat right next to me, so that you wouldn't feel left out." Angie stated, pointing at the empty chair to her right.

"Angela!" Tara murmured, disapproving of her bluntness.

"It's okay. Him and I push each other's buttons, like, all the time." Angie smiled and gave Bryan a hug.

For some odd reason, she felt strongly connected to him.

The team saw the ease with which Angie hugged the guy and it made them curious. She had never let either one of them even touch her, yet she was okay with Bryan and all of this proximity with him.

Luke could not help but check their actions out. Angie was beaming, with Bryan next to her.

JJ was happy to be sitting on the far end of the table, across from where Angie and Bryan were. Emily had strategically accommodated her there earlier. She now had the perfect excuse to ignore Angie altogether. But, like Emily had said before – her ass better be at that dinner table and there was no other way.

"Okay, when's the pizza coming?" Matt rubbed his hands together hungrily.

"Food is already here." Emily informed him before walking to the kitchen and bringing out three salad bowls and a thermo-coated stainless steel soup kettle with the name of one of Emily's favorite takeaway restaurants written on the side.

She let everyone serve themselves as much salad as they wanted, but she served the soup herself.

She started with Angie and as soon as she opened the kettle top, Angie licked her lips.

"Potato and carrot cream soup!?" The girl asked, already knowing the answer.

"Mhm." Emily confirmed. "Want some?"

"Want some!?" Angie mimicked Emily's question. "I want _all_ of it. Yes, please!"

Emily shook her head and let out a tiny laugh while serving her before she moved to the others.

When everything was on the table, or at least the starters and the soup, Emily finally sat down and relaxed.

"Okay, I just want to say a few words…" Emily started soon enough, finding it hard to hold that speech for any longer.

"Oh, yes…you are _so_ going to cry now!" Bryan teased Angie and she elbowed him hard.

He had seen her crawl on the floor, exhausted, dehydrated and almost given up on life itself, after certain trainings, but he had never seen her cry. He knew that she was upset, at times, but she never cried even then. At this point he imagined that the only thing that could possibly make Angela's eyes water might be a sappy speech about her, given by her muse – Agent Hotness.

"I want to thank you, Angela Hunter, for choosing me, Emily Prentiss, to be your Big, this week. It truly has been a roller coaster ride for me and I know you were supposed to learn from _me_ and from _my_ work experiences, but I found myself learning a lot from _you_, too." Emily spoke and nobody dared interrupt her. She was known to give a good speech.

"You are so incredibly talented, so hard working, so motivated…." Emily gulped.

Her thoughts were drifting in one direction, a direction she could not allow herself to go to.

_"__And I am so incredibly lucky to be able to welcome you to the BAU team…"_ Emily's inner voice came out to play, teasing her with those words, while Emily was taking a sip of water and a break from all the talking.

Oh, how much she'd like to be able to say those words out loud.

"And I…uh…" Emily spoke up, but all she could hear, all she wanted to say, was that one thing that her inner voice had just whispered at her.

Damn that inner voice of hers.

"Can I say something?" Angie stepped in. She could not sit there and let Emily make a fool out of herself.

Emily nodded.

"I really did learn a lot this week. From all of you. But especially from…" With her last words, she looked at Emily.

"I came into this, not knowing a thing about Emily Prentiss. Hell, I honestly didn't even _like_ Emily Prentiss, with her emotional Welcome Speech at the Academy and her head held high, chin up at all times, buttoned up shirt and those damn black pants, every single freaking day. I saw her as one of _them_, one of the many unknown faces of the Bureau." Angie started speaking.

Everyone's eyes were now set on her and Bryan was wondering why Angie felt the need to start her 'Thank You' speech by insulting that poor woman who had been nothing but nice to her.

"But then, I saw a different side of Emily Prentiss. I got to see her at work, outside of work…drunk off her ass, too. And oh, that was fun!" Angie laughed at her own words.

"I saw a human side to the person that I considered as nothing more than just a Unit Chief, a slightly more stuck up version of a Supervisory Special Agent. I'm not good with authority figures…Well, I mean, I'm okay with everyone, it's just that Boss figures don't really like me. I tend to rub them the wrong way. I always say something geeky and dumb and always at the wrong time, too. So, to have someone like Emily Prentiss, with her status at the Bureau, accept me and understand me and my weird jokes and random emotional meltdowns and all of my…ehm, other type of jokes…" She shot a glance at Emily, making sure she knew she meant all those dirty jokes they had said. "It's truly been a blessing. I've never had someone in my life, who guided me, like she did this week. Someone who taught me and who genuinely wanted me to learn it all. Someone who protected me. Someone who _fought_ for me…"

At this point, Angie was in need of some water as well. Her left hand picked the glass up and she blew off some air before she took a sip.

Emily just looked at her, without uttering a word. She was too busy micro analyzing her words, profiling that girl to the best of her abilities.

"I guess what I'm trying to say here is that, yes, a week is not a long time at all, but sometimes a short period of time can almost feel like it could make up for a lifetime of missed opportunities…" Angie trailed off.

Bryan saw her lip quiver. He had teased her about crying, but he knew she never cried. And yet, at that very moment she looked awfully close to doing just that. How was he supposed to react?

In doubt, he simply let his hand go under the table and rest on her knee. A simple gesture like that helped her steady her emotions and act a little bit more normal again.

"Thank you so much, Emily Prentiss…I really needed this week. With _her_. I mean, with…_you_." In a moment of complete lack of judgment, Angie let something slip. She covered up quickly, hoping that the only one who would understand her words would be Emily Prentiss herself.

"And I really needed this week with _her_. I mean, with…_you_." Emily mirrored Angela's statement, with a small smile on her face. A genuine one, this time.

Of course she understood. And as far as she could tell, Angela Hunter was communicating way more than what she was saying out loud. With this girl it was never about her words, but about the actions, about those stolen glances, about the smiles and about the tiny little winces she made when she was upset. It was never about words. Emily Prentiss did not need words. She communicated in different ways and, apparently, so did Angela Hunter.

JJ rolled her eyes a little bit. Yes, Tara was right – she was maybe a little jealous. It had taken her weeks to get Emily to a state where she could smile again after the Cursed Case and she was barely starting to see results now, while this girl just came from nowhere and changed everything that Emily was. Even if it was a positive change, a much needed change for Emily, JJ could still not help but feel some type of way about Angela. The fact that she was now not on speaking terms with her husband and unable to find a new school for Henry, while Mikey still walked around with a cast on his broken arm, was not helping her mood, at all. That, combined with the stress of the job, was making her snap in ways that the normal JJ never thought she could.

JJ herself realized that and, recently, she had given it some thought. The more she analyzed things, the more she came to the logical conclusion that it wasn't Angela who was getting on her nerves, but rather her own inability to get a hold of everything in her life. Things just seemed to be happening, and JJ could not help any of them. She did not _like_ any of them, either. She most certainly would have preferred to go home every night, to her loving husband and to spend the night with him and with her two happy and healthy children who were doing great at school, but it was just not a thing. And then, since she needed an outlet for her frustration, she seemed to be taking it all out, indirectly, on the new girl. Yes, she was somewhat annoyed that Angela was receiving all the attention, especially from Emily, but it was also true that when JJ was not feeling well, the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself.

Maybe one day she'll have a talk with Angela and explain it all. She had already spoken to Emily about it, prior to that dinner. But, for the time being, JJ was fine, convincing herself that Angela was the source of all evil in her life and indirectly – without even glancing at the girl or badmouthing her to anyone or even wishing her ill; JJ kept on 'punishing' her for everything. She punished her in her own mind, just ranting to herself and pretending like Angela taking the spotlight was what was really bothering her. After all, after so many years by Emily Prentiss' side – The Queen of Denial; JJ had learned a trick or two on how to live in denial and how to blame people who are otherwise not responsible for one's mistakes and mishaps.

The conversation then took turn and everyone started chatting, while eating, and occasionally asking Angela more questions.

This week, she had been glued to Emily's side and no matter how much time she spent around the rest of the team, it wasn't enough for them. They wanted to know more about her.

"How does it feel to be back in class now, after a case?" Matt asked at some point.

"After _two_ cases!" Angie pointed out. "You remember I went to Cuba with your old team, right?"

"Wait, how did you know I was with the IRT?" Matt questioned.

"They spoke about you. They said Matt Simmons joined the BAU when their Unit Chief SSA Garrett got shot and the IRT was temporarily off duty. I thought I already told you this, but Mae really misses you."

"Yeah, guess you could say she was 'the Angela to my Bryan', at the Academy." Matt said, using air quotes, and with a dreamy smile, remembering how their beautiful friendship had started - in khaki pants and blue polo shirts, with sweaty, messy hair, panting after their first PFT.

"Yeah, except that you two weren't dating." Luke added snappily.

Angie suppressed a smirk and Emily, in turn, hid her desire to kill Luke at that very moment.

Bryan was a guy. He knew.

After giving Angie a moment to decide how to proceed, he felt her grab his hand from under the table, and bring it on top of the table, brushing her finger on the palm of his hand.

"Well, guess that's out there, then." She smirked, making a very calm and serious announcement.

"Good Lord…" Emily laughed silently, watching the scene unfold, while knowing the truth.

"Awh, I knew it. You guys look so cute together!" Reid, the most naïve one of them all, said cheerfully.

"Hey, treat our girl right, or else…" Tara threatened Bryan jokingly, with her fingers forming into a fist.

Angie noticed her choice of words – '_our girl'_. That sounded so bittersweet to her.

Bryan only noticed one thing that disturbed him - Luke's eyes on him.

"Uhm, guys…would you like me to crack open a window…you know, let some testosterone out?" JJ finally spoke up and, to everyone's dismay, her joke was even funny.

She had been somewhat reserved and quiet lately, so to hear her participate with a joke was a big step she was taking.

"Anyone ready for the main course?" Emily suggested before she'd have to use her gun on someone, as her eyes inadvertently got locked with Luke's.

Rossi was in his little corner, just enjoying 'protective Emily', while she was out to play. Through the years he had seen many colors of Emily Prentiss, but this was new. It was so pure, in his eyes, and he truly appreciated those moments.

"What's that?" Matt asked curiously. He loved food.

"Chicken tenders with four cheese sauce." Emily replied, already standing up to go get them from the oven where they were being kept warm.

"Nooo…" Angie exclaimed silently, licking her lips. It was one of her most favorite dishes in the world.

"What? Angela Hunter doesn't like cheese?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

If this girl did not like cheese, it was a deal breaker. Emily was a huge cheese lover, herself.

"Oh, Emily Prentiss better believe Angela Hunter _loves_ cheese!" Angie said cheerfully.

"J'aime toutes sortes de fromages!" She added in French, because in no alternate universe could she ever speak about cheese and not connect that to France. Plus, it was a true statement – Angela loved _all_ types of cheese.

"Good, I'll be right back." Emily grabbed the mittens and took a step towards the kitchen.

"Uhm, actually, would it be okay if I asked for some more soup first. Please? It's so delicious! I haven't had homemade soup in like…ages!" Angie felt a little awkward, but she knew what she wanted and she felt no shame, asking for it. Kind of like her sweet internship spot, but she had not yet admitted that out loud, to anyone.

"Of course." With a bright smile, Emily re-filled Angie's soup plate.

"Homemade?" Reid laughed.

"Yeah, Emily's definition of 'homemade' is takeaway pizza." Tara added.

"Hey! If I have to heat it up in the oven, it's as if I've prepared it myself. It's hard work, you know!" Emily said in her defense.

"But…" Angie looked at her plate with confusion. "This _is_ homemade…"

"Hate to break it to you, but this came from a kettle with the name of a restaurant just a few miles from Emily's house, so…" Luke's shoulders rose a little bit as he spoke, as if he was telling her he was sorry for this unsettling revelation.

"But…it's…" Angie tried to argue once more, shooting a glance at Emily, who made a shush sign to her and pointed at the plate, as if to urge her to just quietly enjoy the food she had been served.

"Really now, I'd love the recipe for this." Rossi said a whole minute later, pointing at the soup kettle.

Somehow, he did find the taste of it pretty much homemade. Screw what the team said.

"I'll give you the number of the restaurant. They deliver quickly." Emily shrugged, not really in the mood to say anything else.

"See?" Luke smirked at Angela, raising his eyebrow, as if to say: _I told you so_. "Emily Prentiss cannot cook to save her life!"

"Since when?" Angie shot out quickly, which sounded confusing to everyone.

This was the first time she ate with Emily, in a home setting. Each other time had been in a restaurant and the food there had surely not been cooked by Emily, herself. So, her little question made no sense, unless it had been Emily to have previously told her that she could cook. Which – Emily Prentiss would never be caught uttering such words.

"Since I have no one to cook for." Emily replied honestly, nervously reaching for her wine glass.

God bless Bryan for having his own car there, so that Emily would not need to drive back to Quantico, because she surely needed some extra sips of wine that evening.

Angie's eyes looked down at her now empty plate and something must have been on her mind because she frowned.

"Thank you very much for the kind invitation and for the amazing food, Emily Prentiss." Angie said after she took a sip of her own wine glass with the same urgency that Emily had oozed just seconds earlier.

"It really was _my_ pleasure, Angela Hunter." The dinner host said with a faint smile.

"Those two secretly in love or something? They keep using their full names. Last time I did that, the girl ended up with a concussion." Luke whispered to whoever was near him, trying not to be overheard by the two women in question.

"What the Hell, bro?" Tara questioned his words.

"She fell off the bed while we were...ehm, making nice." Luke said victoriously, winking at her.

Matt cringed. He was used to his best friend's dirty comments, but the moment was _so_ wrong.

"Last time I called a woman by her full name, she ended up stealing _my_ last name, so..." Rossi's little comment sent everyone giggling.

They all knew about his numerous weddings and about his sense of humor. He'd always joke about his wives and his family life, because if he didn't do so himself, then Emily surely would. She would never miss a chance to point that out.

Both Emily and Angela were a bit busy at the moment, sulking into their own memories of the past, so neither of them heard that brief and quite disturbing side conversation.

JJ, on the other hand, was busy thinking of how she had attended the dinner with an open mind, just like Emily had previously asked her to. She knew she wasn't going to have any sort of direct interaction with Angela, but she was willing to sit there and enjoy everyone else's company, while maybe overhearing some more stuff about the 'new girl'. And if she had to be honest with herself, she was quite fond of what she heard. Angela was behaving in a manner that showed everyone that she had been brought up well, but she was also free-spirited enough to tease everyone and to make bogus announcements, such as her so called 'relationship' with Bryan. And she was the first one to take the complete piss out of her own self. She spoke eloquently and, even if she was joking around, she never swore, she never acted improperly or in a tasteless way. A few times during the conversation JJ could tell that Angela was just itching to say something inappropriate as a joke, but each time she saw her glance over to Emily and then decide to stay quiet. It was like there was this magical pull between those two, like Emily held some kind of power over Angela and also – like Angela was doing her absolute best to prove something to Emily.

Two hours later, all food was gone and Emily could not be any happier, as she could not be bothered to be sorting things out and putting them in little containers, for tomorrow. All she needed to do now was to throw away the big takeaway carton boxes and to load the dishwasher.

At some point, Angie was out on the terrace with Bryan, Tara, Reid and Matt, while JJ, Garcia and Luke were on the couch, discussing something.

Rossi saw Emily walking back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room and he decided to help her out.

As he grabbed a few plates and walked towards the kitchen, Emily got called to the balcony by Tara who wanted to tell a dirty joke that she knew for a fact that Emily would appreciate. And she did.

Rossi rinsed the plates and put them in the dishwasher, but then something caught his eyes.

There were way too many things that needed to be washed. Porcelain salad mixing bowls sat in the sink, a kettle with melted cheese residue was on the stove and potato peels were on top of the trash can.

"You really _did_ cook this, huh?" He asked, as soon as Emily walked back into the kitchen.

"Meh." Emily waved her hand in the air, dismissing the importance of it all.

"Emily…" Rossi started, but he should have known what was to hit him next.

"Don't _Emily_ me." She said softly. "It's not a big deal. Really. It's just food."

It wasn't 'just food'. She had sat there, taking all of her friends' little digs about her lack of cooking skills, when in reality she had spent the majority of her afternoon stuck in the kitchen, making sure everything would be perfect.

She _needed_ evening to be perfect.

"Whatever you say, Mamma Chef." Rossi smirked, testing how personal he could get with Emily at this point.

"Don't call me that!" Emily shot him down instantly, as he had supposed she would.

It wasn't about the straightforward nature in which he dared say those words, it was rather about that one word…a word Emily had always wanted to be associated with. And it had absolutely nothing to do with cooking, they both knew it.

Emily shied away, bringing her right hand up just to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. It was a gesture she _never_ made, not even in the most embarrassing life situations, not even under maximum stress - not ever.

Rossi eyed her up and down, refraining from shaking his head knowingly. This woman could never fool him. He could not only _write_ a book, but he could _read_ Emily Prentiss, as one. And he knew…he knew more than he was willing to tell her about and way more than what she could handle hearing. So, for the time being, they had this unspoken accord of not bringing 'it' up, but in the back of their minds they knew…they both knew.

Angie chose _that_ moment, to barge into the kitchen. She was known for having the worst timing in the world and this just got proven when she turned the corner and took a glimpse inside the kitchen, noticing Bad Boss Prentiss looking like a scared child, busted for something she had done, and Papa Rossi looking like a guilty child, instead. Had he maybe gone too far this time?

"May I?" Angie popped her head through the open kitchen door, asking for permission as she sensed those two were having somewhat of a private conversation. She could just read it on Emily's face.

"Of course, darling. Come here." Emily put her hand out instinctively and Rossi tried really hard not to profile that movement.

Emily had always been very good with children and for someone who did not have any of her own, she sure had spot on motherly instincts. During cases, Rossi had seen her jump in and grab a child who had tripped and was about to fall on the floor, he had seen her hand a child an object they didn't yet know they needed, such as a napkin, but seconds before the child would even spill something on themselves. Overall, Emily had the 'mom' vibe to her and it had always seemed weird, to Rossi…until one day, many years ago, she had chosen to open up and tell him something private, something about her past. And yet, it still did not make much sense – she was crushing the 'mom' game, like she had practiced it for years, not just hours with JJ's kids and any other kid she could lay her hands on. She was borderline obsessed with kids and he could tell they made her both happy and extremely sad.

So, to see her pull her hand out just at the sound of Angela's voice, as if she was welcoming her in for a hug, confused him. Angela was neither a child, nor someone Emily had known for this long. Yes, for her own reasons – whatever they might have been, she felt strangely connected to this girl. But she was not a child. Why did she provoke such a 'mom' reflex in Emily then?

Then again, Rossi just knew. In a way he chose to pretend to be confused about everything, as it was the best way to handle this delicate situation…for the time being.

"I need to excuse myself and go make sure Garcia isn't up to no good. As usual." Rossi laughed and walked back to the living room, giving the girls some privacy.

"Uhm…" Angie said, shyly nearing Emily's corner of the kitchen.

Emily could tell that she was holding something behind her back and it made her suppress a smile.

"I uh…" Angie stuttered. This was a first.

"Yeah?" Emily urged her to speak up, giving her a warm smile.

"I uh…" Angie repeated, but this time forced herself to add something more to her statement. Like, actual words, maybe.

"You seem like someone who would appreciate France…" She started off and this time Emily did not dare to interrupt her.

"So…I, I uh…I…"

She had rehearsed this in her mind so many times, ever since she decided to give Emily the object that was now being squeezed between her sweaty palms.

And yet, looking at Emily, she felt so intimidated. Her original plan had been to make a nice little speech and then give it to Emily, but she didn't want to turn this into a huge emotional mess of a moment, so she had then decided to casually pop this thing out and hand it to Emily, without much explanations. She would surely know its significance.

"Sweetheart, you have no idea how much I appreciate _everything_ about France." Emily spoke up only when she felt like Angela definitely needed some reassurance.

And it worked. It melted some of that ice that Angie felt between them at that very moment.

Instinctively, she put both of her hands out and, removing the upper palm, she revealed a little box in her other hand.

God bless Angela, Emily thought she looked like an eager five year old who had just gotten home, impatient to give her mommy whatever useless little object she had created in art class, at kindergarten.

And then Emily inhaled sharply, realizing that, in her mind, she had just compared this situation to something she had never had - an innocent five year old who would want to share her entire world with her mommy.

"It's lame, okay? And you don't need to wear it or anything. It's just, you know, it's uh…" Angie started to excuse her choice of a present before Emily had even taken it from her hands and opened it, to see what it was.

Slowly, Emily's right hand obtained the tiny box and opening it made her gasp. Her lips quivered and she could not help it.

"It's perfect!" Emily whispered.

Of course she knew what this meant to Angela. In a way, this girl was giving Emily a piece of herself, a little something she must have held so dear to her heart. It was a tiny object, it looked like it had been used previously, but that was what made it _that_ more special, in Emily's eyes.

Emily's index finger brushed on top of it and she smiled wide. How could a tiny object feel like such a huge deal?

"So…uh…" Angie, being the master of holding back her emotions, found herself unable to do so.

"Yeah, okay…" She continued stuttering like an idiot, as she didn't know what to say, how to behave or even – how she felt about this situation.

"So…I gotta go. Bye." Angie paired her sudden goodbye with the most awkward hand wave of all times, before she disappeared.

Going back to the living room, she urged Bryan to leave, so while she ran to the bathroom first, Bryan went to thank the dinner host and then they left, with Angela frantically making sure she'd leave before Emily would be out of the kitchen.

Everyone else left in the span of ten minutes, after that. It was a week-night and they all had an early meeting at the office the next morning. All, besides Angela. She would sadly be back to her life as a pumpkin, in the Academy, where she would be bored out of her freaking mind all week long, resuming her usual studying and training activities.

As soon as Emily found herself alone in her home, surrounded by some more dirty plates and empty glasses and bottles, she headed straight to her bedroom. The cleaning up could be done on the next day, it was not a pressing issue. There was something else she needed to do now, instead.

After a quick shower, she impatiently put her hands on the little gift box once again.

Opening its lid, it made her smile.

She set it on her bedside table just so she could brush her hair and make sure it was nice and silky. After that she took the object from the little box and she admired its beauty for a second, before she finally found the courage to put it to use.

With her left hand she slicked back a strand of hair and with her right hand she pinned it in place with her new present.

As she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror, she kept on smiling.

_"__You seem like someone who would appreciate France…"_

Angie's words when giving this present to her, resonated across the room. It sent chills down Emily's spine. Was it the wine? Why was she so convinced she heard Angela's voice at that very moment, in her room?

This girl had absolutely no idea what France meant to Emily Prentiss. It had saved her, more times than she could count. Angela had mentioned that she felt reborn in France, but Emily had quite literally risen from the dead, twice. Each time, in Paris.

Hell no, Angela Hunter had absolutely no idea how much France, specifically Paris, meant to Emily Prentiss!

She let her eyes linger on the small hair clip for the longest moment. Seeing it, she saw scenes from her past, as if her own shadow got wiped off the mirror and a film was being projected on it, instead.

_"__Je t'aime!"_ A small voice said to Emily, looking back at her, through the mirror.

_"__Je t'aimerai toujours, mon bijou!"_ The voice of a younger Emily replied, saying that she would always love this person, the one she called her jewel.

Her eyes shut for a brief moment as she remembered this scene, from her past. She was in Paris, with someone she loved. It was the person from the torn photo, the person Angela had been so curious about, just earlier. It was someone that Emily had promised the world, but she had failed miserably at delivering. Instead, she had caused them pain. She wouldn't be surprised if that person never came back to her life again. They had the right to be pissed. Emily had screwed them over majorly.

Feeling moisture in her eyes, she opened them, only to see the reflection of this beautiful hair clip one more time.

Angela could have given Emily _anything_ in the world. She could have bought her the most expensive piece of jewelry. She could have made some artsy project with her own hands. She could have bought Emily a freaking yacht. But nothing – not a single thing, could hit Emily in the feels quite like this tiny little bow-shaped hair clip, with the colors of the French flag on it.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"Spooladio", "zhangxinna", "Natasha36" **\- I hope you are well :) Haven't heard from you lately. Hope you are still reading and enjoying the story. Sending you some positive vibes and smiles.

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Hi :) Thank you, this means a lot to me, as I try to build multi-dimensional characters, with layers of trauma, guilt, joy, tears, happiness, hope, deceit, lies, secrets, truths and so much more. I really enjoy writing scenes with different emotional load. Plus, I'm a sucker for both Bad Ass Prentiss and Soft Emily :)

Yeah, in my eyes Bryan is the male friend that every girl deserves to have! Although I'd personally rather have me some sexy Luke :P Or even better - French Richard to worship me in two different languages. Lol. Lucky Emily. Ugh!

Oh Angie is holding on to her last (mental) strengths. Poor thing is about to snap and it might get ugly. But it is necessary, in order for her to move on, as she is now clearly stuck in the past, living in denial, still feeling a huge pain. She just needs the right person to heal the wounds that Monkey once scarred her with.

The story tone will be somewhat the way it is now - with secrets and truths coming out, as I love mystery. However, it won't be a noir. I balance it all out with dorky stuff, jokes and fluffy situations, as I love seeing the team acting like fools while de-stressing. It shows their bond and it builds character. So yes, the revelations of the past will be dark, but also no - that won't change the tone and I won't go all dark, complete depression and no fun, no distractions, no positivity :)

PS: I replied to your message too!

**"rmpcmfan" **Hey :)! I've been extremely careful not to reveal Monkey's gender directly. I went back to the Full Circle chapter 105 and checked, so now I can confirm that ALL the female gender references Angie made were about _EMILY,_ not Monkey. This, however, does NOT exclude the possibility of Monkey being a female! It's a 50/50 chance here, lol! There have already been some pretty revealing clues to Monkey's gender, plus, Dr. Martha Allen is absolutely sure she has figured it out and she is, after all, a certified professional :)!

Btw I like your thinking and analyzing process, you always catch the small details, but those that matter. Emily has surely been drifting off and soaking into her own memories lately and often those have to do with Paris - whether it's from her past when she was healing after Doyle, or from the recent days with Richard. And lol, I felt bad for Bryan during class, the way Big Prentiss and Mini Prentiss ganged up on him, but it was so much fun writing that! He's obviously specializing in a very different aspect of crime scene investigation. And yes, he is protective over Angie and feels a weird bond with her. In turn, she lets him get close and a bit more 'touchy' with her, than anyone else she has recently met. She trusts him with her life and he's proven to be worthy of that trust. Now...will others prove to be worthy of it, too? Will Angie let other people see more of her true colors or will she continue living in denial? Like Emily said - one day it will be too much and Angela would snap. Who would be there to hold her?

PS: (Quote) _"a memory regarding Angie"_? I spy a theory going on there. Care to share your thoughts, Detective? ;P

**"sweetkid45"** Keep in mind Angie is super nice to everyone, so if she's ignoring JJ's existence, there must be a SOLID reason for it. Also, nobody said Angie is getting in the BAU ;) We'll see what happens with that. Richard is working in Paris and there isn't much going on around him right now, so I'm focusing on the other characters at the moment. However, he might pop in after a few chapters...and it might not be what the readers were expecting hehe. Oh, everyone has an opinion and I respect all opinions, even if they differ from mine. I'm super chill, as long as the delivery is nice and educated. I just want everyone to enjoy their lives and do things that make them happy. We all need some fun right now, with everything happening in the world.


	108. My Biggest Desire, My Biggest Regret

** CHAPTER 108**

**MY BIGGEST DESIRE, MY BIGGEST REGRET**

"Focus…" Someone commanded themselves, surrounded by nothing but darkness in their own office.

The only source of light came from the computer screen where they were reading some document intently and trying to nitpick through all the legal and barely legal loopholes of whatever it was. It was proving to be giving them a headache and the fact that they were thinking about at least five other things at the same time did not help them make sense of this document any easier.

"Focus, please…." They groaned, somewhat in annoyance.

A glance at the clock confirmed that two and a half hours ago had started that sweet countdown of extra hours that they were surely not going to get paid for. It was okay, this was a personal matter after all. They just needed the comfort of their office and the silence it offered them. Everything seemed so peaceful at that time of the day. It was quiet, no people, not much movement around the hallways.

"Focus, damn it!" They repeated a third time, hoping for a better result.

A knock on the door served as a yet another distraction.

"Yes?" They answered loud enough.

"Uh…" Someone cracked the door open and looked at the person, sitting behind the desk, before checking out the name tag on the office door and on the tag that was sitting in the perfect middle of that person's desk.

"Agent…Monkey?" The guy who had knocked on the door, asked in confusion.

It only took the office owner a split second to stand up, straighten their smart suit and give the guy their best version of a calm half-smile.

"Uhm, this is probably some type of a joke…or I might be at the wrong place, but uh, someone begged me to deliver this envelope and before I could ask whom I should deliver it to, they had disappeared. So yeah, it says Monkey as recipient, but there's also your name…on the print, so I thought I'd give this a shot…" The guy shrugged, feeling a bit intimidated by the person in front of him.

He just called a Superior a 'Monkey'. What if this was a prank and he was being set up by his friends? He had just transferred from another field office and he was still testing the waters with his new Unit members. He was young, naïve and very helpful, apparently, as he had been coaxed into delivering an envelope way past midnight, by someone he had never even seen before. How could he have said 'No' to those beautiful green eyes?

"Don't worry. You most definitely got the right person to deliver this to. Thank you." Monkey replied calmly.

They knew this was the calm before the storm. They just had no idea _what_ storm was about to hit them once they'd open that envelope.

The younger Agent nodded politely and exited the office, glad that this hadn't turned out to be more awkward than he had anticipated.

With a deep sigh, Monkey brought the envelope closer to their chest. It felt warm and they knew it was just pieces of paper and that this was a ridiculous thought, but they could almost swear they felt the warmth of the person who wrote whatever was inside. It certainly smelled like them, too - like something sweet, but also flowery, but also mysterious, but then also there was this hint of danger, a vague remembrance of something unknown, a sweet déjà vu. Monkey's olfactory senses were hit by a bouquet of smells that triggered a series of emotions.

At first, there was denial. This could not be happening. This person from their past could not be reaching out, after they asked Monkey to stay away. No, this was not real. This was a dream.

Then came anger. How dare they reach out, after they shot Monkey down? Why would they ask for fair play, if they'd go breaking their own rules subsequently? How dare she? Who did she think she was?

Naturally, then came the bargaining stage.

_"__What if I throw this away? Yeah, that would make sense – if I don't read it, I won't be hurt and if I'm not hurt then everything is okay, right? Sounds like a good compromise. So, I throw this in the bin and I never look back…right?"_ Monkey thought to themselves, trying to come up with a good bargain for this delicate situation.

Seconds later Monkey was overwhelmed by the power of sadness. The last bits of hope all the bargaining had given them went out the window in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but pain in their stomach – a kind of pain that Monkey could only put one definition to: the pain of a great loss, again.

Opening their eyes, they noticed the envelope was still pressed against their chest, with their heart now racing at accelerated speed. Was this even healthy?

"Okay…well, I knew this was coming…" Monkey started to mumble to themselves.

"So, I guess now that it is here…literally…here…" They sighed once more, looking at the envelope.

"Guess there's nothing I could do to change this…so I might as well accept it, right?"

They caught a glimpse of themselves in the window of their office door, as they were stood immobile by it ever since they had been handed the 'paper daemon', a.k.a. the envelope.

What they saw was fear. Why were they scared? It was just a piece of paper, right?

That piece of paper, however, might change their entire life…for better…or for worse…

"Come on, I've talked the guns out of the hands of serial killers. A little credit here, okay?" They said to the reflection of themselves, unsure if those were words of encouragement or just pure irony.

If they were in front of a serial killer, they'd be calm. They had a name for remaining super chill in the most dangerous situations. They wouldn't even flinch, which had often preoccupied their colleagues, especially at the beginning of their career. They were tough, at least on the outside. They would never show fear, never admit weakness.

Then why was a piece of paper making them feel so…uneasy…

So…vulnerable…

So…imperfect…

So sloppy…

So human…

Angie's letter – the one she had frantically written a couple of days ago, in Emily Prentiss' office, on her own branded paper; was now about to be opened, by the same person who built her up and broke her down. Twice.

That person took a deep breath, closed in an office room, with the curtains down, so that nobody would see them. Just in case of a meltdown.

Their fingers brushed against the envelope. It looked like it had been sealed in a hurry, like Angie did not want anyone else, but _that_ person, to ever lay eyes on it.

They smiled, preparing mentally for the tears that they knew were going to come.

They _wanted_ them to come.

They _needed_ them to come.

With a deep sigh, trying to fill their lungs with courage, they started reading slowly, hoping for the best.

* * *

_Hey,_

_Here I am, reaching out after I asked you to stop doing just that. Thank you for respecting my request, by the way._

_I took my time to think about me. About us. Not so much about __you__. In fact, I did not think about you at all._

_I did this for me. And, for once, it feels good to put __me__ first._

_I have thought a lot about what I want._

_I know you love me. I know you always will._

_But…I think it is time for me to build something new for myself._

_Without you…_

_Other people now want me in their lives. I am happy. I feel wanted. And that's all I've ever wanted to feel._

_Wanted…_

_Good enough._

_Why wasn't I good enough for you?_

_Each time I think about you, this question haunts me._

_It scares me._

_It makes me feel weak._

_And those new people in my life – they make me feel strong. Wanted. Good enough. They want to fight for me._

_So, I have to give them a chance._

_I'd be crazy not to._

_This is all I've ever wanted._

_I don't think it was realistic of us to think that we had an eternity to be together, if we weren't even being ourselves to start with._

_I wasn't being myself._

_I loved every moment with you and I am never going to forget that._

_But I need to let go._

_I need to make space in my heart, for new people - ones who want me._

_Ones who make me feel good enough._

_I'm always going to love you. But I don't think I'm able to let go of the resentment I still hold, against you. Against what you did to me. Twice._

_And I don't want to wake up one day, hating you. So, I need to put a stop to this. To us. Now._

_Because now I have someone else. A completely different person. A kind one, someone I believe is genuine when they say they are always going to fight for me._

_Call me naïve, I've been burned twice, but I really do believe them now…_

_It's not healthy for me to go on, longing for you, if you never really existed anyway._

_So, in order to move on, I have to say Goodbye to you…_

_This is not really a 'Goodbye'. It's an unconventional 'I Love You' – one that only you and I can understand the worth of._

_It's time for me to promise my Always & Forever to someone new._

_And I am excited to do so._

_I am finally good enough for someone who really wants me._

_And I could only hope they won't break me, like you did. Twice._

_Thank you for giving me everything you possibly could._

_Thank you for loving me unconditionally._

_Thank you for believing in me, but mostly – for teaching me how to never doubt myself._

_Thank you for understanding me, with all that I stand for, all that I represent._

_Thank you for every single moment we have spent together._

_Also…thank you for breaking me so damn hard. It made me stronger, it taught me how to fight, how to survive._

_Thank you for never forgetting about me and for wanting me, still._

_But I am done…_

_This is where I draw the line between you - as I knew you; and me – as you knew me._

_This is where it all ends._

_The end of a journey._

_The end of an era._

_The end of us._

_My entire life I never thought I'd find myself writing something like this. And I'm not going to lie – this hurts like a bitch._

_And yet – here I am. I am tired…I am sick of all the lies and pretending. I just want a fresh start. And I don't want it to be with you, as I knew you._

_As I'm writing this right now, someone is looking over my shoulder - literally and figuratively._

_I'll let them look out for me, but I won't let them catch a glimpse of these words. I don't mind you knowing about them, but I don't want them to know about you. You do not exist. I do not know you. Apparently, I never knew you as well as I thought I did. Maybe you were a ghost – a product of my vivid childish imagination. I don't know what the Hell you were, but I loved you and I know I always will._

_But this is it._

_I am done._

_I am so tired…_

_It is killing me inside and I know I won't ever move on, until I let go of you – of what you represent._

_You are the best of me and you are the worst of me._

_You were __everything__ to me._

_I feel like I'm betraying you now, but I must move on._

_I am scared…_

_And I am also excited…_

_Maybe I'm making a colossal mistake, but it is my decision and it is my life…_

_We both knew this moment was coming, so I hope it gives you the peace and clarity that I hope it will give me, too, once I send this letter out._

_I love you._

_I always will._

_I just knew this wouldn't last forever._

_\- Your precious little diamond… L.R._

* * *

By the end of the letter, the person that Angela so eagerly liked to call 'Monkey' was crying uncontrollably.

The tears had started pouring while reading the very first phrase, if they had to be honest with themselves, but what had sent them into an intense psychological turmoil had been the signature.

It finally downed on them – their little girl would no longer use those initials. She would no longer be their precious little diamond. And she would no longer call them that one sweet word that made their heart melt.

"This is good…" Monkey whispered.

No, it wasn't good for Monkey. As the writer of this letter had stated – this was the end of an era.

"This is what she needs…" Monkey then added selflessly.

Screw their own feelings. Their little diamond deserved better. She always had.

Their hand rested on their heart for a long moment before it wiped a few hot tears from their now rosy cheeks.

"I just want you to be happy, baby…" They said, now suddenly addressing the author of the letter directly and feeling like they couldn't possibly feel any further from them, at that moment. Feeling like they had lost that sweet little girl, the one they remembered so vividly.

"I'm always going to love you."

One hand went back to their heart.

"But now it is time for _her_ to love you forever." They said while brushing their fingers against the signature on the bottom of the paper that Angela had written on.

_"__Emily Prentiss – BAU Unit Chief" _Monkey read in a weak whisper, suddenly feeling a certain wave of freedom, a weight being lifted off their shoulders…a sadness, but one that was no longer going to hurt the girl behind the beautiful green eyes.

* * *

"I may have dug myself a hole that I can't seem to be able to crawl out of!" Emily stated as soon as she walked in Martha Allen's office.

With everything going on in her head recently, paired up with the ending of her first ever Big-Little week, which she had actually enjoyed, plus her unresolved feelings for a certain French man, had pushed her to drop the paper work that morning and to go see her therapist Martha Allen instead. Maybe _that_ will help?

She only had sixty minutes to figure her life out, because that was what she was determined to do on that very same day – figure it _all_ out. Naively, Emily thought this was possible.

"And you need me to give you a magic ladder to just comfortably climb out of the mess?" Martha chuckled, motioning for Emily to take a seat.

"Something along the lines of that. Yes. That actually sounds lovely!" Emily grinned, giving herself just a couple of seconds to enjoy the amazing sound of Martha's suggestion before the woman would inevitably bring her back to the harsh reality.

"Come on, Emily…" Martha started off calmly, with a smile. "What's bothering you? Is it still _that_ case?"

"No." Emily said quickly. "I mean, of course _that_ case bothers me and I don't know if it will ever stop bothering me. But this time it's personal. I find myself sort of torn in half. Actually, scratch that – I'm torn into three pieces. Ha, now _that's_ a threesome I never wanted to…uhm, nevermind." She blushed at her last idiotic comment. Why did she always have to go and say something sexual?

"With each piece of you wanting something different?" Martha asked and Emily nodded. "What makes you think you can't be Emily Prentiss and have all three things? What gave you the impression that you have to live three realities, in order to have what you want?"

"Well…it's complicated…"

"Isn't it always, with you?" Martha smirked.

Emily was probably her favorite patient of all times. That woman had been through Hell and back, multiple times, and each time she had bounced back, getting stronger. It seemed like everyone else was seeing this – everyone _but_ Emily herself.

"Alright, so Emily Prentiss clearly wants her job and her team. At this point I don't even care about the budget cuts anymore. I mean, yeah, it sucks, but we've found a way to work with what we have and it hasn't affected our quality of work…well, not majorly anyway. So I'd say Emily Prentiss is okay. Wow, I mean, for once, who I _really_ am is better off than the alter egos I'm living as, on the side." Emily laughed at her own realization.

It had always been the other way around. That was the whole point of making up characters and playing them with precision – trying to make herself believe she _was_ them, while giving them a certain glamour, a certain aspect that Emily Prentiss would love to have in her life, but just was not able to, not as herself anyway.

"I'm glad to hear that." Martha smiled again.

"Right…well, enjoy that feeling before I tell you about Lauren…" Emily rolled her eyes. "That bitch just _had_ to go and explore the world! Fine, but I came back hating life even more than what I already did. And that says a lot!"

Martha raised an eyebrow at the ease with which Emily started talking about Lauren. That never usually happened. Martha would have to beg Emily to share anything Lauren-related, and yet there she was, pouring it all out willingly.

"To make it short, I went to Paris and I met an incredible guy. To make it even shorter, he disappeared, leaving me a note that still makes me cry. And I hate that! Okay? I hate how a stupid piece of paper makes me feel! I wouldn't have blinked if he put a revolver to my head or a knife to my throat, but this damn note…ugh…" Emily shivered, just thinking about it.

She had spent days, trying to stop thinking about it. She had done pretty well with not reaching out to grab it from underneath the couch, for a while now. However, she could not stop thinking about _him_. It was new to her, confusing, enraging, it was a whole spectrum of feelings that were meshed together.

"A guy?" Martha asked, unsure if she had heard correctly.

Since when did Emily Prentiss ever talk about her love life, in therapy? It was incredibly hard to make her talk about Lauren, but it was beyond impossible to ever have her share something about _any_ man she had ever gone out with. Martha knew nothing about Emily's relationships, or the lack there of. She had come to her own conclusions, based on how Emily disregarded love, feelings, romanticism, relationships, but something about the version of Emily that she was currently seeing was telling her that maybe those conclusions had not been as correct as she thought. Maybe Emily was not completely against love. Maybe this was the new version of Emily – one who was excited to give someone a chance.

Martha was conflicted. She had a million questions, but she didn't want to push Emily, who had always been nothing but reserved when it came to relationships.

And yet, there she was – openly sharing something _so_ intimate.

"Point is – I need it to stop! I can't keep pretending like I'm Lauren and like I ever had the chance to be with this guy. It was just a week of…well…" Emily stopped herself for a second. There wasn't a word nice enough, to explain what this week had meant to her.

"I think I get the point." Martha blushed, imagining what a grown up woman might have meant. Plus, she already knew about Emily's healthy appetite for the opposite sex.

"No. It wasn't like _that_. Not at all. It wasn't about the physical aspect. It was…I don't even know what the Hell it was. Isn't that why I ended up here?" She pointed at the couch and Martha was even more confused.

Emily Prentiss was the biggest Grinch when it came to love. She had only briefly spoken about men and how her so called 'relationships' had always been based on the physical pleasure, with no feelings at all, at least on her side. And yet, she was now sharing the complete opposite.

Was she pranking Martha? Everything she said and the way she spoke, was the contrary to everything Martha thought she ever knew about this woman so far. The Emily Prentiss that had walked into her office years ago would have never cared about a guy, not enough to end up in therapy, trying to work out how he had made her feel, even with the lack of physical intimacy to the relationship.

To Martha it seemed like the world was coming to an end.

"We hung out, we went on small trips, we ate, we talked for hours, we did nothing more than just that. Well, except for that last night…but we're not discussing _that_." It was now Emily's turn to blush. Apparently, it hadn't been completely strictly platonic after all.

To Martha, the fact that Emily refused to speak about that night, showed that Emily actually cared enough, to want to keep it to herself. It hadn't been 'just for the fun', otherwise Emily would have no problem boasting about it after mentioning it on her own. Everything showed that the night in question had meant something to her – something that she wanted to keep for herself, to cherish and to remember.

Had it been JJ in front of her, Emily would have felt comfortable sharing everything, to the very last detail. But with Martha she felt weird, so she decided to focus on everything else and to just briefly touch up on the fact that it hadn't been all platonic after all.

"Sounds like a fun week, indeed." Martha was at the loss of words, so _those_ were the only ones that rolled off her tongue, as soon as she opened her mouth.

"It was! That's what sucks about it! It was nauseatingly fun, enjoyable, romantic even. We held hands!" Emily raised her voice with her last statement. "Eww, I, Emily Prentiss, held hands and actually enjoyed it!"

"Wait, didn't you say it was Lauren?" Martha corrected her.

They had previously established that Emily and Lauren were complete opposites, but they were part of the same person – Emily Prentiss. However, Emily had always been good at differentiating between her real self and her Lauren alter ego.

"Here's the thing that trips me the most…" Emily lowered her voice and narrowed her gaze on Martha.

"It started with Lauren and then she hated the guy. He would have bored her out of her mind. He'd be so wrong for Lauren, she might have ended up being the one holding the revolver, against his forehead." Emily rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Somewhere along the way, and I didn't even notice _when_ it happened, Emily came along and she…" Emily licked her lips. This felt so weird to share. "She kind of liked him, okay? But she never told him she wasn't Lauren, so this kind of all went wrong…"

"Did he find out you lied about who you were and that's why he disappeared?" Martha supposed.

"No, he has no idea who I am and he sort of made it clear that he didn't care. Not in a bad way, just…you know, whoever I was, he was enjoying my company regardless." Emily replied.

"Could it have maybe been that he just enjoyed your company for a while and that's all he really wanted from you? Don't take offense, but some guys just like the chase and when they get the prize, they're off to the next prey." Martha shrugged. Her suggestion was what made the most sense to her, not knowing all the details yet.

"You see, I've given this some thought. But no, I don't believe this could have been about the case. Here's the thing – he was genuine. He couldn't have faked the interest he was showing. And I didn't know a thing about him, but I still wanted to…"

"Wanted to…what?" Martha urged her to continue that thought.

"I wanted to see where this might go. For the first time, I wasn't eager to leave. I wasn't bored and I felt like this was actually a good thing, you know, an equal kind of a position. I wasn't the bigger one and I wasn't the lesser one. It wasn't even a competition. It was…fun…light…easy…but not in a meaningless way. It was just…I don't even know the right words…it was…great…yeah, that's what it was. It was actually great." Emily sighed once more.

A lot of trailing off was going on while she spoke and Martha figured it was important for Emily to put it all in the right words, to take her time and to make sure she was eloquent. It all pointed to a genuine side of Emily, one that was finally opening up to her therapist, like a patient was supposed to.

Martha remembered the last time Emily had spoken about a man she was dating, calling him 'Sergio – the perfect man'. That had been nothing but a pile of lies and, even though Martha had suspected it right away, she had let Emily pour it all out, live out that fantasy, pretend like she was fooling her therapist, so she could be cleared for duty.

This time, however, Emily sounded genuine. She was a bit emotional, a bit confused, a bit impatient to figure it all out in under sixty minutes, a bit of a mess, a bit excited and a bit scared. She was in love. This time, this man was surely not a cat. He was surely not a lie. And he was surely not going to make life easy for Emily Prentiss if actions were not taken, instantly.

"So now you wish this could have continued?" Martha asked rhetorically.

Looking at the woman, sitting across from her – on the edge of the sofa, like she was ready to dart out and go search for this guy instantly, Martha knew what Emily really wanted. She didn't need her to admit that and she was sure as Hell Emily would never admit such a ridiculous theory.

"No! He made the choice to leave, so now I have no interest in him anymore!" Emily folded her arms defensively, pouting like a child.

Why, of course Emily would build up to some huge revelation, only to then turn around and deny it all, in a split second, throwing a tantrum.

So much for trying to open up and be honest with her therapist.

"Yup, is that why you barged into my office?" Martha smirked. She knew how to work Emily up.

"Fine. I guess I wished I had the chance to see where it could have gone. But not anymore." Emily shrugged.

"Great, this means you're ready to move on then." Martha said with a faint smile.

She was painfully aware of what Emily wanted, but if Emily wasn't going to be honest with her therapist, then Martha would make Emily sweat until she'd come out and say those words out loud.

"Whatever. I just need you to make it stop!" Emily said a bit snappily.

"Define 'it'."

"It - you know, the constant thinking about him and wondering _what if_. The fact that I was a complete idiot when I bought a bottle of his perfume and that it's a quarter used now, because I keep spraying it all around my apartment. The dreams I keep having about him and please don't make me elaborate on what kind of dreams those are…" Emily trailed off before she'd share too much.

"Ah, _that_ 'it'." Martha gulped.

Yes, they were most definitely not friends and it most definitely felt extremely awkward to hear Emily hint about such intimate things, after she had spent years avoiding that topic, in therapy.

Emily was so conflicted by Martha's short reply.

"Well, I really don't know what to say, but judging by that death stare you're giving me right about now I'd say you want me to give you advice, so I suppose I should do that before you wave that imaginary revolver around again." Martha spoke softly, giving herself enough time to think of how to word it all.

"I suppose, the way I see it, you have two options – try to work things out with him, be honest with him, and maybe start that conversation with who you really are, not who you were pretending to be…" Martha stated the first option and Emily cringed instantly.

"Yeah, not a chance. What's option number two?" Emily asked right away.

"Move on. It's the healthy thing to do. You've been in meaningless relationships your entire life, Emily. You just met someone now, who taught you that not every relationship is meaningless. He showed you that you can actually have fun and care about a guy. Yes, he hurt you in the end, but he taught you a lesson. Take that and move on, find another guy who makes you feel this way…"

"There is no other guy like him…" Emily muttered quietly.

"You don't know that!" Martha countered right away. "You thought that before you met _him_ and then he made you change your mind. You don't know if one day you'll meet someone you'll like even more than this guy. It's possible."

"No, it isn't." Emily said, not even trying to be rude.

It was the truth. With Richard she had felt something different, something she was fairly sure she would never have again, with any other man.

"Can I give you a small task?" Martha asked.

It was one thing she liked to do with her patients, when she was trying to communicate something to them, but they weren't listening. She would then give them a task, to help them come to the conclusion themselves.

"Give this a try. Go out on five dates. Okay? Try to figure out what you like about those five guys, what they do to make you feel good. Try to picture yourself with them, five years from now. Try to imagine how they would fit into your world. Don't compare them to this one guy you were just telling me about. Just give them a clean slate, let them get to know you – and I mean the real you, not a fake name and fake identity! After five dates, see if any guy made you feel the way this other man made you feel."

"Richard. His name is Richard. You know, like the famous French pastry shops." Emily stated lamely, realizing Martha had to keep calling him 'the guy', as she didn't know his name yet.

"That's a beautiful name. Powerful meaning, too." Martha said politely. "Can you do this, Emily? Go on five dates and give those five guys a chance."

Up until the moment she flew to Paris, Emily would have enjoyed this task, a lot. She enjoyed random dates, she had always liked them because of the 'no strings attached' side of this meaningless dating thing.

But not now. Now, she found herself cringing. She found her heart beating a little faster. She found herself wondering if those five dates would be five times that she'd cheat on Richard. Then again, she realized this thing with Richard was just a fantasy that she had created in her mind. He was gone, he had made it clear that he didn't want to fall in love with her – or rather, Lauren; and he had disappeared.

Then, why the Hell would he leave his phone number? Emily had dealt with mixed signals from men for years, but so far Richard was the mystery that kept on giving, even miles away, without any contact with her. He was in her dreams, constantly.

Sometimes she would close her eyes and be a complete dork, just imagining her future. In one of her fantasies she was Director of the FBI - this was the boldest fantasy she had ever allowed herself to have.

In another fantasy, she was still Unit Chief, JJ was now full time assisting her with the Boss tasks, Morgan was back on the team and everything was normal. They would spend their Friday nights eating Mexican food at their favorite little restaurant and sometimes the girls would go Salsa dancing on a Saturday night. The entire team would still celebrate the important things in life, in Rossi's backyard. But that was kind of the reality she was living in. It wasn't a fairly big fantasy, more like a nicer version of what life felt like, a fantasy that included one of her best friends…Morgan.

Then there was her fantasy of having a child. A daughter. A little girl who would worship her, she'd want to wear her clothes, play with her make-up and Emily would pretend to be upset about it, but deep down inside she'd be screaming with joy. She would have given this girl everything – love and attention, the ones she never received from her own parents, growing up in a broken home, with two political figures.

And, in her recent fantasies, no matter which version she'd daydream about, there would always be a part where Richard would show up. If she was Director, Richard was at her meetings. If she was the Unit Chief with the perfect team and a balanced out life, Richard would be at all those outings, Rossi's backyard parties, nights out dancing. And if she was a mother, Richard would be the one her daughter would call 'daddy' and go cuddle up to in the morning while her mommy made breakfast.

Emily knew those were just fantasies and once she'd close her eyes she was sadly unable to control what she saw – what her conscious showed her, what her heart really desired. Was it really _that_ far-fetched, anyway? Wasn't there, maybe, a way that some of this could become reality?

Emily felt like she was sweating. Coming back from her mental journey in Fantasy-Land, she realized she was still sitting opposite Martha, who had been kind enough to give her a few minutes, to analyze those thoughts that had taken over her.

"Five dates, huh?" Emily repeated, trying to let it sink in. "How on Earth is that going to help me get over someone I want?"

Martha was extremely proud of herself. Through the years she had found the best way to have Emily Prentiss say the truth and the sweetest part was how Emily never figured it out.

If Martha had asked her whether she wanted this Richard guy or not, Emily would have denied continuously. Then why not resort to a bit less of a forward method?

"Like you said – this relationship cannot go forward and it did not sound like you wanted it to, anyway. You are smart enough to know that the best thing to do now is to move on. Maybe one out of those five guys will be _it_, for you. You can't know until you give it a try." Martha explained.

It all made Emily pout. It sounded wrong, like she was betraying Richard, like she was scratching out that insane connection they had, erasing it from her memories, erasing him from her thoughts. It felt like she was betraying herself too, in the process – like she was going against everything her heart wanted.

"Fine. Three dates!" Emily stated after a minute of deep thinking.

"Five dates." Martha repeated very calmly.

"Two dates?" Emily kept on bargaining and it made Martha laugh.

"Are you completely unfamiliar with the art of negotiation?" Martha could not help but say it out loud.

"Please, let's not offend each other." Emily smirked.

She was the master of negotiation and mind games. She was also the master of denial.

"Five dates!" Martha, however, was the master of getting Emily to do and say whatever she needed her to.

"Fine. Whatever. Five dates. They're all going to flank anyway, so who cares!?" Emily said sarcastically.

"Why would you say that? You haven't even chosen who to go out with!"

"Because I know so. Years of experience in making myself look like a complete fool when I try dating have confirmed my previous statement. Trust me, it's _always_ awkward and it never goes anywhere other than a hook up. And God, maybe that's for the better. I mean, I've been with the most random selection of guys, all of whom bored the crap out of me and I could not wait for it to be over. And please do not make me define 'it'." Emily shied away.

"But then you finally found this one guy who was different. He made you believe that there are guys out there who would be compatible with you – your character, your lifestyle, your sense of humor. Isn't that so?" Martha pushed it one more time. Maybe this time Emily would confirm it?

"No!" Emily replied with the utmost certainty. "Not guys. _Him_! Okay? Richard! Him! Ugh!" She added with a groan.

Martha started wondering whether Emily was as smart as she claimed to be. How was she not seeing the obvious?

"We have fifteen minutes left now. Want to discuss that third part of you?" Martha changed the topic before Emily would have a heart attack from all the denying and thinking to herself, trying to command herself not to care.

When she had walked in earlier, she had expressed her troubles with feeling like she was divided in three, but so far she was only discussing two of those characters.

"Nope. Weirdly, Emily Prentiss is doing quite a good job in keeping that third part of me sane. I kind of feel like she is slowly acquiring the jewel that she's always wanted in life. It's a lot of hard work and it drains the energy out of my body and soul. But it is so worth it. She's happy."

"Is that jewel the thing we discussed, years ago?"

Emily nodded.

"Good. I am happy for you. For as long as I can remember working with you, this seems to be the thing you've wanted the most, in life. _'__My biggest desire, my biggest regret'_…isn't that how you worded it?"

"Woah, I said that a decade ago! I can't believe you remember that!" Emily could not hide how impressed she was with Martha's memory.

"Emily, this is the pinpoint of your life, of course I remember it. If I may, this is the one recurring problem you've had for years. It's part of why you never allowed yourself to connect to someone again. You were afraid of how it might end."

"No, I was afraid I knew exactly how it would end – with me leaving. I always do that. I always disappoint the people I love." Emily frowned, searching for a bottle of water.

"And do you think that now, after all these years of wanting this jewel, you might finally be ready to give it all of your love and attention and to promise not to leave?"

"Absolutely!" Emily didn't even have to think about it.

She had lost sleep over this, multiple nights in a row, especially lately. This is all she had ever wanted in life and she wasn't going to jeopardize it. Not again. Not with _this_ precious jewel that she was working so hard to obtain. Not now. Not after all the years of suffering, after the loss.

"Good, because as I am sure you know by now, jewels are pretty, but they break easily and there are just so many times a jewel can be repaired before it snaps."

Martha's words made all the sense in the world.

"It's not just a jewel. It's a precious diamond. It's rock solid, but I'm afraid even in this case I've been able to break it in the past. So yeah, I swear to God I'll do my best to never even scratch its surface again. It's beautiful, it makes me happy and it is everything I ever wanted…" Emily kept dancing around the same conclusion.

"This is part of why I feel so conflicted with Lauren now. How could I not be grateful to have a jewel in my life, as Emily? Why did I have to go out and pretend to be Lauren again? Why did I have to…" Emily trailed off, realizing she was going to say something big.

"…Fall for a guy?" Martha suggested with a smile.

Emily did not confirm that, but she also did not deny it.

"Who says you can't have both?" Martha questioned.

"Then there's also the Emily Prentiss in me who wants her team, her job… I mean, I can't have all three. But then again, I could never deny myself either of those things. I just cannot! And no matter how hard I try, there just isn't a universe in which I could have all three, together. It is not possible! Trust me, I've thought about it a million times, but it's like they are all on different continents…quite literally, actually."

Emily sighed and relaxed her back against the sofa.

She remembered her new task and she wasn't too happy about it. Years ago, even just months ago, she would have been beyond ecstatic to have been ordered to go meet five different guys. Hell, Martha never put a time frame to it, so if she wanted to, she could do that in under 24 hours. The old Emily – Emily, the player, would have considered herself lucky to have been graced with such a green light.

And yet, at that very moment, sitting across from Martha, she felt nothing but anger and the first signs of disappointment. How could she do this? Somehow she knew she didn't even want to do this. It felt wrong.

"We have already established that Lauren is part of you. And you already said that it wasn't Lauren who was interested in this man. Excuse my curiosity, but why are you still distinguishing between yourself and her?" Martha had tried her best to keep up, but something wasn't adding up.

"Ok, therein lies the problem – Richard doesn't have a clue that I am not Lauren. So, technically, I am Lauren, but I'm Emily. See? There was a logical explanation to everything…"

Martha took a deep breath before she spoke again. "May I ask what that explanation is?"

In her mind, nothing could explain why Emily would put herself in such a situation. She was a smart woman, she wouldn't have done such a dumb thing.

Emily then briefly explained how she needed a week off, so she had pretended to be Lauren, but she never imagined she'd end up so attached to someone and thus, so confused as to how she could possibly tell him she had been lying to him, the entire time they had spent together.

"So, clearly I couldn't just tell him I'm Emily. Right? Logical explanation! I told you!" Emily grinned at the end of her mini speech.

Martha regretted not having had any Botox. Surely that would have helped her keep her forehead in check and not raise her eyebrows this much, while listening to all the insane things Emily was saying. The hard part was yet to come – Martha had no right to judge Emily or to tell her what a stupid decision this had been. Emily needed to hear that from a friend. What her therapist could do was to help her figure it out, on her own, without including her own opinion, which would prove to be extremely hard.

"Logical explanation…right?" Emily repeated her question, with a desperately clenched jaw.

So far, she had kept her secret from everyone else, so she had somewhat managed to convince herself that she had done the right thing, as there was literally no one else who could disprove that theory. In her head, Richard was the one to blame for how things had ended. She had only ever told Morgan about her week in Paris and Morgan had been a good friend, refraining from telling her his inner thoughts. In his mind, Richard's letter was not a break-up letter, but a desperate cry for something more, something he wanted from Emily, or rather Lauren. There was no doubt in Morgan's head that somewhere out there in this world, there was now a man, named Richard, obsessing over a woman, named Lauren, upset over the fact that he had been forced to leave.

Then there was JJ, who knew some of it, but not all. Emily hadn't opened up about the way she really felt. She hadn't expressed her desires and what this week left her longing for. JJ never heard about those dreams that Emily had on a nightly basis. She just knew there was a guy and that the letter that Henry had accidentally brought home was the end of this non-existent relationship between him and Emily.

However, now that she was telling someone else – a therapist moreover, one whom Emily had no intention of lying to anymore, even if she wasn't telling the entire truth either; things seemed different. She was slowly realizing her mistake with this guy. If he hadn't had to leave for whatever reason he might have had, he surely would not have stayed, if Emily told him the truth so late down the road.

What if it wasn't his fault, after all? What if, even if this was the first time in her life when Emily did not have the urge to leave, she had managed to ruin a beautiful thing anyway?

"Right?" Emily asked for the third time, now preoccupied by the silence she had received from Martha, each time she had asked.

"Have you told any of this, to a friend?" Martha asked a question, without answering Emily's one, because no – this was most definitely not a logical explanation to the mess that Emily had just found herself in.

"No…" Emily sighed. "Not up to _that_ extent…"

"I think you might need to give this some more thought. This time, maybe, try to be realistic, okay? Try to figure out what would be the best thing for Emily, because you _are_ her, after all. And if that doesn't work out, you still have the assignment - the five dates. Give it a go. See how dating makes you feel right now. Give people a chance, Emily. I know it sounds banal, but it's something you never do. Maybe try to work on that, okay?" Martha said calmly.

If she was Emily's friend, she would have had a lot more to say. She would tell her to screw the pride and the hurt over being left, and to go get the guy she felt so strongly about. She would also tell her that she was being incredibly dumb, to not acknowledge the fact that she was so into this man. She'd tell her it was a beautiful thing, to finally feel such a connection with another human being, after years of trying and failing. And, if they were friends, Martha would tell her all that, and more, over a nice relaxing evening with a few bottles of wine at their disposal.

"I _have_ given it enough thought. I cannot have all three things, at the same time. I can barely figure out a way to have _one_ of them, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm a complete egoist and I want all three. Okay? I want all three and that's it! For once, I can be an egoist and believe that maybe one day I can have all three. Right?" Emily eyed Martha, once more asking confirmation that she then did not receive.

Nobody could give Emily the certainty that she needed. It wouldn't be realistic. Nobody knew all the details, so it was entirely up to Emily to figure it all out, for herself.

She walked out of Martha's office even more confused. Thankfully, she was busy for the rest of the day, so she didn't have the time to stress over it until she clocked out. And that was when her struggles started.

_"__Please tell me you're here!"_ Emily shot a quick text to SSA Clara Seger in the evening.

_"__Here, home? Yes, I am. Just got back from a case in Morocco. What's up, love?"_ Clara texted back almost instantly.

_"__You and I are going out tonight. Drinks are on me. I'll see you in an hour."_ Emily texted and hurried to take a shower and get ready to crush her assignment. Or more specifically – to be done with it and to not have to stress over it any more.

* * *

"Wow, Emily…damn…" Clara said, as soon as she laid eyes on Emily.

They had met at a bar that same evening and Clara was practically drooling over Emily, with her dress on, those heels, the make-up, the hair.

"Yeah, I need to find a date." Emily stated, walking quickly towards the bar.

If she had to go through five random dates, she'd do so _drunk_ and that was a fact.

"What's with the urgency?" Clara chuckled.

She had been Emily's wing woman plenty of times, but Emily had never sounded so desperate, like she was running out of time and things had to be done immediately.

"Not the kind of urgency you might be thinking of." Emily stated, not giving Clara the time to connect that urgency with a certain other night out they had once been on, where Emily had met Clara with the words: _I'm hooking up tonight and I don't care who with_.

"Ah…" Clara pretended like it was all clear.

It most certainly was not clear, not even to Emily. She had no freaking clue what she was doing, but she had literally been ordered to do it, so she was set on rushing through her five dates and getting them over and done with as quickly as possible.

"Oh, you smell nice. Have you already had a date tonight?" Clara asked, taking a step towards Emily and sensing a certain male perfume, mixed with her own.

How could Emily start to explain the reason why she smelled like Richard's perfume, if Clara hadn't even heard about Richard at all yet?

"Oh, did your date go wrong? So now you need another one, because, well, you're in the mood, as always?" Clara added with a smirk.

"Shut up, I'm not _always_ in the mood!" Emily said defensively, receiving a disapproving look from her friend. "Okay, fine. I might be a bit of a…you know what? Never mind! I need to find the least attractive guy here and I need to have him ask me out on a date. And vodka. God, I need vodka so desperately right now. Hey? Maybe give your customers a second of your precious time, no?" She ended off with her hand in the air, shouting for the bartender who hadn't yet given her any attention.

"Well, you're not going out with _him_…" Clara chuckled, noticing how annoyed the bartender was with Emily's rude outburst.

"Great, I'm twice his age anyway." Emily said grumpily, scanning the bar for anyone who was remotely around her own age and who seemed like they weren't a serial killer, or married.

"Well, good luck with the hunt. This place is dead. Honestly, the only semi-presentable human beings here are those two women over there." Clara pointed at a table of two friends who must have been on the hunt as well, much like Emily and her.

"Honestly, I'll take it. She didn't specify a gender." Emily said with a scoff, remembering how Martha vaguely told her to go on 'five dates'. How generously inclusive of her.

"Oh, wow, Emily…someone is feeling extra naughty tonight. How so?" Clara said with a wink. "Wait, _she_? Who is she?"

"_She_ is my therapist. And Jesus, Clara, I'm not twenty-five anymore. Although, that brunette one sure looks like a snack." Emily said with a cheeky smile, looking at one of the two women Clara had just spoken about.

"What am I even doing?" Emily added, with a sigh. "Why did I think this would be a good idea?"

"Uhm, because I believe you might have remembered certain…fun…from years ago? And you might have been curious for some more?" Clara shot the brunette woman a glance and Emily hit her shoulder.

"Shut up. That's not what I meant. And I'm done exploring the world and all of its diverse beauty. I know what I want now…" Emily trailed off. "And I don't want random dates…" She whispered to herself, with a frown.

At that very moment she realized that this task - those five dates, sounded like the most ridiculous and horrible thing she could ever put herself through. She hated the idea of having to force herself to smile at another man, to flirt with another man, to even think of kissing another man, if that man was not the man her heart already desired.

"Let's get out of here?" Emily added, looking at Clara.

Emily has not yet begun her task and she was already done with it. The Hell with worthless dating.

"I was going to offer you a drink first, but if you insist, let's go!" Some man butted in, coming up from behind her, with this line that was supposed to make her heart melt, or so he thought apparently.

"Uh, who the Hell are you?" Emily turned around, facing the jerk who had dared approach her like this.

"Is the name important?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly thinking he was acting cool.

"Honestly? No. Not at all. You're just a number." Emily said a bit stand-offish.

She did not give a crap how her words came out. She didn't want to be there, she didn't want to date five men and she definitely did not care who those guys were, as long as it was over and done with. She hated failing assignments more than she hated bad dates anyway. So, she'd give this dating crap a shot, she'd bomb it like she knew she ultimately would and she'd go home with a clear conscious.

At least that was what she thought.

"Hold on a second…" Emily said with her pointy finger in the air, making him freeze in place.

Apparently, this was the kind of effect she had on men – this dude did not know a single thing about her, he had no idea she was a boss lady, and yet she was able to immobilize him with just the raising of one finger.

She then dragged Clara to the table of those two women they were discussing earlier, and she took it upon her to leave Clara in good hands.

"Ok, girls, here's how it is: you two and us two are out to find someone. Turns out, I don't care who it is, so I'm out the door with this senseless jerk over there…" Emily stated, pointing at the man who was still waiting for her by the bar. "And this right here is my amazing friend Clara whom I'm leaving in your hands. So, drink, eat, drink some more, enjoy, dance, talk…I honestly don't care what you do. I'm out. Ok? See you." Emily said in a hurry, leaving Clara her credit card, to pay for everything as she had promised.

"Oh and…" She then turned to face the brunette woman. "Damn!" Emily added, eyeing her up and down with a tiny flirtatious grin.

The woman was wearing quite the revealing dress and she managed to pull it off, despite her age. Emily had to give her credit for it.

Then she left, with the guy that she already hated. Wanting some privacy, they walked to the nearest bar down the street and entered. He did not hold the door for her, not that she cared, but it would have been a nice gesture after all.

Clara spent the next hour getting to know those two women that Emily had so generously bounced her off to, and it turned out they were quite funny to hang out with. One was a nurse and the other one's job Clara had to ask about five times before she gave up trying to understand it and just continued drinking. It was something legal, documents about property or whatever. Clara did not give a damn anyway. It was just fun to meet new people. She could have easily gone home, but after all the preparation she had put in for that night out, she wanted to hang out some more. Plus, those women were quite smart and educated, so what could be the harm?

The brunette nurse had asked Clara if Emily was trying to flirt with her or she was maybe reading way too much into that compliment and Clara, if she had to be honest with herself, had no idea how to reply to that question. Emily had her ways of speaking to people where one would never know if she was joking or not. Clara and her had been calling each other cute flirty nicknames for years now, also Emily and JJ were practically work wives and professed their eternal love for each other on a daily basis, and at any occasion where alcohol was involved. Also, Clara had known a wild party Emily in her earlier years, so she knew things. So, she had no idea what was in Emily's head when she complimented people – specifically women; in such a direct, flirty manner. She'd probably compliment even a dog, the same exact way. It confused Clara.

* * *

"So, tell me about yourself?" The guy asked Emily, as soon as they sat down.

"My name is Samantha and I'm from New York. I'm here for work, I leave tomorrow afternoon." She said quickly, without much planning.

It was the first thing that came to her mind and she went with it. Who cared anyway? She had absolutely no intention of ever seeing this man again, beyond this one failed attempt at a date. He really was just a number for her – one out of a total of five. He was part of her homework, in a way.

"I'm Thomas, I live in Seattle and I'm-…" He then went on a rant all about himself.

Emily lost him at the first few words. She didn't even catch his name and she most certainly did not care to know where he lived or what he did for a living.

And then she realized she was cheating – Martha had told her to give those five guys a fair chance and Emily had been putting up walls from the second she saw him. Then again, it wasn't her fault that he had approached her in the most arrogant of ways, with the most idiotic catch phrase. He didn't deserve to be treated any better. In her mind, Emily was doing more than she should, considering the circumstances. She was known for coming up with excuses for her actions, when it came to her personal life, and this was no exception.

"It's not going to be a problem, is it?" He asked, at the end of his rant.

"Huh?" Emily snapped out of her mental state of hating herself for taking up on this task.

"The fact that I've been married twice and that I have three kids - it's not going to be a problem, right?" He repeated his question.

Emily was taken aback. She wouldn't care if a man she was interested in had previously been married, but it was a bit alarming when this was the first question to come out of his mouth.

Richard had also been married and he had spoken with nothing but affection, when it came to that marriage and his wife. As she made that parallel, she found herself sniffing the end of a strand of her hair while this Thomas guy kept on ranting about whatever.

It smelled like him – her hair smelled like Richard and that made her smile. Clara had earlier sensed that same male perfume on Emily and she had figured Emily had been out with someone, before meeting with her. The truth was – even when she was leaving her house for a night of failed attempts at dating, she could simply not deny herself the pleasure of spraying some of Richard's perfume on her. This wasn't cheating, it was just…bending the rules a little bit.

This time, she didn't even realize she was drawing parallels. Honestly, five minutes into this date and she was way over it already, so why not entertain herself while this guy went on…and on…and on about himself.

"Do you?" Thomas asked again, trying to grab her attention, for the second time now.

"Do I what?" She asked, completely oblivious to the fact that he had, yet again, spoken about something in great detail and she had, yet again, ignored him completely.

He repeated his question and she was zoned out, despite her best efforts to understand the question better, the second time around.

"Yes, sure, mhm…" She replied absentmindedly.

The guy then elaborated on that proposal of his and Emily yawned. There was one thing that could keep her awake…

"…so we can't go to my place." He ended off yet another speech, during which Emily had been thinking about Richard's abs, about the way her fingers had brushed against his chest that one night that she could still see so vividly, in her dreams.

"Wait, why not?" She asked, out of pure curiosity.

It was painfully obvious what this guy wanted from her, which was a great reason why he was number one on her dating list – he wanted it, she wasn't going to give it to him, and yet she could still call this a 'date'...technically.

"Because my second wife is coming home with the kid and I don't know what time." He repeated.

"Weren't you divorced like, a minute ago?" Of course she would call him out in such a savage way.

Technically he had told her he had been married twice, but he never mentioned two divorces.

"Well…yeah. I mean. I was. I mean, I am. It's just that we haven't signed the papers yet." He stuttered in the lamest of ways.

Richard, on the other hand, had never stuttered. He had been proud to speak his mind, even when his opinion was different than Emily's. He had never backed down and agreed with her, just for the sake of it. He had spoken with confidence.

"So, you are just separated, not divorced?" She kept on asking, because at this point not even a miracle could save the disaster that this date really was.

"I guess so. She hasn't moved out yet…"

"So, let me get this straight. You are married, with three kids and it's not that your ex-wife is dropping over unannounced, but its rather that you want to be an ass and cheat on her, in the home that you clearly still both live in, instead of having the balls and the decency to sign those papers and get your own damn place." Emily said with a smirk.

Somehow, she had started enjoying this disastrous date, now that it allowed her to be her ironic self. Plus, it came with a free drink.

"Well…" He stuttered one more time and she swore if he did it again she would take her shoe off and stick it down his throat until he would suffocate. She could not stand his arrogant ass.

"You know what? I'm done! I'm going to have a wonderful time with my friend and we are going to get smashed with vodka and then I am going home, to my bed, on my own. And I'm fine with it. Hell, considering the alternative…" She ended off with the typical Prentiss eye roll and a scoff.

Next thing she knew, she was back at the other bar, dancing the night away with Clara and her two new best friends, laughing and having the best time imaginable.

Maybe this was what Emily needed – a night out, with the girls, giving each other innocent flirty compliments and making each other feel good. What woman would not like to hear that her hair looked good or that her dress made her look amazing? Emily did not need a man, to validate her. She needed her girlfriends to just let loose and to have some fun, with her, at some horrible bar, with horrible music and even more horribly mixed cocktails.

"What was up with the number reference earlier?" Clara asked at some point.

"My therapist told me to go on five dates. I wanted to be done with at least one tonight. I'm done. I'm having a great time! Maybe I should go on more dates!" Emily yelled on top of the music.

Both were beyond tipsy at that point, so it didn't really matter what was being said, as long as the music kept going and the vodka kept being poured, as bad as they both were anyway.

"The only reason you are enjoying tonight is because you are with us." Clara pointed out.

"Exactly!" Emily agreed while busting a move.

"You sure your friend is straight?" The brunette woman asked Clara, laughing.

"After so much vodka, is _any_ of us straight? Come on!" Clara grinned and grabbed Emily, dragging her towards the bar for another round.

At some point, Clara went from okay to tipsy and then from tipsy straight to downright bonkers. Emily was enjoying that, as the last time they had been out on a girls night together Clara had been the designated driver and had not been able to drink more than half a cocktail. Sober Clara Seger was fun, which was why Emily had remained friends with her all these years. But drunk Clara Seger was a circus and Emily often found herself nearly peeing in her pants, crying from laughter after the dumb things drunk Clara would do or say.

For the next round of cocktails Emily singled Clara out, leaving her at the table with the blonde woman, while she and the brunette went to the bar. Just minutes later they went back to a very enjoyable sight.

"Damn, Seger, who's the naughty girl now!?" Emily laughed, watching a drunk off her ass Clara peck lips with the blonde woman.

"You are _never_ to bring up certain past events and hold them against me again, is that clear?" Emily told Clara off with a smirk.

"I'll repeat that tomorrow, when you sober your ass up." Emily added, as Clara barely registered that someone was even talking to her.

This night reminded Emily of her twenties and all the fun she had with Clara. They'd go for drinks, go meet boys and they'd do inappropriate things that good girls like Angela Hunter would never even dare think about.

Clara liked to remind Emily of her naughty past, but it wasn't like Clara was an angel, either. They both knew things about each other and none of them regretted their past. They had been having a blast and it felt damn good that they were still able to let loose and to tease each other, to party like they were still in their twenties.

* * *

"Shit…" Emily mumbled, exiting the Uber that took her home that night after dropping Clara off at her own home first.

Her heel got stuck, or at least that was what she thought, and she swayed towards the bushes on one side of the alley in front of her apartment complex.

In reality, she was way too intoxicated to stand on her feet, so she naturally swayed to the side when she tried to stand up and walk in a straight line. It also did not help that the alley had at least five curves from where the Uber had left her off, to the entrance of the building.

"Nope…" She kept on talking to herself a few minutes later when she had finally managed to get to the entrance and she found herself trying to figure out which one of the fifty keys on that huge key-chain was the right one for that door. They all seemed the same, at this point.

"Nah…" She discarded the seventh key that she had tried and she was starting to get grumpy.

Why did she have to put her home keys, work keys, car keys and all sort of keys that she no longer uses, on the same chain…and then bring them to a bar?

"May I help you with that?" A male voice came from behind her.

She groaned in annoyance and kept on trying on her own. She did not need a man to help her with anything, not even when she was drunk beyond repair.

The guy stood behind her patiently, waiting for a couple more minutes before he spoke again.

"Madam, please let me get the door for you?" He nearly begged her.

The more she struggled with the door, the more he had to wait, in order to get in, as well.

She moved to the side and motioned for the door.

"It's broken!" She said lamely, as an excuse to why she was taking this long.

He put his key in and unlocked it in less than two seconds before he looked at her with a smile.

"After you…" He said, like a true gentleman.

Emily walked in, stumbling at least three more times until she reached the elevator.

She knew him – he was one of her neighbors and she had seen him many times before. She just knew nothing _about_ him. He was about her age, visibly, which made the fact that he had just called her 'Madam' _this_ much more disturbing.

"I can accompany you to your floor." He suggested, hoping he wasn't coming off as a creep.

"Nope. _I_ can accompany _you_!" Emily argued, using the first words that popped in her head before she realized this was not what she meant.

"I mean, _you_ can accompany _me_!" She tried once again, but it still was not what she meant.

"Wait, I can do this…" She took a deep breath and finally said it. "_I_ can accompany _me_!"

He let out a small laugh. Even drunk off her ass, this woman was still the stubborn person he knew her to be. He had once seen her give the postal box downstairs a piece of her mind once, because while opening it she had cut her finger on a piece of metal that was sticking out. Then there was this time when he had seen her kick the front tire of her car when it was malfunctioning and she was clearly in a hurry to be somewhere. And then there were the many occasions when he had seen her walk to her car in the morning, yelling at someone on the phone. Not even yelling, but rather – telling people what to do. Emily was great at intimidating people and getting what she wanted, so she liked to do her phone business in the morning – calling to change her home internet plan or to cancel a magazine subscription she never even wanted in the first place.

"Rough night?" He smirked.

God knows what had driven this otherwise stubborn woman to get hammered and to act twice as stubborn, at half past three o'clock at night.

He, on the other hand, had the innocent excuse of coming back from a late shift at work.

"Terrible night! I went on a date." Emily rested her back against the elevator door, unknowingly preventing it from closing.

He could not muster enough courage to tell her to move. It was way too late at night, so even if they blocked the elevator for a few minutes, nobody would even care, nor need to use it anyway.

"Oh, sounds like a terrible night indeed." He kept on smiling because after a twelve-hour shift at work he was exhausted and he looked like crap and yet this woman managed to look presentable and somewhat energetic after all the drinking she had done.

"No, it was actually great. Well, not the date – that was a disaster. The making out with another woman was great!" She chuckled with her last words.

"Oh?" He exclaimed in surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be offensive. I just figured you were on a date with a _guy_."

"I was. Until I wasn't…" In her mind, Emily replayed certain events from the night and kept on grinning like an idiot.

"Now I'm confused and I choose to believe you hated the date with the guy so much that you felt the need to go kiss a woman after that. And in this case, this is the best part of my day. Thank you for cheering me up." He said honestly.

"Oh, no. For once, weirdly, I wasn't the one doing all the naughty kissing. Nope. It was my friend Clara. She really needs to cut me some slack. I was done with my exploring in my 20's and apparently she's still in the mood. Can't blame her. Although, the brunette was hotter, but hey, whatever rocks her boat, right?" Emily slurred a few of her words and the guy tried really hard not to laugh.

She was extremely entertaining to watch, after all the hard work he had put in that day. It was fun to finally talk to this woman whom he had only ever seen around the building, but had never spoken to, directly.

"So, how about I make sure you open the door to your apartment quickly and then I leave you to get some sleep?" He suggested, but he spoke way too fast and way too normally. Emily only registered half of his words.

"And then maybe I can take you out on a date tomorrow night? For the record – I wouldn't have a problem if you decided to make out with a woman, during our date." He added smartly, because really – what man would not get a kick from _that_?

"Date?" This was all Emily heard and it was enough for her to start nodding.

This had been extremely easy – two dates in 24 hours! She was almost halfway done with her task by the end of the same day that Martha had suggested it. In her drunk state of mind, Emily considered herself to be all sorts of awesome, at this moment.

"Yes, tomorrow. There's a new Thai food place…" He said while searching for its card in his pockets. He had been there for lunch a few days ago and he had liked it.

Emily grabbed the card and smiled. The first failed date treated her with only just a drink, but this time she was getting a whole meal out of it. To a drunk Emily Prentiss, this was an awesome deal.

"Tomorrow at nine?" She suggested, not giving a damn about the fact that she was barely done with one night of dating, before she was already making plans for the next one.

"Yes. They have amazing wine, so I'd advise you to Uber there, enjoy however many drinks that you wish, and then I'll drive us back home. I mean, here…to the building where we both live in." He suggested and she was game for it.

Emily agreed to half of what she heard, a quarter of which she understood and none of which she would actually remember in the morning. Why the Hell not? She was a grown up and she had been ordered to go date men, so that was exactly what she planned on doing in the next few days.

He managed to somehow lure her further inside the elevator until the censors of the doors were uncovered and they were finally able to move towards Emily's floor. He helped Emily find the right key to her apartment door and then he said goodnight, leaving her to enter on her own. He had previously seen her pissed off and he did not want to risk giving the wrong impression of maybe wanting to take advantage of her, while drunk. In his mind, there was no doubt this woman would jump at him with a butcher knife, if she felt threatened.

What he didn't know was _who_ she was and _what_ she did for a living. If he knew Emily was with the FBI, he most probably would not have even dared ask her out. It was the effect her title had on people and she hated it, in terms of dating. It always made things awkward and she felt a lot less confident than she would have, if the guy did not expect her to be amazing, perfect, superhuman…just because she was a Federal Agent.

It was also the reason why she had opted for keeping the truth from Richard and as far as she was concerned – she had made the right choice. For the entire week with him she had felt and acted like herself, without having to meet anyone's high expectations. It had been refreshing. She appreciated the fact that Richard had accepted her with the little that he knew about her and with the lot that she had let him see. In a way, Richard had the advantage of not knowing Emily's real identity and that was precisely why he got the privilege to get to know the _real_ Emily, instead of Lauren – she felt comfortable being herself, she felt good around him.

"Ugh!" She groaned, now standing under the running water in the shower, realizing that after one date being done and the second one being safely set for the next day, she had somehow still managed to find herself finishing the night off, naked, wet and thinking about Richard instead.

She also realized she had forgotten to switch the hot water on, so for a few seconds now she had been standing under the ice cold running water, being warmed up by nothing else but the memories of _him_ – the person she was apparently unable to stop thinking about.

_"__Find another person you may like even more…"_ Emily quoted Martha's words, with a very sarcastic intonation, followed by her Prentiss world-wide famous eye roll.

"Another person, my ass!" She added snappily, pretending like the shower cabin door was Martha and that she was giving her a piece of her mind.

"I don't want _another_ person!" She kept on mumbling, using hand soap on her hair, because really, in her current state anything semi-liquid that made bubbles could be called a shampoo and thus, used as such.

"What's wrong with _that_ person?" She was now sprawling hair reviving oil all over her neck and arms, convinced this was her shower gel.

"Who the Hell said I can't have what I want? Huh? Who? I want to know and when I find them, I will obliterate them! I will put an end to their miserable life and I will videotape it so I can watch it later, with a glass of vodka. Oh, vodka…yum, vodka sounds really nice right now…" She licked her lips, only to realize how oily her entire body was, after she had exchanged her shower gel with the hair oil. This would take a lot of scrubbing to be taken care of.

Spitting on the floor and washing her mouth thoroughly after she felt bubbles coming out of it, she decided she no longer needed to brush her fingers through her hair and to wash off the residue of what she believed to be a shampoo. She might regret that decision on the very next day when her hair would be all knotty.

"I kind of really want Richard right now…" She pouted, grabbing the towel and managing to cover none of the body parts that she was aiming for. She practically walked out of the bathroom butt-naked, with the towel covering her stomach and half of her upper body.

"Especially right now…" Her words came out naturally, as soon as she entered her room and saw her bed.

The inevitable wave of tiredness and sleep deprivation hit her and before she knew it, she was spraying her bed sheets with Richard's perfume.

"There…" She smirked, inhaling her now favorite scent. "All better now."

It smelled good, like a mixture of hope, memories and something else…a certain something else was in the air.

"Mmh." With a silent moan of deeply rooted appreciation for the scent of Richard, next to her, she let her head rest on the pillow and just seconds later she was sleeping soundly.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"zhangxinna" **Hiiiii :) Aww, you're so nice! Thanks! Emily is definitely _not_ done trying (for the internship)...trust me! If Hell freezes over, she'll light it up on fire again, so she could then light her Superiors' asses on fire, until Angela gets what she deserves, lol! JJ is being quiet right now, she really made zero effort in making Angela feel welcome. But...is _this_ the real reason why Angie ignores her? (It obviously gets explained later on, but other things need to be revealed first, in order for it to make sense).

French Baguette? No, girl, don't you say that...it makes my mind go places and just...no. Okay? :P LOL! You know "Good things come to those who wait?" Well, you've waited...so...expect good things? :P. Next chapter is with Emily's second date...and then chapter 110 will be uploaded October 12 (because I'm a dork and it's Emily Prentiss' birthday and you can guess how good that chapter will be :P and what might come. No pun intended :P!

Emily is still a disaster in the kitchen, but there are a few dishes she knows how to prepare. She just needs the right reason (person!) to cook (for!).

Also, I might need to change the rating to M, as Emily and Angela have the foulest mouths and the baddest attitude and they say the most inappropriate stuff all the time, lol!

PS: Hope you enjoyed my take on your little idea about Emily and a hair bow :)!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**"rmpcmfan"** WOW, you nailed all the clues! It seems like a cute lil' chapter (107), but trust me there was a LOT underneath the surface.

* The little girl in the torn photo (and the paper that both her and Emily are holding so proudly) WILL be explained later on. It's kind of a MAJOR thing for the story.

* Can't believe you even caught the significance of the necklace pendant!

* LOL You'll one day know _how_ and _why_ Angie was able to crack the gun code so quickly.

* I'm a sucker for the emotional speeches. They drain the crap out of Emily, but Angie seems to be holding up well...or, is she?

* Woah, Emily still sucks in the kitchen! It's just those few dishes that she once learned to cook. This, also, gets explained later on.

* Rossi is a hawk and he knows stuff. Remember that: Rossi knows stuff! Emily refuses to let herself see it. Queen of Denial, after all :)!

* Yup, the French bow clip was in one of my reviews ages ago and I wanted to write a cute meaningful scene. Also, how funny would Emily look with a bow? LOL! It's cute for Angela who is super young-looking, but Emily would look so weird haha, I kind of want her to forget it in her hair that night and to go to work with it, the next morning. Garcia would really like it :)!

* Emily is definitely helping Angela out majorly, with her Monkey problem. She's taking _Angela's_ side, wanting **her** to be okay, to heal. What Monkey did to Angela is eating Emily up inside and she knows it is a super delicate situation (one which Angie REFUSES to ever talk about openly), so she is doing her best to talk in general, without directly addressing whatever issue there is.

* Paris definitely ties up _**a lot**_ of things, for multiple characters. It also helps that I LOVE PARIS, so it's super fun to write that :)!

* I like this dotted list system, lol :)!

* Thanks, it's always nice to hear such nice feedback. Posting one's creations online is a bit scary...every creator likes their work, but they never know if other people would. And of course every creation has its following and it won't be everyone's cup of tea, hehe. VERY SOON one of the big storylines will start moving and I'm excited to share it with everyone. People have been waiting for this and I've given them my word that it would be worth the wait :P

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**"sweetkid45"** Hey, thank you! As for Angie...like I always say - she isn't a genius and she isn't a spoiled little brat who gets things for free...so maybe she won't get the internship she wants. Maybe she will? :) We'll see. But that doesn't mean that people would give up on fighting for her. Expect some drama to take place, LOL!


	109. Angela Hunter Belongs To The BAU

** CHAPTER 109**

_**ANGELA HUNTER BELONGS TO THE BAU !**_

"How is it already Friday?" Emily spoke to herself when her alarm clock went off and she saw a memo on her screen, of something she had scribbled down last night, making sure she wouldn't wake up, sober up and forget all about it.

"Second date tonight…almost half-way done with this pointless assignment. Finally…" She rolled her eyes, getting out of bed and grabbing the first clean black piece of clothing she had in the wardrobe. She simply did not care. If it was black, it would do.

Her phone started buzzing, but she was in no mood to reply. It was dawning on her that it felt just like yesterday, that the BAU enjoyed a dinner with Angela and Bryan, over at her house.

It had now been four days in which she hadn't seen or heard of this girl.

It felt weird.

"Stop buzzing!" Emily threw a towel over her phone, ignoring the caller ID.

She only grabbed that towel ten minutes later, on her way to the bathroom for her morning shower. Also, a little more sober than last night, she finally realized how wrong the showed had gone, so now she had to wash her hair all over again, this time making it a point to use an actual shampoo.

With the corner of her eye she noticed what was written on the screen.

_11 missed calls and two messages from Ben_

Her heart sank. How could she be dumb enough not to answer?

_"PRENTISS! I needed your urgent reply. The Director is coming back in a few days. I'm in Philly with him now and I found a moment to mention that you requested a meeting. I needed you to confirm that you can make it – next Friday at eleven?"_

Emily bit her lips hard, as she read the first message, before she moved to the second one.

_"God, Prentiss, why have a phone at all!? You better make it to that meeting, because I just stuck up for you big time and I managed to set it for you. All confirmed. Official business meeting, for the record. This is all I could do for you. Please, don't screw this up! Good luck!"_

She exhaled, feeling her heart heavy and light, at the same time.

Seconds later, she was canceling other business meetings and errands for the following Friday, leaving the morning exclusively for this new appointment.

_"Thank you so much, Ben! You really are one of the good guys."_

She shot him a quick reply before taking a long, relaxing shower.

* * *

"Congratulations, Trainees! The few of you that remain have officially made it halfway through the Academy." Dan said, standing on the podium, with all the Trainees now looking at him from their seats in the Auditorium.

"This is no time to slack. If anything – you need to push yourselves even harder. The battle for the badge this year is going to be fierce and many of you won't get there. So, imagine failing…and then figure out ways for you _not_ to fail. Okay? Now, off to Hogan's Alley!" His words made a lot of people happy. Including Angela.

"Oh my God, I've been waiting for this!" She said enthusiastically.

Hogan's Alley was a human-made fake 'town' where all Trainees were taught the latest tactical techniques and got immersed in realistic, stressful scenarios where they are expected to incorporate basic tactics, investigative techniques, firearms skills, and defensive tactics in order to make the right decision.

It was nothing like the trainings they had done so far. Here, they'd have real actors, posing as victims and threats, the situations would look absolutely realistic and the adrenaline would be pumping in their veins.

Until that moment, they had learned their theory. They had done enough exams, trainings, experiments. It was now time to have a taste of the real thing, the action.

"Angela, a word?" Dan asked quietly.

"Yes, of course, Sir." She said politely.

By now, she had learned how to tolerate Dan. She had also seen who he really was – acting tough, but really only ever looking out, wanting the best for his Trainees.

"First of all, please stop calling me Sir. It's week eleven. It's _Dan_, by now." He said with a smile.

"Well, this is awkward, but okay." She shrugged. Calling her Class Mentor by his shortened first name was not ideal. But, if he insisted, she would do so.

"Secondly, I wanted to talk about your Big-Little Week feedback." He said, now a lot more serious looking.

"Is something wrong with it?" Angie raised an eyebrow.

Egoistically, she had expected to have good feedback from Emily Prentiss.

"No, nothing is wrong. It's actually perfect…" He said slowly. "But that's the problem. Angela, you cannot let this influence your options."

"Oh, trust me, my options have not changed at all." She smirked. If he only knew…

But then again, he was the Class Mentor. Of course he knew.

"See? That's not really an option for you, Angela. That's your _wish_, a request that simply cannot be satisfied by the Bureau."

His words sent daggers to her heart.

She had known it all along, but nobody dared to say it to her face, so she had figured it was okay…she had more time to live in denial. And yet, the moment of truth was right there.

"And I know you will react badly to those news, when they come out, officially. I just wanted to give you a heads up and maybe some time to change your application forms and to hand them in again."

"I don't need time." She shook her head, clearly still in denial.

"If you go to the supermarket and you only need milk, but there isn't any milk left…would you buy water instead and just call it a day? Or would you still need that milk, once you got home?" She asked, seemingly in no reference to their current topic.

"No, don't be smart with me. Your little mind-games won't work." Dan eyed her up and down.

"Answer my question, Dan!" She challenged him.

"Fine. I will still need the damn milk. Happy? But it won't change the fact that there was no milk available for me to take."

"Not at _that_ supermarket, anyway…" She said smartly.

Dan had once overheard her say something to Bryan. He wasn't sure if it had been a smart ass comment or a real thing, but at this very moment, he realized she had been truthful.

"So, you are willing to go through twenty-one weeks of FBI Academy, just to throw it all away, if you don't get the spot you want?"

"Not the spot I _want_, Dan…" Angie crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"The spot I _deserve_!" She corrected him.

"Angela, it is not an option. It is not happening! I'm not saying you're not good enough or that they don't want you. Quite the contrary, actually. But it is just not realistic of you to continue working your ass off for something that you are never going to get."

"Never say never." Angie spoke, with her hands still in defensive mode, in front of her.

Then Dan realized something else.

"Wait, the supermarket metaphor…" He sighed. "You're thinking of joining other Secret Services if you don't get in your Unit of choice here, at the Bureau, aren't you?"

"Mhm." The Mini Prentiss in her replied, the same way Emily Prentiss would have.

"Good God, I don't want to imagine you as a spy." Dan really wanted to laugh. At the very least, nobody would ever doubt her cover, with that smile and the bow in the hair.

"Well, I can't change your mind. I can just tell you that I'd hate to lose my Wild Card. Not because that would mean I would have flopped as a Class Mentor, but because I've actually grown to like you."

"We've come a long way - from you, poisoning me; to you, being protective over me. Eh?" A smug smile creeped on her lips.

"That was just a test and you know it. None of us ever meant to harm you."

"Yeah, with that double doze, maybe. But all the times I was sick? Don't you think _that_ hurt? I could barely keep food down my stomach and I was being pushed extra hard to better my physical fitness performance in between throwing up in buckets, on the side of the training field."

"I'm sorry about that…" Dan felt weirdly guilty. This girl was a pain in the ass, but he felt connected to her, in a way, and he had never enjoyed seeing her hurt and suffering during trainings or just in general.

"Can I read my report now?" She asked curiously.

Dan was holding a folder in his hands while they spoke, so she figured it must contain the thing that Emily Prentiss wrote - her evaluation report.

"No." Dan replied, clutching onto the folder.

So, she was right – it _was_ Emily's report!

Dan could have easily let her read it, but it was the most unconventional report he had ever read, himself. And it would mess with Angela's head, especially after the talk he tried to have with her.

When Angie walked away, he opened the folder and saw one single paper. A white paper, with the BAU logo on it and Emily's signature at the bottom. The rest of it was blank. Nothing was typed or printed on it, as normal text.

Instead. From one side corner to the other, Emily had written her final evaluation, on hand, scribbled down with a loud and obnoxious red highlighter.

Six words. Three exclamation marks.

This was all that Angela deserved as feedback after all of her hard work, that entire week.

Dan laughed to himself, reading Emily's so-called 'evaluation report'.

_"ANGELA HUNTER BELONGS TO THE BAU !"_

* * *

By lunch time, Emily was already thinking to herself: waking up and spending the day with a terrible headache was so not worth the hassle of having to sit through the entire date the previous night - all twenty-four minutes of it. Emily had counted, for the lack of a more entertaining thing to do.

She was now in dire need of a yet another cup of coffee and maybe some Advil. The one positive thing about that day was what Ben had messaged her, earlier that morning. The rest was just a blur. Emily had flashes of herself, walking down the corridors and greeting other Agents around her, making insignificant small talk, then doing some paper work in her office, but that was it. And the day seemed to be long – way too long and way too painful to endure. She really needed a nap.

The only thing that kept her going was the thought of the second date. This was _so_ in the bag, even if she didn't remember all details of having agreed to that date last night. All she remembered was the annoying lights in the elevator and, disturbingly, this was pretty much what she had seen the second time she had died. Hopefully this would not be a complete disaster.

"JJ, can you give me a lift after work?" Emily asked at some point, after spending the entire afternoon in her office, drinking water and hoping for the best, with that Advil she took after lunch.

"Sure, but wait...how did you get here if you don't have your car?" JJ asked.

"Uber. I wasn't in the mood for driving. Nor in the right and legal conditions to do so. Don't ask..." Emily said shyly and JJ just knew what she meant. "Plus, he specifically told me not to take my own car tonight."

"He? Ohhh Emily, is your French boyfriend visiting!?" Heart shaped stars darted out of JJ's eyes.

Emily had been very secretive lately, so maybe things had moved forward with this man she had told JJ about just recently.

"Ugh, can people just stop thinking and talking about that man already!?"

To Emily's outburst, JJ just chuckled. It seemed like the only person to always be thinking and talking about him was Emily, herself. Surely, being the wonderful hungover friend, she'd be grumpy enough to blame her own thoughts and desires on someone else. It was so typical of Emily.

"What now!?" Emily continued being a grumpy delight.

"I literally said nothing. I'm just sitting here in my little corner and I'm smiling..."

"What on Earth are you smiling about!?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

How could JJ bring herself to tell the Boss that she had profiled this sudden and very secret desire of hers - to go on random dates? How could she tell Emily that she was only doing that, in her desperate attempts to make herself stop thinking about the French man - the one man she _really_ wanted.

"Where do you need to be?" JJ asked, confirming that she would be Emily's driver that evening.

She could simply not wait for the day that Emily would open up and tell her about those failed attempts at random dating. Because, as her best friend and as an amazing profiler, JJ already knew that _any_ date would be doomed, if it wasn't with the man that had made Emily Prentiss' heart melt.

* * *

"Good evening, neighbor." Emily's date said as soon as he saw her in front of the restaurant that evening.

After dropping her off, JJ had contemplated whether she should stay and spy for a little bit, but she decided against it. She was 'Team France', even if she had never seen the guy, nor did she even know anything about him. Her little shipper heart could not take the sight of her best friend, making nice with someone else.

Emily faked an interested smile, so this guy wouldn't be offended. After that she spent the next hour and five minutes trying to block out the insane embarrassment she felt for having fixed herself a date, drunk, after another date...in the elevator, in the middle of the night. God knows how dumb she must have looked and how easy and desperate he must think she was.

_"I didn't feel ashamed with Richard...it was basically the same thing, I mean, I met him buzzed...sure, it was side effects from Garcia's drugs, but still...I mean...yeah, I got buzzed by a glass of wine...and I didn't feel all this pressure when I met him. I was fine. Buzzed, but fine. I was fine...damn, he was fine. Like Hell yeah, he was fine...he was more than fine, in that damn suit and those piercing eyes. God, he was so fine...so damn fine..."_ Emily thought to herself quietly, while looking blankly at her dinner partner and giving off the impression that she was listening to whatever he was saying.

"Do you like that choice?" He asked after having suggested a dish for her to try out.

"...So. Damn. Fine. Hot daaamn..." Emily muttered quietly, still thinking about Richard.

This time, however, she said it out loud, by mistake.

"Uh, alright...it isn't really a hot dish, not in the sense of spicy hot, but uh...okay." Her date stuttered. Maybe this woman was weirdly connected to food?

Or maybe she was weirdly connected to another man, one that she was silently thinking about while pretending to be present during that date?

Slowly, he managed to get Emily to talk. She lied her ass off, as she always did, telling him she was a meteorologist, because she couldn't think of a dumber and less fun and attractive profession than that. She wanted him to think she was a nerd, someone who'd stay in her laboratory and just stare at a screen. She wanted him to think little of her. For whatever reason, she didn't want him to know _anything_ about her.

_"Why am I not feeling guilty? I always lie on dates and I never feel guilty. Then why do I feel like crap for lying to him...No, not to this guy in front of me, I mean…lying to Richard...ugh, damn it, stop thinking about him! I command myself to stop thinking about him!"_ She continued her silent conversation with her own self while on the outside she just smiled politely.

At some point she managed to partake in the actual conversation and to enjoy a few of the things they were discussing. They had a mutual nerdy interest that was fun to explore for about nine minutes before they ran out of topics again.

Emily suggested discussing music, but they didn't find much common ground there. He then spoke about what he considered 'extensive' travel experience and Emily tried not to laugh. In her days as a spy she had visited all those countries he had mentioned, in just one week. She was easily the most well-traveled person in the room, wherever she was. Not even Clara could beat her and she was working with the International Response Team!

The conversation took a better turn when they started laughing at some video that Garcia had sent Emily. Randomly, at the loss of anything smart to say, Emily had decided to show him the video of a twerking cat. It had worked, in the sense that it had made both of them laugh and they had searched for more utterly useless videos to enjoy.

Half an hour more passed and they were both laughing at some compilation of bloopers from some TV show that he had mentioned and she had lied to have seen. At least the bloopers were funny, so she rolled with it.

"It was nice hanging out with you..." He started off at some point.

It was painfully obvious to him that this woman was not interested in him, at all. And yet, he wasn't the type of rude guy who would make a scene. He really did have fun and the food was nice - it was a win in his books. Whoever this woman had been constantly thinking of during this 'date' was surely a lucky man. Sadly, it wasn't going to be _him_, but that didn't mean that he had to ruin this new acquaintance. Maybe they could be friends?

"Yeah. It was nice hanging out with...someone..." Emily said lamely.

She meant to say _'with someone who is not an idiot like the dude from last night, but I'm still not interested'_. She decided to stay quiet about that addition to her statement.

"We should get going. Come on, my car is right outside." He said while slipping some cash to cover the bill and grabbing his car keys with his free hand.

Emily sighed and walked out willingly. Was she emotionally incapable of connecting to another human being? Why was it so hard to even fake being interested in a date? What if she had really gone out with a woman, like she had joked about doing? Was _that_ the problem? Was she not attracted to _guys_? Or was she not attracted to _any_ guy, who was not _the_ guy?

And then, as soon as she mentally recalled every curve of Richard's body, she realized she was most certainly not attracted to 'guys'. She was attracted to _a_ guy, _the_ guy - _him_, Richard. There had been a connection, there had been the fun banter, the energy, the vibe, the feeling between them. There had been a bit of competition when they went to the gym, there had been the shared love for traveling, there had been a moment where Emily may or may not have threatened to take his life if he dared to grab the last snack from the bag of goodies during their trip to the Chateau. There had been everything..._he_ had been everything she had ever imagined a perfect connection with another human being would feel like.

She let this man, her neighbor, walk out first. To her surprise, at least he was gentleman enough to hold the door for her, unlike Thomas from the previous night. And yet, it was still not enough for her. He wasn't quite Richard, so she wasn't quite impressed.

"I'm sorry if my car looks a little rough. A certain wild one broke my window just recently and the guy who repaired it did a crappy job, so now it looks just...out of place." He said cheerfully, walking Emily to a red car, parked outside the restaurant.

As soon as she laid eyes on the car, she gasped. In her mind she had this vivid recollection of herself, smashing the window of a random red car in the parking lot in front of her building, just a few weeks ago. The make and model were the same...this could only mean one thing…

"You knew it was me all along!?" She turned around with a pout.

Of course he knew all along. He had been nearby when Emily had broken the window, in a moment of complete rage. At that moment, he had been way too scared for his life to even approach this woman and yell at her. Once again – Emily Prentiss and her Bad Ass Boss vibes had prevented yet another human connection to be established. This guy had already had his eyes on her for a while before he witnessed her outburst at the parking lot of their building. And yet, he had been way too intimidated by her, until he had taken his chances the previous night, catching her drunk and feeling like she was a bit less scary this way.

The truth about that event was that Emily had gone to the parking lot, already pissed off. She had noticed red paint on the side of her car, along with a nasty scratch. And then she had scanned for red cars and as soon as she had laid eyes on _his_ car, she had blamed it for that scratch. So, she had busted his window, as payback. However, what had had _actually_ happened beforehand was that one of their neighbors' kids had just received a new bicycle, one which he was still unable to ride very steadily, so he had crashed against Emily's car and scratched it unintentionally. He had also fallen and scratched his knee right after that and he had cried salty tears – not because of the knee, but because the beautiful red paint of his brand new bike had gotten ruined by that accident.

Emily knew none of this. All she remembered was smashing the window of a red car, without even trying to look for damage on that car, too, hence not knowing if it was the right red vehicle that had ruined the paint on her car.

"Yeah. And before this gets awkward I should mention that I don't care. It was funny to see you fire out and take it out on my poor window." He continued speaking cheerfully, but seconds later he could tell that Emily was distressed.

In her mind she kept asking herself how come men always lied to her? Ian Doyle had lied about everything...but then again - so had she. Then Mark - this guy she dated while in London; had ended up lying to her about his job. She had to find out one day that he had been asking and trying out for a position in Spain, for the majority of their relationship. Emily had no idea he was trying to move his entire life, to another country. Not to mention - he didn't seem to have any intention of telling her or bringing her along with him. That had made her feel useless. Used. Not good enough.

And then there was Richard. He had lied, but barely. It had been Emily who had begged him to not tell her everything. It had been Emily who had lied and acted as Lauren. It had been Emily who had every intention of ending the week and going back to Quantico on a Sunday…or did she? And all along, it had been Richard who had kept on telling her that he wanted to tell her the truth. How was she supposed to handle that? She wasn't used to people being honest with her. She barely ever let anyone in, let them get to know her and, God forbid, let them hold her like _he_ had - with those strong, manly hands, bringing her close to his body and making her feel safe, even if she was most certainly kick ass enough to be her own savior.

Richard - the only man in her life who had downright begged her to let him tell her who he was. And she had refused, terrified of what the truth might entail, what it might lead to. What if the truth would ruin her fairy tale? He had been honest about it and he had told her that his truth was rough and hard to swallow. God bless this man, he had been honest in the most amazing, genuine way.

"Hey, I didn't mean to offend you. It was supposed to be a little prank. I mean, the part with the car. The rest I actually wanted. I've wanted to ask you out for a while now." Her neighbor spoke up after a moment when Emily was quiet and in her own little world.

"It's fine. I can take a prank." She smiled at him, as she really did not give a damn about that.

"I can also take the truth..." She muttered to herself, addressing the whole 'Richard situation'.

Why had she been so terrified of his truth? Had she really been this dumb, to prevent the only guy who ever wanted to be honest with her, from speaking his truth?

"Uh, look, if there is someone else in your life, I don't want to...you know, interfere..." The neighbor said honestly.

Truth to be told, he was quite a nice guy. He had a stable and somewhat boring job, he had a steady income and a home, a car with a crooked window - thanks to Emily herself. He also smiled a lot and it was kind of nice to laugh with him, watching those dumb videos on Emily's phone.

But this was not what she wanted. She needed someone to fire her up, to compete with her, to complete her, to argue with her until she'd feel fumes coming out of her ears…and to then make love to her like he only had one night to show her how much he loved her.

She needed Richard. Period.

She wanted Richard.

She could not stop thinking about Richard.

No matter how hard she had tried recently, she could never fool herself into believing that she did not want him. It was just not happening.

"You know what? There just might be..." She replied to her neighbor with a smile.

The Hell with denial. He knew nothing about her, so who cares if she admitted her inner thoughts to him? He wouldn't judge her and even if he did, Emily Prentiss would react with one of her famous one liners - 'screw you'. She would not give a damn. He was not who she was obsessing over.

"For what it's worth, I find you to be a great woman. I might not even fix that window, as it would remind me of you." He added.

"What? It being all crooked, sideways and lookin' like a mess?" Emily felt confident enough to let her sarcasm show, but sadly, he did not get her joke.

Richard always got her jokes. He always laughed. He always joked back. He even understood those borderline geeky ones that made no sense no anyone else. But _he_ got them. He got _her_.

And now she wanted to get _him_. Richard! Not a random date. Not her neighbor. Not some hot dude she had been flirting with. No. She wanted one man and one man only.

She could also not help but notice his choice of an adjective. Great. Her neighbor found her to be a 'great' woman.

Richard, in turn, had always called her 'exceptional' and she had always felt like he was searching for an even more powerful word, to replace that one with. She had felt like no matter how much he said, he could never fully express how he truly felt for her, not with words anyway. And it wasn't because of some language barrier, as she could tell he was fluent in English. It was purely based on the fact that such a word, like the one he needed, did not exist. 'Exceptional' was the closest he could get to expressing his admiration for everything she was.

So, hearing how 'great' she was now, coming from someone who thought she was a nerdy meteorologist, was nothing short of an insult.

The neighbor drove them both back to their building and Emily seemed quite smiley in the car.

Two completely failed dates…this is all it took for her to finally have some clarity. She wasn't even halfway done with Martha's little assignment, but she found herself laughing as she walked back home that evening, ironizing the way her therapist had gotten her. And Martha got her real good – she had made Emily see things and come to her own conclusions. It was what Morgan had attempted to do, that night when she had cried in his arms, confiding in him all the intimate details about this Richard guy. JJ, at first, had tried to tell Emily what she thought of this situation, but Emily wanted to hear none of it, so JJ had decided to let her figure it out on her own terms, as well. Damn, those people knew her well, if they were able to play with her mind like that, to show her things that she was trying to deny for so long.

Rossi, on the other hand, had been playing a silent game for a while now. Emily was completely oblivious to it, but one day it would hit her. One day she would know just how much 'Papa Rossi' knew, from the beginning. She liked to think of herself as a devious mastermind, skilled in mind games, but really…Rossi had to be given way more credit, as he was truly the Master of it all. He wouldn't need words, he wouldn't even need to be looking at Emily, while communicating something important to her, while making her see and feel things that she was trying to block out. If Emily was an evil genius, then Rossi was the 'good genius' in their little BAU family tree. And he did his best work, just lurking in the shadows, observing, saying nothing at all…just watching.

She wasn't drunk, but in her state of slightly buzzed slumber, the night of that failed date - the second one out of five, Emily's mind would allow itself to take her places.

Somehow, she knew that this was not Failed Date Number Two, but rather – Failed Date Number Infinity, also, the very last one of this kind. She didn't need three more embarrassing events to be added to that list, so she would open her eyes to what she _really_ wanted in life.

Weirdly, as everything else in Emily Prentiss' life, in order to _open_ her eyes, she literally had to _close_ them now. Relaxing her head against the pillow, she inhaled that scent that she really liked – the scent of _him_, and before she knew it, she had dozed off.

Soon enough, a barely audible mixture of a gasp and a moan escaped her lips.

As always, memories of _him_ invaded her dreams, but with each day that came, those actual memories were being pushed away by new little things they did together, things that hadn't even happened yet.

At first Emily's dreams had been very accurate, depicting only the things that had happened – she dreamt of the first time they met by the fountain, of the boat ride along the river Seine, of the first time they kissed. And then she realized her dreams were becoming things she did not have any recollection of – they were attending a formal party together, they were out for drinks with the BAU team, Richard was gossiping with Angela in a corner of the Bullpen before JJ shot them a glance, letting them know that Emily was walking in their direction. They would then shut up and look at each other awkwardly, as if they had been discussing Emily, or something connected to her, something that she did not need to hear. A surprise, maybe? And when Emily would walk by and be on her merry way to her office, she would hear them chuckle in the background, like two kids, scheming about something and happy they hadn't been caught.

Emily shifted in her sleep, wondering when did those dreams go from pleasant memories, to nightmares over him, breaking her heart…to scenes that would never be real. How did Richard know everyone? How was he so friendly with JJ and so incredibly close to Angela, if in reality they had never even met? Why was her conscious showing her scenes with this man, interacting with her best friend and with the girl that Emily herself felt strangely connected to? Was her mind playing tricks on her? Or was it maybe fate that was trying to communicate something? Was this a clever way of getting through to Emily, of showing her that Richard fit in her world perfectly? What the Hell was this and why was she dreaming about him still?

"Mmmh…" This time her moan was a bit deeper, as she saw a scene from the last night they had spent together.

She hated that night and then again – she didn't regret it at all.

"Please?" She whispered a plea, remembering how incredibly teasing he had been with a certain little game they played before things got real.

Things were real? Were they? Slightly buzzed, sleeping and confused, Emily Prentiss had no idea what was currently going on anymore. Her dream sequences jumped around quickly and before she could focus on something, another thing was happening.

She could not help but whimper when the scene with Richard, naked, on top of her, got replaced by a scene of him wearing a smart suit and looking at her with nothing but pure love in his eyes. It was a nice scene, but there was way too much fabric covering all of his muscular perfection and quite frankly - she would rather see him naked once again.

Suddenly, the angles changed and she was still there, in front of him in that suit, but she was no longer looking at _him_. If this were a movie, the camera had just turned around, showing Emily instead.

"Oh my God!" She gasped in her sleep, as soon as she laid eyes on what she looked like.

A bouquet of fresh flowers in her hands, a rhinestone tiara in her hair, freshly manicured nails, that burgundy non-transfer and non-stick lipstick that Richard liked so much, a pair of earrings that looked like diamonds and she looked down at her left hand, realizing Richard was slowly picking it in his hand and raising it upwards, still looking at her like she was his entire world and like nothing else existed.

Another realization hit her when she saw white tulle, all around her. Looking more intently at herself, she saw a beautiful white gown on her body, with a décolleté that Richard would surely have been a huge fan of, but it might have possibly made Rossi blush and cringe a little bit.

A tug on her hand made her look down and she realized why her right hand was feeling so warm, even a bit sweaty. In it there was a small hand, clutching onto Emily for dear life. The other hand of what was a beautiful toddler was holding Richard's free hand, linking the three of them together as they stood still, like time had stopped completely.

It was a girl – Emily had always known that if one day she'd have a child, it would definitely be a girl. Her hair had been curled and she had cute little white pins in her hair, to secure that tiara that she had insisted on wearing, matching her mommy's one. As the little one looked up, she smiled at Emily, showing off those cute dimples. Her entire face scrunched up a bit – this was how wide her smile was, this was how much happiness she felt.

Her skin complexion was just perfect – she was a mix of her mother's olive skin and her father's more tan one. But, no matter how beautiful this little nugget was on the outside, the true beauty Emily found in her was purely based on the fact that she was there, she was real, she was _hers_ and she was happy and most importantly – healthy.

For a moment Emily tried to rationalize this situation, in her sleep. Was this girl a vision of Angela, as a child? She surely looked like her, with the hair length and color and that wide smile, but the eyes were different.

"Angela?" Emily murmured in her sleep, looking at the child, waiting for some sort of a confirmation.

"Oui, Mama?" Angie's voice replied instantly.

What startled Emily was that the child did not even part her lips, when she heard that reply. And the voice that replied was surely not a child's one.

Emily then turned around, only to see who had replied. It was Angela, but she was not the toddler. She was standing right next to Emily, Richard and the child, with a smile that matched her little sister's.

Sister? Emily shifted in her sleep, coming to that realization. When did this happen? What was going on and why was this dream so vivid, yet so far from the reality?

"Always here for me…" Emily, the bride, muttered to herself, as her eyes got locked with Angie's. And God, that 23 year old girl looked damn good in her bridesmaid dress and that same matching tiara in her hair.

"Always and Forever!" Angie whispered back to her before urging her to pay attention to the ceremony, which had reached the moment where the young one was impatiently tapping her foot against the floor, waiting for Richard to pay her attention and to finally get those two rings from the small cushion that she was now magically holding in her hands.

With the intake of a sharp breath, Emily woke up. Her hand instantly flew to her heart, only to confirm what she already knew – it was beating faster than it ever had before.

And then she smiled. Right after that she gave herself a well-deserved slap on the cheek. What was she even thinking? Why was she allowing her mind to show her these things, even if they were just dreams? Were they dreams or nightmares? She could argue insanity or she could make peace with the fact that a human cannot control their conscious and that the mind would show her whatever it wanted, while she was asleep.

Why on Earth would she be smiling? Why did she feel this tingling feeling in her stomach, each time she thought about this man? Was she an idiot? What woman in their right mind would ever be so obsessed with a man who had broken her heart in such a savage way? Years ago Emily had made a promise to herself to never let a man make her feel bad. Yet, Richard had done just that and she had cried salty tears for him.

And then again, she found herself going to bed and waking up with the thought of _him_.

Every. Single. Day.

* * *

Hours.

Days.

Weeks.

It had now been over a month since Richard had been forced to walk out of Lauren's life. He had tried really hard to think of a time in his past, when he had to do something more difficult and more painful than writing that note, for the woman sleeping naked, in the bed next to him. And he could simply not think of a single event that had been more traumatic to him, than what he had to do that night…the night that he still had vivid dreams about. Walking out on Lauren, just as soon as he had finally walked into her life…this was pure insanity.

Each night he knew that he would see one of two things in his dreams – it was either a dream about Bella or a dream about Lauren. Nothing else, for days, weeks, months even.

In his dreams about Bella he recalled the things that he had done with her. In a way, he got to re-live those precious moments with her, he got to see her smile, to hear her funny giggles one more time. The dreams of her were light, but the pain was still there, as he knew this little girl was no longer _his_ little girl…and she wasn't even a little girl anymore.

He usually started off with dreams about her, which slowly progressed to dreams about Lauren, but not the way she had met her just recently. It was all weird and he could not explain it to himself. The scenes made little sense. Lauren was the same, but she felt so different.

That night was no exception. As he got back home from work, he took a nice long shower and he jumped in bed, holding a piece of fabric close to his chest before he dozed off.

"Can I come to work with you today, after school?" He heard Bella's young voice ask him, as his first dream sequence started.

"Bella, you have your extracurricular activity today. It's Monday." He remembered trying to tell her.

"Yeah, but those are dumb. The teacher gave me a list to choose from and it's all stupid stuff like sports and arts. I don't want to waste my time. I already hate going to school and that's, sadly, quite obligatory for someone my age. Please don't make me waste my youth by signing up for something that would make me feel even more miserable, right after school!" She had begged him, with those cute puppy eyes of hers.

"Are you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Miserable. Are you miserable?" He then elaborated.

"That came out wrong. I mean, yes, I am very miserable at school, but I am the happiest when I'm with you. I didn't mean to be disrespectful towards everything you've ever done for me. I'm sorry if it came out this way." Little Bella had reassured him.

"I've been thinking about your school situation. We're leaving for Brussels in a week and then we're spending the next month in Malta before we go to Spain. You're clearly finishing school online, unless you'd want me to enroll you in local schools there. I've already made a list of all the international schools in the cities we'll stay at. Tell me what you want."

"Of course you made a list." Bella sighed dramatically. "I don't know what I want. I don't want to be around kids, but I do realize that's the best way for me to learn Flemish and Maltese and I can sadly not do that if I study online. Also, I'm sure I could pull the _'Sorry, no understand, I foreign girl, no speak your language'_ card with all my teachers, so they go easy on me, especially in math class. Not that I have any problems with my academic performance. You see, it's just the kids that I don't like. And the teachers who treat me like a kid, too. So, basically – I despise school. Then again, I really want to learn all the new languages I possibly can. So I don't know what I want. Although, I surely don't need social interaction in Spain, as I'm already fluent in Spanish, so I'd rather do my school work from home, at least in Spain. And oh, also – for an extracurricular I want to go to work with you, as I believe this is the best way for me to learn things that I will actually use in life…but judging by the look on your face right about now I'd say I'm still unable to fully convince you to let me do that…" She trailed off after the huge speech.

"You are not even nine yet. Of course people will treat you like a child. And no, you're way too far from being able to convince me to let you anywhere near my job. Try again in about ten years. Or twenty. Or never." He smirked, both in his sleep and in his dream sequence.

"But…_you_ don't treat me like a child." She pointed out, not seeing any good reason why other people felt the need to treat her like that.

"No, _I_ do not. And you know exactly why. And you also know that nobody else in the world could _ever_ know why. Right?"

"I know." She pouted.

"Shouldn't you be at Aubrey's house right now, for the project you both got assigned to do together?" He asked, remembering which day it was.

"Yes, but I'm not going. I don't care about the project. I did my part and it turned out great. She can do hers." Bella folded her arms and looked away.

"Uh-oh. What's the tea? What did Aubrey do? I thought you liked her. Plus, it's a group project, the whole point is to do it with someone else. I bet the teacher knows you are a smart kid and that you can do your part well, but she probably needs to see how well you can work within a group, or in this case – with a partner."

"Well, she will be disappointed, because I don't work _for_ no one and I don't work _with_ no one." Bella stated like the true Diva that she was.

Richard noticed how she was avoiding his other question.

"And what if Aubrey needs help with her part of the project?"

"Then she can ask her perfect mommy and her perfect daddy for help." Bella stated, spitting venom as she spoke, before storming off the room, leaving Richard deep in thought.

For the longest time, Richard had known that Bella wanted one thing – a family. She barely ever made friends at school and it was never those kids who came from a seemingly stable family. Bella was not the jealous type, but he knew why she avoided those kids – they constantly reminded her of what she did not have. She never spoke to Richard about it and she made sure she'd always let him know how much she appreciated everything he was doing for her, but he knew she was overcompensating. He knew she was happy with him, but she wasn't _fully_ as happy as a nine year old girl should be.

"Let's make a deal. If you call Aubrey and re-schedule your project for later today, I'll drive you there and when I pick you up later we're going to the Dior Kids boutique on rue Royale and you can get any dress you want…" He started off with his bribe.

"No shoes?" She asked grumpily.

"Fine, you can get whatever you want. And you can also come to my workplace tomorrow after school and I'll show you something cool." He added, making it seem like the best deal ever.

He was desperate for her to go out and interact with other kids and he would do whatever it takes, in order to bribe her.

"Can I go see the Red room?" She asked, with stars in her eyes.

All she seemed to care about was his job. She never asked about anything else and yes, she liked buying cute new things, but she didn't care about anything materialistic. She just wanted Richard to let her go to work with him, so she could snoop around and meet more of his awesome colleagues. And maybe…just maybe, one day she would be allowed to see the Red Room.

"Well, no. But you can ask me again about it in ten years. Or twenty. Or never." He once again replied with his usual words when something was not suitable for a child.

"You bet I will. And alright, we have a deal. But just so we're clear - you don't need to buy me expensive things. I have everything I need." She shrugged casually.

"But you really _do_ need new official shoes for that Gala at the US Embassy next week, before we leave Paris." He pointed out and with _that_ statement she could not argue.

"I meant that I have _you_, you silly bum-bum." Bella said, blushing a little bit.

She was not an affectionate child. She would keep everyone at a safe distance from her and she wouldn't even talk to those whom she considered untrustworthy. Richard was most definitely not used to seeing or hearing her express affection, not even to him, so this came out of nowhere. And it was _so_ cute.

"Oh…" He whispered, both in his sleep and in the dream sequence.

Bella's next reaction had been to give him a tight hug. She really did appreciate him, even if deep down inside she needed something more out of life. Her little fantasy was not complete, if there wasn't one more person in their household. And Richard was in no rush to find such a person, so soon after having lost his wife.

As he held her in his arms, he inhaled her scent. She smelled like a very light and pleasant girly perfume and like that horrible pink bubble gum that she had been obsessed with for some time now.

Looking down at her tiny frame, with her small hands wrapped around him and her head only reaching the level of his abs, he smiled. Yes, she was a child. And no, she really was not. Not anymore, at least…

"Hey Bella?" He remembered calling out for her and waiting for her head to tilt upwards, so her amazingly beautiful eyes could get locked with his, before he would continue speaking.

"Thank you for letting me in, for allowing me to be there for you and to take care of you." He remembered those words perfectly. This had been a turning point in his relationship with little Bella, as she had let him hold her, she had showed affection for the first time.

"Thank you for wanting me, despite knowing the truth about me…" Bella had then struck him with those words and to this day he had no idea if she really meant what he suspected she might have.

As this dream sequence finished, Richard turned to the side and clutched onto that piece of fabric that he always kept under his pillow.

_"Ce n'est pas mon nom, appelle moi Lauren…"_ His dreams had taken him back to the moment when he had seen Lauren, by the fountain. The moment she had met him.

He relaxed his head against the pillow, figuring out this would be a dream with cute scenes from their first moments together.

Wrong.

So wrong…

Right after hearing her voice, the scenes started to jump around and to change quickly.

Suddenly, he was seeing flashes of the last night they spent together and before he could suck in a breath, because what he saw her do to him was too much for him to handle, the scene had changed.

Lauren and him were now having a picnic in the beautiful gardens of a Chateau, just outside Paris – a place that he had taken Bella to, many times before. He saw her smile as she looked inside the improvised picnic basket he had put together for her, in the last moment before they had left for yet another field trip.

The next scene was of them, by a body of water. It didn't seem like it was the sea, but rather a river. There were lights and music, people everywhere. Groups of young people were dancing by the water and he was sitting on a bench, with his jacket covering both of them, holding Lauren in his arms and kissing her, whenever he felt like doing so. It felt normal, like it had been a thing he had done for a while. Looking at them from a far, in his dream sequence, he saw how happy they both looked. Her chin rested on his shoulder and she was telling him something about herself, but he couldn't make out the words. It was too loud. He _needed_ to hear her words, but there was noise all around them. He was pretty sure he saw himself speak to her, but he had called her another name. He didn't say 'Lauren'. It was some other name that just rolled off his tongue, like he had been saying it all along. The Hell with the noise, he really needed to hear what she was saying back.

He then held her hand and they started walking.

"Excuse moi!" A young child's voice startled him and he looked down, only to figure out a little girl had run right into Lauren, on her way to catch up with the other kids.

He then watched Lauren kneel down and level out with this little girl.

For a second there, he allowed himself to look for similarities between the girl and the two of them – himself and Lauren. It was a dream of something that had never really happened, so his conscious might have been giving him signals for something…maybe a certain something he had always wanted to have.

And yet, her face, her nose, her lips, her hair, her eyes…none of them resembled either Lauren or him.

As he paid more attention to the scene, he found out how easily Lauren had connected to this little girl. Seconds later, he saw Lauren walk this girl to her mommy and daddy who were now looking for her, as she had run off with the kids and never came back to them.

He also noticed how hesitant Lauren was when she had to let go of this little girl's hand. It almost felt like she wanted to keep her, like she was unable to let go. And, in a moment of complete insanity, he allowed himself to wish that they would never have had to let go of this girl.

She could have been theirs. It could have been perfect. They could have been happy.

But she was someone else's child…

Why couldn't she have been _theirs_?

Why couldn't he have the perfect life, even if just in a damned dream sequence?

He shifted uncomfortably, feeling upset and hoping the scene would change.

Seconds later, the background faded and his mind focused on the façade of a building. He was driving a car towards it and after he parked, a private elevator took him right to the middle of his living room, on the sixth floor.

Walking in, he was welcomed by the perfect vision of his most sacred desire.

"Heeeeyyyyy, you're back. You're back. Yay, you're back early. Oh my God, you're back early! Yes, yes, yes, you're back!" Bella's voice and theatric ways welcomed him home.

He laughed, looking upwards and silently thanking God for blessing him with his little girl – so full of life, so expressive, so grateful to have him in her life, as well.

He saw her run towards him, but when she hugged him, he realized something – she was no longer twelve years old. Her nose no longer only reached the level of his abs. She was now almost as tall as him, standing tall next to someone of his ranking, with her chin up and her head held high. God bless her, she had always been his favorite little drama performer.

They were now equals. She was grown up, but it didn't matter her height, her wisdom, her way of filling the room with authority, wherever she walked in…she was still his little girl. She always will be.

"Oh God, no! You're back early!" Another female voice came in his direction.

He didn't need to look, to know who had spoken. There was only one female on the entire Planet who could smuggle so much sarcasm and irony into one short sentence.

As he turned around, he saw a very distraught Lauren, with a very dirty apron hanging around her waist, looking at him in a very panicked way, waving a pan in the air.

"No, no, no. I can still fix this. Rossi said…" Lauren paced left and right as she recalled a certain frantic phone call she had just placed to someone named Rossi, asking him for cooking advice. Again.

"What was it…" Lauren stopped for a moment before quoting Rossi in her best Italian accent. _"If you no drink the wine, you no cook with the wine."_

"Hey?" Richard tried to catch her attention.

"I wanted to surprise you…" Lauren said, biting her bottom lip in that sexy way that he had not yet learned how to resist.

"Well, I am surprised…" He suppressed a chuckle, eyeing her up and down, as she looked like a complete mess. He wouldn't even want to go check out what their kitchen looked like.

"Hey, ma chérie…come here." He pulled her close and kissed her cheek, weirdly being able to taste flour on it. What on Earth had exploded in that kitchen?

"I'll eat whatever it is that you're preparing. Also, and most importantly - happy anniversary." He said, handing her a small jewelry box.

While Lauren was busy opening it, someone else came into Richard's dream.

"Daddy! Mon beau papa!" A five year old exact replica of Lauren ran right into his arms, giving him soggy kisses on the face and neck.

"Daddy, welcome back home. Tu m'as manqué! I have a present for you!" She added, saying how she had missed him and handing him a framed drawing.

Because yes, he knew that if one day someone would call him 'daddy', it would be a girl. And it would be Lauren's child. There was no question about it. It was a fact. Sleeping or not, Richard wanted Lauren's child, or even better – children; to call him 'daddy' and that was it.

And yes, their child would most definitely be bilingual, too.

"Oh, wow…" He gasped, realizing what the drawing really represented.

He sat down at the couch, placing the little one on his lap, with Bella curiously looking over their shoulders. She was a sucker for all the details of everything possible. She just had to know it all. Lauren did the same, as they quietly watched daddy and daughter converse.

"This is mommy…" The child pointed at a very unsuccessful attempt of drawing a woman in a white dress. At least she got the dark hair right, even if it looked like there was a mop on Lauren's head.

"She is wearing white, because you are wedding her." She stated happily.

"_Marrying_ her. Daddy was getting married to mommy in this drawing." He corrected her, because he'd be damned if he let his child go on using the wrong term.

"Okay, daddy." She agreed instantly, in that cute, high-pitched childish voice of hers, before pointing at a very tall and round shape, right next to Lauren's white skinny frame with a dark mop on her head.

"This is you, daddy."

"Baby, je t'aime, but are you trying to tell me I'm getting fat?" He laughed genuinely, comparing his round figure in the drawing, to Lauren's two horizontal lines that represented her small figure.

"No, daddy. Not a chance. With mommy's cooking…pff…" The little girl rolled her eyes – a perfect one and a half eye roll, before she flipped her hair in the most Diva-like manner. God, she reminded him of Bella when she had been little.

"Ouch!" Lauren hissed from behind the couch.

She had learned to do a few dishes very well, but whenever she improvised with something new, she was a complete disaster. This always resulted in a phone call, placing a large pizza order. And in the cases when Richard and her were on their own at the house, they would partake in a game of _'let's make another lil' one of those Divas'_ while waiting for the pizza to arrive.

"I guess we are all lucky that mommy married a French guy who knows how to cook." Richard smirked at his own statement.

"Oh, praise the Lord!" Bella commented in her own Diva way, earning herself a slap on the shoulder, from Lauren herself.

Richard noticed how well Bella and Lauren interacted. Their relationship was so pure, it didn't seem forced and it was obvious how close they were. Like a real family.

"C'est ma sœur, this is my sister." The child continued rambling about her drawing, as the grown up irony was lost on her and she was getting bored.

What entertained her was to say something in one language and then to repeat the same statement, in the other language, too. Bella had also been teaching her Spanish since she had been born, so she was borderline trilingual now and yet, she was curious to learn more. And she loved to learn new words in different languages, but the best way to learn them was with her sister. If it was up to her, she would glue herself to Bella's side and she would never let go.

She had put in a lot of effort, drawing Bella. To her, her elder sister was her world. She would always stay by her side and do whatever she did. Bella, in turn, found out that she loved being someone's role model and she took her 'big sister' role very seriously, spoiling that kid rotten and bending over backwards, trying to fulfill all of her wishes. There wasn't anything in the world – legal or not, that Bella would not do for her little Princess.

"Should I guess who _that_ is?" Richard pointed at a smaller figure, standing between himself and Lauren, as they were all at the Altar.

"C'est moi! That's _me_, daddy!" The child stated proudly.

"But, sweetheart, you weren't even born when daddy and mommy got married. In fact, you weren't even conceived yet…" He countered.

"Arguably…" Lauren smirked, remembering how weird and complicated the timeline of their relationship had been at the beginning.

It was weird – Richard was dreaming of this made up scene, but in his dream he was able to figure out what everyone was thinking and feeling, as the scene unraveled. He was grateful for it. It was nice. It felt like watching a movie with a narrator behind the scenes, but it was also like reading a book, where the author would set the scene and let him imagine it all, giving all the different points of views, of all the characters involved. Those were Richard's favorite kind of dreams.

"Why do I get a present?" He asked the child.

"Because I wanted to thank you for wedding mommy and making us a family." The child replied, before she quickly corrected herself. "Marrying. I thank you for _marrying_ mommy."

"Wow, is _that_ how I used to sound, with all of my damn emotional speeches?" Bella asked rhetorically, thinking of a time in her past when she used to play this mind game with a certain someone, making them guess the hidden meaning of her each and every word and driving them completely insane in the process.

Richard then heard Lauren call Bella with another name, but sadly he was unable to hear the name well. It was not 'Bella'. And then Bella did not call Lauren with that name, either. This was the part of his dream that made no sense. It confused him and he tried to focus back to what he could figure out on his own.

"What are those black things on our thighs?" He pointed at the drawing once again.

"That's our guns, daddy."

"Well, I get it why mommy, daddy and your sister have them, but _you_…why?" He was once again confused.

"Because we are a tough family and nobody messes with us. And I am small, but I can defend myself. Bella taught me how to kick and punch and she said that if this doesn't work, I should bite anything I see. And then she told me exactly where to kick boys and she told me to scream at the top of my lungs if I thought I was in danger. And also – to run, in case any of the above fails to help me. Also, she said when I am 23 I can join the Academy, but she also said I can start training way earlier."

"Bella!" Richard gasped, giving his elder daughter a disapproving look.

"Hey, don't judge me! _You_ brought me up that way. I was just a little older than this nugget when you taught me all these things and more, so shut up and accept that this is Karma." Bella smirked and she was just as stubborn as he remembered her.

Richard shifted in his sleep, trying to fit a few puzzle pieces together. What he was seeing was the picture perfect family, but was that little girl just a memory of Bella, when she was young? Or was she an actual person, herself? Was she really the product of Richard and Lauren? Were there _two_ girls that he would get to proudly call his 'daughters', or was it always just Bella, multiplied, because dreams did not have to make all the sense in the world? And why were they calling each other different names, but _his_ name never changed in any of those interactions?

"Now, I just want to make this clear – we are taking my sister to Disney Land for the weekend. We are leaving right after lunch now and we won't be back until Monday evening, around eight o'clock. So, you know where I'm going with this…" Bella stated, extending her hand to hold her sister's as she eyed Lauren and Richard with the most knowing look in her eyes.

"You are welcome." She added. "Oh and it better be a girl again."

"Oh, no! You two are enough." Lauren murmured ironically.

"Do I get a say in this?" Richard smirked, wanting to make a funny comment, but the look Lauren gave him showed how little say he had in _anything_, really.

"Fine, I'm already outnumbered by all of you, Boss Ladies anyway, so…" He added with a shrug, faking a pout.

He'd let them think they had won. He'd do _anything_, to see his wife and daughters smile victoriously, to show them that they were powerful females who did not need to bow down to what a man had to say. He'd raise his daughters to be fierce, with a mind of their own and just as powerful as they mother's.

The girls then went to Bella's room where she surely would be giving her little sister a make-over before lunch would be ready.

"We?" Richard asked, in reference to what Bella had said – that 'they' were taking the kid to Disney Land.

Both in his dream and as he dreamt of it, the idea of Bella taking a trip with someone else…and he sensed that it was a guy; was way too huge for him to grasp and deal with.

"My love, please don't go back to the overbearing, overly protective father figure." Lauren teased him.

"When have I ever-…"

Before he could continue his useless question, Lauren showered him with a few of all the possible answers.

"When you learned they were dating. When you put this poor guy through all sorts of tests, both physically and emotionally draining. When you commanded him not to get Bella pregnant and you then told him exactly what you would do to him – in great details, if he ever failed that promise. When Bella had to sneak out in the middle of the night and text me beforehand, so I can keep you…well, entertained, in our room, so she could go hang out with him. When you held a gun against his forehead and told him a few 'fatherly' things, as you then called them in your defense, which did not work, by the way, as him and I had a really good laugh about it with a glass of wine, afterwards. When you told him that if he ever hurt our Bella, he wouldn't want to know what was coming for him and that he would be begging for a quick and painless death. When you freaked out the day you learned who Bella had fallen for-…"

He decided to silence his wife with a quick kiss, as these facts were killing him, mostly because they were all so true. He may have gone a little overboard, but this was his little girl and he would be damned if he didn't make sure she was extra protected. He had been protecting her most of her life and he knew he would keep doing so until the last breath he'd take. And then he would do it all over again, for his other little girl.

"So, a long weekend without the kids at home. And they _do_ want a sister…" Richard moved closer to Lauren, letting his hand caress her cheek as he tried to change the subject.

"Don't even think about it! Are you insane? I'm not exactly twenty-five anymore. May I remind you I already had a risky pregnancy five years ago. It's a miracle that I even conceived at forty-five."

"My love, she turned out just fine." Richard smiled, looking at the drawing once again, thinking of his second little girl.

"Yes and thank God for that. I spent nine months wondering if she would be healthy and if she would even make it…" Lauren bit her bottom lip, thinking of something from her past.

It had been more than a miracle. Life was unpredictable. At fifteen, life had other plans for her, so her pregnancy hadn't gone the way she had planned, even if technically she never really planned on it at all. At forty-five – an age at which most people have already given up trying, Lauren had managed to be given a second chance at getting what she had always wanted – to give birth to a happy, healthy little girl. For her, Bella was enough. But deep down inside, it was important that she'd give birth. It made her feel complete. It made her feel like she had finally done it, the right way, with the right person. It was a do-over for that one darkest moment of her life when she had been too young, too afraid and way too alone to even know what to do with herself.

He knew that she hated thinking about the pregnancy. It had terrified her. She had been in pain, both physical and emotional. But in the end, it had all been worth it. They were now a family – a complete family, a _real_ family.

"You know that I would have been okay even if we only had Bella, right?" He whispered.

"I know. But I also know we both wanted this…we _needed_ this. And I know that in our eyes, Bella and her are equals. They will always be." Lauren replied before giving him that long awaited passionate kiss that he had been craving for.

"Happy anniversary, my love." She whispered against his lips and then he felt her putting something in his hands.

A present? With a huge smile, Richard looked down, curious to find out what it was. Lauren seemed quite eager to finally give it to him, so this must have been something great.

Suddenly, the dream sequence ended.

"No…damn it!" Richard mumbled in his sleep.

This was so not fair. If this was the closest he would ever get to having the family he wanted – just dreams of it; then he wanted to see more of them. He wanted to know who Bella's boyfriend was and if his younger daughter grew up to join the Academy, like she had stated she'd want to do. He wanted to know if Lauren and him ever had another baby, even if it would be risky and crazy for them to do it all over again, at their age. Maybe they adopted another child? He was desperate to know if Bella and the little girl were the same person or not. He had so many questions, but sadly, all he saw was darkness, as he continued sleeping.

It got annoying, to the point where he shifted in bed, trying to adjust his pillow and the covers, but nothing seemed to be working. The nice dream was done and a new scene did not start.

Now grumpy and annoyed, he woke up, in the middle of the night. With one hand he grabbed the small calendar that he kept on the night stand and he went two months back, checking out a date that he had circled in red. It had been the day he had spoken to Lauren, by the fountain. I had been the day he had started his attempts of getting close to her. It had been seven days before the day – circled in black on the same calendar; that he had been forced to break her heart, without being able to give her any explanation. And then, it had been nearly two months since, during which time he had constantly thought and dreamt about her, wishing that one day his phone would ring and it would be one more day, circled in red on his calendar. One more beginning. A clean slate for them. Again. And he knew that this time, if he got to circle one more day in red, he would never allow any force in the world to then make him circle a day in black again. No more endings. No more pain. No more disappointing her. It would be a beginning…and it would be a good life. With her. And if it would be in God's will – maybe with a precious little Princess, to keep Bella company, too.

* * *

The very next morning after Emily's own dream of what the future might have been, even if it was a Saturday, was a work day for the BAU. They were supposed to meet up at nine and discuss new budget-related strategies. And then they were all going to have a nice, relaxing Saturday lunch outside, maybe some little restaurant under the sun, as the day was beautiful and they could all use some fresh air.

At least that was the plan until they all showed up for work that morning. All, but one…

"Prentiss did _what_?" Rossi raised an eyebrow.

JJ repeated her previous statement.

He was still not convinced.

"Read it yourself." JJ handed him a piece of paper.

"Wow…" Rossi sighed. This was unexpected.

"It's only a few days…" JJ calmed him down. "And this time we know she's coming back."

"Yeah, but why now?" Rossi asked out loud.

"Why now _what_?" It wouldn't be Reid if he didn't butt in a conversation.

"Prentiss just filed to use a few days off her annual vacation leave." Rossi said, tossing the paper over to Reid, as proof.

"Oh, okay. Good." Reid seemed unmoved by this.

"Good? It's Emily Prentiss. She basically _lives_ in her office. She never takes days off." Rossi was still a bit obsessed with finding out the true reason behind Emily's sudden need for a vacation.

"Maybe she just wants to go wild this weekend. Hey? Can't blame her for wanting to let loose." Luke smirked, walking by his colleagues and also butting into their conversation.

"Oh…" JJ suddenly realized something.

"That's my girl!" JJ smirked, muttering that addition to herself and feeling oddly proud of Emily for finally having the courage to do something good for herself.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"zhangxinna"** Girl, get your pop-corn and your Kleenex ready for the next chapter, because we all know October 12th is Emily's birthday and she deserves a lil' somethin' sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet :P :P :P !

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Hey :)! Angie using Emily's official paper is a HUGE deal, when it comes to "breaking up" with 'Monkey' and letting them know that 'Emily Prentiss' is now taking over. I'm happy this chapter was so well received! I had fun writing it, even if I most definitely did push a bit about Emily's "naughty" past and the things Clara was saying about it, lol. I guess I might need to change some chapter's ratings, because of innuendos and little comments like those, lol. I found out I quite enjoy writing those and that is exactly how I see Emily Prentiss behaving, outside of work. Hope you also enjoyed _this_ chapter (109), and I don't think you're ready for the next one :)!

**"sweetkid45"** Hi :)! Emily and JJ are always going to be work wives hehe. I adore their close friendship. Same with Emily/Clara. As for who Emily ends up with...it would surely be an amazing man who will treat her right, but who won't mind getting a lil' rough, only when she asks for it. LOL.

**"rmpcmfan"** Hello :)! Yes, indeed, chapter 108 had a LOT of important lil' mentions. I figured out that I love Emily being a lil' naughty, so that may result into a rating change of some future chapters, lol. **NO EXPLICIT STUFF **will be mentioned directly, but still jokes and innuendos and mentions of her favorite pastime with whoever she will end up dating next, hehe! (Also, because of mentions of case-related details, guns, blood, etc.)

Yeah, Martha definitely handled the situation very well. Emily HATES being told how she feels, so she would **not** have listened. JJ knows it, Morgan knew it when she cried in his hands that night and he refused to tell her that he was absolutely sure that this 'Richard' man was crazy about her and that this was _not_ a goodbye letter, but a _love_ letter instead; now Martha also figured it out and gave Emily the option to figure it out on her own...while humiliating herself as a drunk cuckoo in the process, lol!

If Emily was ever to be with anyone, that person would find out where her priorities lay. And the readers will find out what her future plans are: FBI? A new job? A new city/country? A new beginning? Would THAT make Emily Prentiss happy? Or is it something else that she wants? We shall see...

Now let's dive into those theories of yours that I cannot confirm nor deny (so to avoid big spoilers) :P Hehe. However, I love your thinking and your deduction! I can see how it might all fit together and make sense.

The initials are a huge clue and the key to deciphering their meaning is in the show. There was a scene in earlier episodes that ties to it, but you'd have to be a complete show buff to remember that, lol! I'll later explain it all, in the story :)!

I can confirm that someone gave up a 'role', indeed. As in - someone is no longer the person they used to be, if they were ever _really_ that person. (Promise this statement will make all the sense in the world when you learn more about the truth).

I'm sure this current chapter (109) shed some light about Richard's little girl, named 'Bella'. Now sit back and relax, because next Monday is October 12 - Emily Prentiss' birthdaaayyyyy! And that only means I gotta give her a nice present, after torturing her for months, lol! Right? :)


	110. I'm All In, Emily

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Hello, everyone!

It's October 12 - it's Emily Prentiss' BIRTHDAY !

So, **Happy Birthday Emily Prentiss**...enjoy my gift for you, girl :P

Also, thanks everyone who reads my story and a special thanks to those of you who review/msg me. The fact that this started off with just an idea in my head and I started writing things down on a whim...and almost a year later it blew into this two-way conversation with a whole bunch of you...it's just mind-blowing! I appreciate each word of yours and I think it is so cool and so kind of you to take time of your day and to review/msg me your thoughts, deductions, feelings. I really cannot stress enough, _how cool that feels_!

PS: I tried to go a bit poetic with metaphors and some word repetition in this chapter. I'm super excited to share this chapter with you, guys :)!

* * *

**CHAPTER 110**

**I'M ALL IN, EMILY**

"Okay…I guess I'm really doing this then…" Emily said to herself, as a reminder…as a pep talk, as a way to not chicken out and undo what she had just done so far.

Her shoes became dusty, the second she stepped foot in there - in that special place, but she didn't mind. The Hell with the shoes…

It was a bit windy and she could almost feel the dusty particles now sticking to her lipstick, as the wind blew them around frantically. But she didn't mind. The Hell with the lipstick…

Her feet knew the right path to take, across the park and to a certain place she considered special, in her heart. With one very dark coffee in one hand, and her transparent, bare heart in the other, she walked in a quick pace, quite sure of herself. Until she saw it…

Her knees went weak for a second and her pace slowed down just a little bit. It scared her, more than she was willing to admit. But it also intrigued her. She wanted it. She had put her life on hold, once again, so she could do this. The Hell with being scared…

Slowly, but surely, she walked over to it – an architectural masterpiece; pulling one of those park chairs closer, so that she could have a good view. She sat right next to that masterpiece, on the left side, where she was sure it's beating heart was allocated. Yes, it was an inanimate object, but to Emily Prentiss, that place had a heart. It had a soul. It had robbed half her heart and half her soul, after all. It had been the beginning of two very beautiful things in her life. She had then lost both things, but she wasn't scared. She didn't mind. The Hell with being scared…

She now had her head held high, determined to fight until her last breath, until she'd have both of those things, back in her life. Back in her heart.

Sitting down, with her back resting comfortably against the otherwise very hard and uncomfortable chair, she looked at the horizon. It was a beautiful day and she was just chilling at a park that she knew very well, drinking a coffee that she remembered the taste of, so very well, looking at a thing, a place that had changed her life in ways she never realized _anything_ could. She had always thought that it was _people_ who changed other people. Wrong. It was places, things, events, relationships, even loss. But she didn't mind. The Hell with loss…

There was something about the horizon…

Her eyes were glued to the sky, poking through the trees that surrounded her, at that beautiful, mystical place – a place she hoped would now change her life for the third time around.

The clouds started looking like objects, the more she stared at them. Two clouds almost formed the shape of a heart and she smiled. They were beautiful.

A whole bunch of other clouds were dispersed, in the same order as her colleague's desks at the bullpen were. Or at least that's what she made herself believe. She wanted to see it – _them_…on the horizon of her life. They would always be there. They were her family.

And then there was a cloud with something like a small halo on top of it. Maybe it was just a ring of smoke, from where a plane had gone through the cloud. The Hell with the reasons why, but it really did look like an angel, to Emily. Was that the Universe's way of letting her see Angela, on her horizon?

Her eyes then drifted back to the two clouds, the first two that had caught her attention. A heart. Her heart? Well, one of the two clouds would be her heart, it _had_ to be, because it felt incomplete…divided in two. But whose half heart was the other cloud? Who would fit so perfectly, equally, proportionate, merging with _her_ cloud, forming the most irregular, yet most beautiful heart shape that she had ever seen?

With a deep sigh, she fiddled with her phone in her hands. She remembered a few things that people who love her, had recently said to her.

_"__Chin up, beautiful. The world deserves to see you smile. You deserve to be loved, Emily Prentiss – deeply and unconditionally." _– Angela's voice resonated in Emily's mind first.

_"__You deserve to be happy, with a man that treats you exactly like he did…"_ – A part of JJ's speech about Richard, whom she had never even met, came back to Emily's mind.

_"__You deserve this. Be honest with him. Tell him how you feel."_ – Rossi had said to her after the few words she had shared, in regards to someone she regretted having lied to. He didn't need words, to show him how much Emily cared about that man. Her smile, her eyes had told him way more than words ever could. It hadn't even been a conversation, but rather a few glances and one very short, but very on point piece of Rossi advice, as per usual.

_"__You are strong. Powerful. Unit Chief. Independent. Surrounded by people who would, literally, sacrifice their lives for you. And you are asking __me__ why you feel this way? With that pout on your face now, Emily? Well, you have it all. Almost all. You need one more thing, to complete your family. You need to not be afraid to let someone in - let him be your family, let him love you like you've never been loved before…"_ – Her therapist's words were next to hit her.

_"__You need to let yourself enjoy this. This is real…"_ – Last, but not least, there it was – Emily's inner voice from the night she had spent with Richard, the only night when she had been _this_ close to letting herself want to let a man be her family, want to let him love her like she had never been loved before.

The Hell with her inner voice…

She sighed one more time and she pressed her eyes shut for the longest moment, just breathing…in and out.

Her coffee cup was now empty and long gone from her hand, and she now found herself figuratively holding onto her heart tightly. If it was an invisible object, she'd now be squishing it between her fingers, with sweaty palms, holding it tight and yet, wanting nothing more but to let go, let it rest in someone else's hands now.

A cold breeze made her open her eyes abruptly and she smiled. A wide, genuine smile, creeped onto her face, as she realized that, even after the long moment she had not been looking, the horizon she saw was now just the same. The bullpen desks were there, that angel-looking shape was right there, and the heart-shaped clouds had now been pushed closer to one another, by the wind, by God or by whatever other reason that she simply did not care to investigate.

But they were there, together. Close. Perfect, in their imperfect, asymmetrical way, yet so equal-looking.

The Hell with being poetic…

Emily realized she was already holding her phone in one hand, she had even unblocked the screen, without knowing she was doing so. Wasn't that a sign enough that this was the right thing to do?

_"__This is real…"_ Her inner voice said once again and she felt shivers, going up her spine.

_"__Trust your instincts, Emily…"_

_"__Let yourself enjoy this…"_

She bit her bottom lip, feeling vulnerable. And yet, it was one of the most beautiful feelings she had ever felt.

_"__You won't regret this. You deserve this, Emily…"_

She gulped, her eyes darting off to the beautiful surroundings, just wanting to take it all in, one more time, before it would change her life forever, one more time.

Her fingers, now perfectly manicured and with the acrylic gel nails still looking awesome and feminine on her hands - those hands that had held a gun and the hands that had given punches more than a million times before; she started typing the beginning of her happy ending.

**_"…__But I can't stop thinking about you!"_**

She sent the text, having no shame, no doubts, no regrets, no cold feet, not second guessing herself anymore. She wanted this. She deserved this. She believed in this. This was real.

* * *

Richard was in the middle of a business meeting with some of the most influential people he was currently 'in bed' with. It had already been two hours and a half and he was negotiating his ass off, trying to lure them, to make them sign a damned piece of paper that would pretty much make or break his whole career. And that meeting was surely not going to be over for the next two and a half hours to come. If not more.

Very swiftly, he brushed his hands against his sweaty forehead, trying not to sigh, not to show signs of weakness. The Hell with weakness…

Victor was right there, by his side, as he had always been, since Richard could remember. Both were pitching their ideas and hoping that, rephrasing the same thing over and over again, they'd finally hit the spot with the right words.

That was not really happening, though.

Their opponents - four men and a woman, all with stern looks on their faces, were sitting across the table from them, completely unmoved and uninterested in anything Richard and Victor were saying.

At some point, Richard's phone illuminated. There was no sound, no vibration, just a light that came out on the screen.

The phone sat right next to Victor's, between both men, right in front of their faces. Victor's eyes drifted towards the table, to check whose phone was now illuminated. And then he saw it – an unsaved number, with American prefix.

And then he felt it, he felt the tension in Richard's body, instantly. As soon as he had noticed the screen, he had retrieved his hand, placing it under the table, on top of his knee, with his fingers clenching in a tight fist, as if he was trying to calm himself down. Victor had seen him do this many times before, always in stressful situations.

"Tu devrais y aller." Victor leaned in, whispering to Richard, telling him he had to go.

Richard shook his head, or at least he tried to do so. He could not deny himself the pleasure of reading that incoming text, from _that_ person. He had waited for it for so long. Almost two months - it wasn't too long, compared to a lifetime, but it was too long, compared to not spending every second of every day, with this woman by his side. Almost two months without her was torture. Almost two months without knowing if she would ever reach out, was Hell. And there was absolutely no trace of doubt in his mind that _this_ number was _her_ number and that this message was his prayers coming true.

"Aller! Tu le mérite. C'est réel." Victor urged him one more time, telling him pretty much the same thing that Emily's inner voice had been telling her, for almost two months now: _Go, you deserve this, this is real_.

He did not need to hear more.

With a smile on his face, he stood up and excused himself, walking away from those people, with only one person in mind. And in his heart, in his hands.

The Hell with business…

There would always be other opportunities to wow someone else. He didn't need those people. Well, he sure did, but they were not what he saw on that horizon of his life, what his inner conscious showed him the perfect future might look like. So, the Hell with those people…

Barely waiting to be on the other side of the door, he opened the message without reading the words yet and found himself sweating profusely, by this point.

What if it was bad?

But then again – would she really take the time of the day, to message him an insult? She had been silent for almost two months, why text him _now_, if it was bad news?

What if it was good?

His free hand swiped more sweat from his forehead before he loosened his tie. The Hell with his suit, his tie and his amazingly put-together look…

The Hell with it all!

He then realized it had been way too long since he unblocked his phone and let her message appear on the screen. Seven long seconds, during which his whole entire life – past, present and future; fast-forwarded in front of his eyes and all he could see was _her_.

A deep sigh helped him steady his emotions. He wasn't an emotional person. Life had taught him better. He never let anyone see him weak, he never admitted his pain. Victor was the only one who had ever had the privilege of seeing Richard's vulnerable side. He was so incredibly lucky that this man had given him the green light just a minute ago, to dump everything he had worked so hard for, in order to go fight for something he wanted so much.

When his eyes finally laid on the screen, he felt his lower lip quiver after finally reading her text.

This was good.

Or, at the very least, it wasn't bad.

**_"__Was the first part of this: 'I hate you'?"_**

He texted back, because the incoming message had only started from mid-sentence.

And he needed it _all_.

He needed all of _her_.

* * *

To Emily, it felt like a lifetime, sitting there, with the wind still blowing dust in her face, her eyes fixated on the magnificent thing in front of her, while her hands were gripping onto the phone to the point where it would snap at any given time now.

Waiting…

It had been almost two months now, that she had left him waiting. Was it too egoistic of her to be frowning more and more, with every second that she had to wait for _his_ reply now, instead? Was she a bad person for wanting it then and there?

Or was it only human to feel so vulnerable and emotional after having made that first step?

When her phone vibrated in her hands, she felt her heartbeat freeze completely.

Would this be bad?

What if it was bad?

But then again, would he even take the time of the day, to text her something mean? The profiler in her was against the possibility of such a vicious act. He wouldn't dare. It was not who he was.

Would it be good?

Closing her eyes for just a second, she remembered the first time they had met. He had complimented her for being beautiful. He had come out and said it, straight away, that he was intrigued to know more about her, to spend some time with her.

Did Richard have balls? Well, she already knew the literal answer to that question, but metaphorically – was he stronger than her? Why had it been so incredibly easy for him to pour his heart out to her, seconds after he had laid eyes on her? A stranger. That was what she had been to him. And, egoistically, Emily had done her best to remain a stranger to him, that entire week.

Was she weaker than him?

Was he more courageous?

Didn't that only mean that they needed each other? He needed her to show him how to be vulnerable sometimes and she needed him, to show her how to be brave, always. Wasn't that what she ultimately wanted?

With her phone in one hand, she let her free hand unbutton the top two buttons of her smart shirt. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She felt like she was boiling, like everything inside of her was on fire. Like _she_ was that fire. Like _he_ was the match that had lit that fire inside of her.

His match. Her fire.

As soon as her eyes laid on the screen, reading his reply, she felt her lower lip quiver.

It wasn't bad. But it also wasn't good.

It was neutral and she knew she didn't deserve any better, after what she did to him – making him wait for almost two months now.

Then again, she wasn't the one who had left. So, why was she blaming herself for causing him pain, when in reality, it had been _him_ who had made her cry?

And then again, hadn't those tears, those raw emotions that Richard managed to extract out of big bad Emily Prentiss, helped her? After the heartbreak, Emily had taken enough time to go back to the Emily Prentiss that Morgan once knew – the one who looked after her team, the one who got things done, the one who had managed to start loving herself in the midst of the most hurtful heartbreak she had ever experienced.

She stopped freaking out for a second and she did what Unit Chief Emily Prentiss would do – she assessed the situation.

He had broken her heart. Yes.

But that had given her Morgan back, even if only just temporarily.

That had also made her strong, it had given her the balls she needed during that Hearing. It had made her keep her head held high, chin up, always…and it had made her immune to pain, in a weird way.

After him, she had taken low blows, left and right. She had been under investigation, her every move had been surveilled, her every command had been questioned. And she had come out of it, with her head still held high, her chin up, even with a smile on her face.

She had also managed to laugh, genuinely. Granted, it had been Angela's weird Diva-like outbursts and her random singing and dancing in the middle of the street, to make her laugh, but she had laughed nonetheless. Wasn't that what Emily Prentiss needed in her life - the strength to stand up to challenges and the weakness to show emotions, to cry when she was upset and to laugh when she felt like it?

Wasn't it all because of Richard?

**_"__Yes !"_**

She texted him back, replying to his question, because even after such inner revelations, she was still an egoist, a narcissistic bitch, like JJ had promptly called her just recently, during her little emotional meltdown.

* * *

Richard was now with his back against the wall, both literally and figuratively.

This time he read her message, the second it came in, maybe because his eyes were glued to the screen and his heart stopped breathing three times, during that two-second period of time in which he saw the _"is typing…"_ line on top of the chat window.

Her reply was bad. To anyone in the world, this reply would be a bad reply and no one could ever convince them otherwise. Didn't she just admit that she hated him?

He smiled wide.

It would be bad to anyone, _but_ him.

He knew her. He knew how to read her words. He knew how to push her buttons, how to work her up and then wear her out, ultimately. He knew just how to extract the truth out of that stubborn, egoistic, narcissistic woman. And he wouldn't have her any other way. She was perfect, in all the right ways.

He then just sat and waited. He would be damned if he gave her the satisfaction of replying to _that_ text. No way. Even as desperate as he was to beg for forgiveness, he knew that words would do her no good. He knew exactly how to work her up, how to light that fire in her, how to be her match.

* * *

He wasn't replying. Why was he not replying? Emily stood up and started pacing around, her eyes glued to the architectural amazingness that was in her vicinity.

God, it was magnificent. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was perfect, with its old façade and its heart and soul, now staring at her.

She felt shivers, realizing she was now hearing voices. Was she going crazy?

_"__Oui, merci beaucoup!"_ An innocent young voice rang in her head.

Emily was now ready to cry. Why was _this_ memory hitting her so hard? Yes, she was at the very same place where it had all started, but this was all about Richard, not that other person.

_"__J'ai hâte de passer toute ma vie avec toi!"_ The imaginary vibrant young voice said to her and Emily remembered feeling quite the same: she couldn't wait to spend her entire life with that person, too.

She remembered them grabbing a piece of paper from her hands, standing right at that spot where Emily was now standing – in front of it all – front row and center. That was where they belonged – always first, always on top, always in Emily's life. Forever!

She also realized one more thing – she was now crying. And it wasn't because of Richard. It was because of the other person. Were they the route of her issues?

_"__Je t'aime plus que les mots ne pourraient l'expliquer!"_ Emily had then told this person, because it was true - she really did love them more than words could explain.

Those were her two daemons now – this person and Richard. And she had to fix both situations. She would be damned if she did not.

With a convinced look on her face, she grabbed her phone once more and typed a new message, one that overruled and substituted the previous one.

**_"__No…"_**

This time, she did not feel vulnerable. She felt like she was doing the right thing, giving Richard not only the answer he wanted to hear, but the answer her heart truly wanted to give him.

* * *

An excruciatingly long eternity after that other text had come, Richard finally received the truth.

He briefly laid his eyes on the phone, now careful on the road. Because, yes, Richard had somehow found himself inside of his car and speeding away to a place he felt the urge to connect to, once more.

He couldn't help but smirk, in a very smug way. He deserved a pat on the shoulder for having played that woman, for having refrained from the urge to text her back, until he had received the truth from her. The whole truth. Nothing but the truth.

As soon as he reached his destination, he abandoned his car, with two side wheels now up on the boardwalk and the other two on the street, parked in a restricted access area where one would surely be getting towed, or at the very least – receiving a salty fine for their dumbass parking abilities.

The Hell with fines…

His feet hit the pavement and he watched them get covered in dust. The Hell with dust… he simply did not care.

His mind was racing. What was he supposed to text back? He could not ask how she was, because that was lame. He knew she was not fine. He also knew she was not fine, because of _him_.

He could not ask what she was doing, because her answer would be "none of your business', and rightfully so.

He could also not tell her the words that he was so desperate to utter, because it was too soon. For her. Not for him. Those words would freak her out…and rightfully so.

How was he supposed to proceed? Why was he at the loss of words, apart from those three words, eight letters?

Turning the corner of two pathways, there it was – hidden behind tall trees, there was the place where it had all started.

* * *

Emily saw that "Seen" notification on the screen, to both of her replies, as soon as she had sent them. But he did not text back. Why wasn't he texting back?

She felt the urge to bite on her nails, but she also remembered a promise she had made to Angela – to keep them neat and pretty. And Emily Prentiss would be damned if she ever broke a promise to Angela Hunter.

Instead, she leaned against a fence, grabbing it with both hands, behind her back, as if to steady herself. Her head tilted upwards and she looked at the clouds one more time.

The BAU bullpen desks were still intact, perfectly aligned. JJ's desk, Luke's desk, Tara's desk…everyone's desk. They were still there, on the horizon.

One, two, three, four…ten desks.

Emily shook her head in disbelief. Her team only consisted of eight people and yet, it was one of the most numerous teams at the Bureau. It was unrealistic that there would be ten desks, as she barely had the budget to cover for eight people.

Was destiny trying to tell her something?

The Angel-shaped cloud was what she looked at next. It was now much closer to the BAU bullpen area than she remembered it from earlier. Had it moved? Or was she just perceiving it differently now? Why was it so damn close to that one desk, the one that was currently not even in the bullpen? But it was out there, on the horizon. And this single, lonely cloud was now making its way towards that single, lonely desk, like it truly belonged there.

Emily smiled. She would love nothing more. And she believed that the world had a better plan for her, better than the pain and misery it had poured on her on occasion, since she could remember herself.

It had all started at fifteen, when her world had changed forever…

The girl she had been up until then, had seen the world in all of its colors. She had been vibrant, giggly, she had believed in the good, in people, in humanity. She had smiled and she had told jokes and Emily could now not help but draw a parallel between her young self and Angela. They were basically the exact same person.

But, at fifteen, her horizon had become black. Her face had become black, with make-up; and her thoughts and vision of life, people and humanity had been tinted in a shade, even darker than black.

It had taken her years to get over it. And she still hadn't fully managed to. But she was on the right path and she could feel it. She had the right support – amazing friends who loved her so dearly and also people who really wanted to be in her life now, too. Angela was one of those. Richard, maybe, was one of those as well.

Lost in her thoughts, she opened her eyes and saw the heart shaped clouds once again. They were now fully merged into one and this one seemed smaller. It almost looked as if after that merge, the heart shape was finally retrieving, the two clouds now walking off into the sunset, together, happily…as one. She was okay with that.

The next time she opened her eyes, she found herself in the reality of her life. The Hell with being poetic and seeing all sorts of things on the horizon…

Her eyes instantly flew to a figure, on the other side of the fence of this beautiful place. And she smiled, through tears, because what she saw was so bittersweet.

Her phone rose up for a second. She now had the perfect thing to text to Richard, since he was treating her with silence.

* * *

He walked until the moment he saw it. And then he stopped. He wanted to admire this place. He had spent his every lunch break there, for almost two months now. He knew every nook and cranny. He even remembered the faces of people who, much like him, spent their time around there far too often.

He'd go there after work, too.

Sometimes, he'd grab his morning coffee to go and the place he'd go to was always the same – right there, where it had all started.

At night, when he wouldn't be able to fall asleep, he'd sometimes get out of bed and he'd go there. He loved that place after dark. It was mysterious, inviting, a little scary, so powerful to look at. God, it reminded him or _her_.

With one hand in his pocket and the other one still holding the phone, he stared at the chat. They had only texted a few words to each other, but to him it felt like he was reading a book. _Her_ book. She had opened it on page one and he was now able to read it all. He _wanted_ to read it all. And, if later on he'd find blank pages, it would be okay, because he wanted to hold her hand while she held a pen, accompanying her in writing the happy ending to the story of her life.

It would then be _their_ book.

He would hold her, he would kiss her and he'd go through every word, every letter, standing by her side. If she misspelled something, he'd correct her. If she failed at something, he'd let her know. If she was unsure, he'd push her. If she was uninspired, he'd be her muse.

It would then be _their_ story.

And, if he had to be honest with himself, he'd love nothing more but to _start_ something with her. To _build_ something with her. To _feel_ something, with her. To _create_ someone with her.

Lost in his thoughts, yet one more time, he was brought back to reality with the buzzing of his phone.

This time, it was not a message. There was no text. But he understood her perfectly.

All he saw on the screen was a photo.

A photo of him…

Him, standing on the other side of a fence, with one hand in his pocket and the other one, holding his phone – the same exact pose that he had at this very moment.

A second later, he had turned around and, in between the crowd of people who were taking photos at that same very spot, he saw her. He only saw _her_. Nothing else and no one else existed for him anymore. He only had eyes for _her_.

Another second later, he was standing right in front of her.

Emily felt naked. Yes, she was naked, in the middle of a park, surrounded by people. But most of all – being observed by him. His eyes looked at her, as if they were trying to figure her out. All of her. And that was intimidating.

The Hell with being intimidated…

She hadn't spent all those hours, sitting on a plane, just to be intimidated. By a man? Over her dead body!

Emily Prentiss was strong. People had kept reminding her of it, but it hadn't been until Angela Hunter came into her life, that she finally allowed herself to believe it was true.

She was a fighter. A warrior. An independent woman, who was not afraid to admit that she wanted someone in her life. A man could never take away what she stood for. Not anymore. She wasn't fifteen anymore. Emily Prentiss was strong. She could handle life and all of its lemons. Hell, she'd squeeze those lemons into her vodka based drink and she'd make a toast, with all of her friends, to the sourness of life and to all the crap she had been through. She'd keep her head held high and she'd laugh at all the troubles she had been through. And that would be okay, because she'd be drinking with her best friends, toasting over something that she had overcome, with the help of those same best friends. She would smile and it would then be _her_ turn to give life the middle finger, because Emily Prentiss was a Boss. She was a warrior. She knew what she was worth and she would go after her dreams, with her head held high and her best friends, right by her side.

The Hell with everything else…

She already had her best friends. She somewhat had Angela now, too. She wasn't done fighting for her just yet. She never would be.

And at that moment, she had Richard, standing right in front of her, next to the magnificent Fontaine Medicis – a place that had been the beginning of two of Emily's best things in life and was now the beginning of Richard's second rollercoaster ride with that woman.

After the longest moment - them both staring at each other's eyes, he finally broke the silence.

"Lauren-..." He said, a tone just above a whisper.

"No. Don't call me that." Emily countered right away, not letting him utter one more word that he meant for Lauren.

"My name is Emily. It's always been Emily. You never really met Lauren...and thank God for that." She added, that feeling of weakness and being unsure of herself once more creeping into her. But it was okay. She could handle it.

He opened his mouth, barely. She saw his lips part and she knew he wanted to speak.

"Shh. Please don't speak..." She pleaded silently, showing him just how vulnerable she felt.

Her pointy finger was now against his lips, physically preventing him from parting them one more time. They looked beautiful, the way they were – shut, against each other, so full, so tempting and so inviting.

She had to remind herself that physical attraction was _not_ the reason why she had jumped on that plane.

"It took everything in me, to go against everything I have ever stood for. I prayed the entire plane ride that my instincts were right...about you...about us. I know you're not who you said. But I wasn't either. And that's okay…" She started off.

The way she came out and just said it – that she knew he wasn't who he was pretending to be, didn't sit well with him.

He _had_ to speak. He couldn't hold it in anymore. She had silenced him more than enough times already. The truth _had_ to be told.

As soon as his lips parted, with her finger still pressing against them, she pouted. He stopped immediately, with pain written all over his face. He could not bear the thought of being the one to put a frown on her face.

"Shhh. Please let me finish." She said desperately and he decided to comply. He could simply not deny her. Ever.

"There are things about me that I wanted to neglect that week. I played a role...I needed to be someone else. But I ended up being 100% myself...because I never planned on this. On you. On us. And it happened and the more it was happening the more confused I was and I couldn't just bare my soul to you. I was afraid you would leave. So, now, please tell me that annoying voice in my head was right...the one who told me it was real, the night we spent together...the voice that prompted this...us...me giving you the power over me, the power I never wanted to give a man...not after what a man did to me, last time I did so..."

Her voice cracking at the end of a very steady speech, was what worried him. She had been more than vague, but he knew. Richard knew. Her eyes told him what her mouth had refused to ever speak of, since she was fifteen.

"Ma chérie..." He exclaimed, now being the one to frown. How should a man react to such news? Was there a proper way of reacting? Of replying? Of dealing with what her words even suggested?

"No. Don't talk. Please. I will chicken out and leave. As I always do. But I don't want to. Not now. Not with you. Not when I believe this is real. I would be stupid not to take a chance on you. On us. Right here, right now. Screw long distance. Screw our jobs. Screw everything and everyone. I know what I want and what I want..."

She trailed off and he wanted to hate her for it. She was a tease, an international woman of mystery, one that was making him go insane at that moment, making him wait for her to finish that sentence.

None of them had initiated physical contact so far, apart from her finger against his lips.

She moved closer to him, almost pressing against him. She had had enough time, with distance between them. No more! The Hell with distance…

"…is _you_." She finally finished that thought.

He exhaled, almost feeling her against him as his chest rose slightly when he inhaled one more time.

His hands were kept by his side and he had to constantly remind himself to behave and to not cave in to the physical attraction he was feeling towards her. This was not what he was after. Not with her.

He swiped sweat off the palm of his right hand, letting it brush against his suit pants, very casually. And then he reminded himself once more that he should not touch her. She hadn't asked him to. She hadn't given him the green light to do so. She had requested silence and privacy, so she could bare her heart and soul to him and that was exactly what he gave her.

"You can speak now..." She shivered, suddenly feeling cold. She was, after all, feeling naked, in the middle of a park, holding her heart in the palm of her hands and now extending those hands over to a man who could change her life forever.

As soon as she said those words, he relaxed and let his hands hold hers.

For the longest moment, he cupped her palms, letting his fingers brush against her skin slowly before his hands ultimately traveled up. They stopped for a brief moment, on her hips, holding her just the way she had found out she liked. _He_ had made her figure it out. He had been the first man to ever appreciate a stupid bone, her hips, just a bone where her belt usually laid on. There wasn't much else to it. But he had found the beauty of it, nonetheless. And she had found the comfort of his touch, right there, with him pulling her close before his hands traveled up her sides and ultimately ended up enwrapping her in a hug.

And there it was – his heart, beating at the same jagged rhythm, as hers. Was he vulnerable too?

She could now fully inhale the scent that she remembered so well. His eau de cologne. It wasn't exactly like the one she had been spraying at home. Yes, it was the same brand, same product, but this one now smelled better. It was a mixture of the perfume and his body and it was perfect. It was mysterious, sexy, alluring…just like him.

He wouldn't dare to kiss her, not just yet. He knew her well enough. Lauren or Emily – whatever she might want to call herself; he knew she would freak out if he made a move.

"Talk to me…" He pleaded, bringing one hand to cup her cheek, but not before brushing a tear away from it.

She wasn't afraid to cry in front of him anymore.

She didn't mind showing him her vulnerable side. Her _Emily_ side…

He was smart enough to have figured out that there was way more that she needed to say. She had only given him the green light to speak, out of courtesy. She didn't want to be an egoist and to make this a monologue, rather than a conversation.

She had also wanted to show him that they were equal. They had the same rights. She spoke, so he had to speak too. He listened, she would then listen. It wasn't about power or dominance. That message of hers got received by him, loud and clear.

"I am afraid you might say something that would change everything and I don't know how to cope with that. So, please, just tell me if this is real. I don't care _who_ you are. I know you are a good person inside and, for now, this is all I want to know about you. And I don't want to talk about my job. It's stressful and it sucks and I love every second of it, nonetheless. But I need to learn how to love, outside of the job. And I want to do this with you. So, I won't ask what you do for a living, as long as you don't ask me. I want my time with you to be about us. And no, this is not me keeping secrets. Again. I'm a good person. Emily is an amazing, strong, powerful woman...who just needs someone by her side, so she could also be happy. Can you do this for me? Can you respect my request?"

She didn't want to give him an ultimatum, but this was what she needed and she had promised herself she'd tell him the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"I would really love to tell you _everything_ about me..." Richard also spoke his truth. He wasn't okay with what she was suggesting. He needed to get a lot off his chest and her little request was preventing him from doing so, yet again.

"No. I'm not ready for it. I don't want things to change." She said, with determination.

He then knew he _had_ to drop it, no matter how hard it was. Each time she had prevented him from speaking the truth, he had found it harder and harder to keep it in. It wouldn't be fair to her when, one day, it would all come out. And this was inevitable. He didn't want to start anything with her, before she knew exactly who he was.

And yet – she was _begging_ him to keep that secret.

"Please... Let's agree to only talk about our jobs when it is a matter of life or death? Something so big that we know we must not keep a secret? Otherwise, I want _you_...and I don't care what you do. I can take it. Emily is strong. She doesn't care about your money or how illegal your activities might be..." She continued.

"Woah. Hold up. There is nothing illegal about me and my job. I can assure you of that." Defensive – this was a new side to Richard that she was just seeing.

"Good. That's good enough. For now. I am more than willing to tell you everything about me, my life, my job, have you meet my friends...but not now. Not yet. Please understand..." She was no longer pleading. She was downright begging. And that took a lot of courage to do.

"Are you sure you want this? Us..." He asked, needing one more confirmation.

"Never been more sure of anything in my life!" Emily replied instantly, bringing her hands to hold him, too.

"Ok then. Let's do this." He whispered, bringing his lips closer to hers and letting them linger there for a moment.

"I'm all in, Richard." She said, with her head held high, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. But this time she would not be the first one to kiss. She had given him enough power and enough leeway to be the first one to kiss.

For the first time, Emily Prentiss did not want to kiss him.

She wanted _him_ to kiss _her_.

"I'm all in, Emily." He said happily.

Hearing her real name escape his lips for the first time ever, made her smile. And now all she needed was to feel those lips, against her own.

He obliged happily.

Holding her tight, he kissed her with all he had. It felt like a lifetime that they spent like this, kissing, with her literally melting in his hands, letting out a few of those soft moans that she had learned to appreciate.

They didn't need to say more words. words could not express what they felt.

What Emily needed was to feel his hands, caressing her body and holding her like she was finally his. And she was – she was finally _his_ and it felt…good, it felt…right. As weird as this sounded, in her own head, it felt…natural. She had never felt so comfortable and easygoing, in the hands of any other man. She needed him to hold her, to complete her, to challenge her, to make her laugh and to make her mad. She needed him to be someone she could talk to, so she could finally learn how to trust another human being completely, with no reservations. No lies. No pretending. No more secret identities. No more Lauren. No more pain from the past. A clean slate…Emily Prentiss needed a new relationship where she would be completely herself and where a man would see her for who she really was, not for her job and not for her money. She wanted someone to love her – Emily, the geeky weirdo who sometimes would say the wrong thing at the wrong time and who would randomly make a fool out of herself in public, the woman who would laugh at herself and who could take a joke. She needed him to figure out who she was, before he would learn about the Unit Chief, the job and the past she had. The Hell with the past. This was her present. And she needed him to be her future.

And what Richard needed, instead of words, was _her_. All of her. He wanted to hold her like she was his and to love her the way no other man ever had. He wanted to do stupid little mundane things with her, he wanted to make her laugh, he wanted to make her happy and occasionally he also wanted to enrage her until she would be fired up and fuming, screaming at the top of her lungs. He would then calm her down and he would tame her daemons, making love to her like she had never experienced such pleasure before. He needed her to be his other half, but without specifying which one was the 'better' half. He needed a woman who would be his equal and so far the only woman he had ever met, who felt completely equal to him – nothing more, nothing less and the best of all…not even wanting to be more or less than him; was Emily. Her. No competition. No games. No lies. No deceit. He wanted a woman that he could look at and see her full worth – with her best qualities, her random other qualities and her worst qualities, too. He needed a woman who would laugh her ass off with him, but a woman who would also be able to break down completely, who would let him hold her as she'd sob and cry, a woman who would not be afraid or ashamed to be human. Also, a woman who would then turn around and say something so incredibly random and dorky, that she would make both of them laugh, right when the tears would have stopped. Unpredictable. Amazing. Challenging. Emotional. Passionate. Spontaneous. Courageous. Insecure. Strong. Bossy. Flirty. So damn inappropriate. He needed a woman who would be all of those and more. He needed her to be everything, he needed her to be perfect and to also have her flaws, but to be proud of those flaws, even willing to admit them out loud. And the only woman of that kind he had ever met in his entire life was her. Emily. She used to be 'Lauren' to him in the past. She was 'Emily' to him in the present. And he wanted her to be 'everything' to him, in their future.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"rmpcmfan"** Well, dreams are messy and weird to decipher, remember this. Maybe it's their conscious, just messing with them? Like, how they both thought Angela or Bella were the same other little girl from the dream. Maybe they were. Maybe they weren't. :) I **reeeeeeeeeeeeally** enjoy writing flashbacks and dream scenes! I will need lots of those in the future chapters, to explain the past of a few characters. Also, I'm a sucker for emotionally-loaded scenes, so I try to write those whenever they make sense, lol, I just hope they come out as nice as I want to write them (you know, the whole_ 'I'm not a native English speaker'_ thing holds me back). As for Emily's decision...hope you enjoyed the execution of that decision, lol! She's a bit over the top, but ain't that why we adore her? :P

**"sweetkid45"** Your hopes have been rewarded in this current chapter, hehe! :) And yeah, I'd like to see Angie and Emily's relationship go deeper (PLATONIC!). They both seem to enjoy each other's company a lot!


	111. My Team Always Comes First

** CHAPTER 111**

_**MY TEAM ALWAYS COMES FIRST**_

"May I take you to lunch, Emily?" Richard said after an eternity they spent, holding each other in front of that majestic fountain that, Emily was sure of it, had super powers.

"No." She replied calmly after checking her phone to see what time it was.

He frowned. He wasn't the emotional type of a guy who'd show his feelings so easily. But with her, everything about him was different. Better, even.

"But you can take me to the airport." She added.

"Oh?" He exclaimed. Had she already been in Paris for days now? Did she only contact him right before she'd leave?

"I only landed a few hours ago. And I have to work tomorrow. So, I had to book the first flight back home, you know, giving myself time to get over whatever heartbreak I was setting myself up for, this time around…" She trailed off.

Richard realized how incredibly hard she must have taken it, last time. Had she been too upset to work, after what he had done to her? Was she scared that this time it would be the same – that she'd go back home with a broken heart?

This was all his fault.

"But this does not mean I am leaving. Not you. Not now." Her hand caressed his cheek, giving him some comfort.

"When will I see you again?" He asked, a little impatient, a little scared of what her answer might be.

"I don't know. I haven't thought this far. Mentally, I only really went through _this_ talk – me being open and honest with you about my feelings; about a million times. I even wrote it down, but it was nothing like what came out of my mouth earlier. It was the perfect speech, really…I would have had you crying by the end of it." She smirked. Emily loved writing speeches and then improvising everything at the last moment. She was good at it.

"Can I read it, Emily?" He finally smiled.

"Nope." Emily's hand was now pressed against his chest. "But I can read it to you, next time we meet."

"Mhh, yeah? We have a deal then, Emily." With those words he gave her another kiss.

After a long moment, Emily chuckled.

"What's on your mind, Emily?" His words made her chuckle again.

"Just the fact that you can't stop saying my real name now." She said, going in for one more kiss. "It sounds good. Sounds just about right."

"Despite my accent?" He teased.

"Mmh, _especially_ because of your sexy French accent." She smirked.

One day she might tell him just how much a man with an accent turned her on. Or, she'd rather _show_ him.

"Can't you stay one more day? There is a flight tomorrow morning." He pleaded.

"No. My team needs me right now. And to be honest, they always would. My team always comes first, but that doesn't mean there is no place for anyone else in my heart. You'll just have to learn how to cope with it, because it is what it is and it is always going to be like this."

"I appreciate your honesty, Emily." He whispered. "Now, let's get you to the airport."

"I have two more questions." Emily prevented him from moving, as he was about to take a step backwards.

"Is your name really Richard? And have you lied to me, about anything?" She asked, looking straight into his eyes.

"Yes, my real name is Richard. And no, I have not lied to you, not for a single thing. I have not told you the whole truth, yes. But no, I never wanted to lie to you, and so I never did."

"Good." She nodded, bringing him closer and kissing him one more time.

She really was insatiable. If he hadn't figured it out on their last night together, he was becoming more and more sure of it now.

"Then my instincts were right and I did the right thing by coming here on a whim." She added.

"I'm glad you followed your instincts, Emily." His words were accompanied by the thumb of his right hand, now gently massaging her chin before he kissed her again.

She was insatiable, but so was he.

"God, say that name, with that accent, one more time and ugh…" She chuckled, finding it hard not to tell him how much she wanted him. But that would be too soon. Too direct. And her whole trip revolved around fixing things with him, not getting naughty. In her experience, sex was what ruined a relationship, if that was all it revolved around. Not that she didn't want it, like, _all_ the time.

All he could do was laugh. She was more than the perfect woman, in his eyes.

Emily realized that Richard was then walking in direction of a car she did not recognize. It was still fancy, but it looked like a work car - big, black, super clean and shiny, with tinted windows. If she saw that car driving down the street, she'd think the President was inside. That was how authoritarian it looked. But then again, Richard did not have a driver. He drove it himself.

"So, long distance right away, huh?" He started a conversation as she was then being awfully quiet in the car, on their way to the airport.

"I guess so. I mean, nothing in my life has ever been conventional, so why the Hell not?" She replied, with her eyes looking out the window, wanting to soak in the sight of the most beautiful city in the world.

"I can take some days off…" He suggested, because even if she was there, with him now, he could not wait until he'd see her again.

"Me too. But I'm always on call, so even if I fly to the other side of the world, I could always get called in and then I'd have to drop everything and just go." She sighed.

"Because of the team?"

"Precisely." With a nod, she finally looked at him. "I have a very stressful job and I am responsible for the lives of seven people on my team. I can never slack off or get distracted."

"I understand that, perfectly well." He avoided looking into her eyes, because that would have triggered him to pour it all out – his actual job, his actual identity. Yes, his name was Richard, but she had absolutely no idea who she was getting herself into bed with. Literally! And the more he'd wait to reveal it all, the more damage it could cause to their relationship.

"I am responsible for a lot of people, as well. And I hate all the bureaucracy, anything connected to politics and also - paperwork. I'm more of a…I guess you could say, a man of action." He added, making her appreciate him even more. Emily despised politics, so anyone who shared her feelings about them, was automatically someone she liked and could relate to.

"Mhm, I've seen some action from you." She teased. And that was precisely what made her perfect – that dirty mind of hers, that boldness when she'd come out and say things like that.

"Well, you could have seen more, if you took the morning flight." His suggestion was alluring, but she would not let herself cave into the temptation.

"No. This is not why I am here. I needed to talk. I needed to figure out my feelings and to see if you felt somewhat the same, about me. That's all. And I got it all and I am perfectly fine with things, right now, the way they are." She sighed, realizing that she had never been _so_ brutally honest with a man. She'd always lie and pretend, she'd smile and she'd say whatever she needed to say, but never what was really on her mind.

And, with Richard, she was all different. Better, even.

He kept on driving and they weren't too chatty after that. Both had a lot on their minds.

When they finally reached the airport, he asked her the question he really needed to know the answer of.

"Where do we stand?"

"We are standing in the middle of an airport where I'd be leaving from…" She wouldn't be Emily Prentiss if she didn't reply in the most vague and weird way.

"And where I'd gladly be back to, as soon as I can. For you." She held out her hand and he held it instantly.

"That's where we stand. Nothing official. Just…us, giving this a try. Good enough?" She asked.

"Good enough." He replied, really wanting to add: _for now_.

"Washington, DC…" He pointed out as he saw her eyes lay on the check in counter that interested her.

"I live in Virginia, but that's where the earliest flight will take me. Closer to home than New York." She smirked.

"Yeah, I figured…even if you didn't live in New York, you'd maybe want to go there and get hammered, you know, test out the City that never sleeps, forgetting all about me and our week together, after what I did to you-…"

She put her finger on his lips, preventing him from saying another word.

"Shh. Ancient history. I don't want to talk about it, okay? You did what you did and I felt the way I felt. It's over and done with. Let's not remind ourselves of it?" Emily pleaded.

"As long as you promise to, one day, give me the chance to tell you the whole truth about everything. No interruptions. I need to know that I'm going into this, into _us_, knowing that you are willing to listen to me explain it all. Okay?"

"Okay, I promise. But please, not now, not any time soon. Respect my request. I'm not ready for more truths." Emily had a gut feeling. Yes, her inner voice had told her this was real and Richard had confirmed that it was not just a temporary physical attraction between them. Yes, they were giving this a chance. But something, deep down inside of her, made her worried that his whole truth may be something that Emily Prentiss would not like.

And yet, she was willing to give them a Go. Because any man that made her feel the way Richard made her feel, was a man that deserved to be given a chance. And she would be crazy not to do it.

"Are you scared?" He asked, holding her one more time before she'd have to leave.

"Yes…" She whispered. It was new to her to admit she was afraid. "But it's okay. I'm a tough gal. I can handle it. I know, at the end of the day, it will all be worth it."

He smiled at her, his hands holding her tight, just like she remembered. She had missed his touch. She missed the way he was obsessed with looking at her face. She even missed how uncomfortable that made her feel sometimes. She missed everything about him.

And she'd miss _him_, too, until the next time they could be together.

"Have a safe flight, Emily." He said after giving her the most passionate kiss they had shared yet.

"Mhm." She nodded once they broke it off.

"I'll text you when I land." With those words, she reassured him that she would, indeed, keep in touch.

She wouldn't simply disappear. She wasn't leaving. She was just continuing her life, but now with the thought of him, being part of it.

And Richard was more than okay with that. For the time being.

* * *

This time, the flight was a lot more bearable. She was not crying, if not for those couple of happy tears that managed to roll down her cheeks when she thought about the outcome of her trip.

She was crazy.

She must have been completely out of her right mind, to travel to a different continent and spend a few hours between arrival and departure, just to talk to someone. What if things hadn't gone the way they did? What if she had gotten her heart broken again?

She was absolutely crazy, there was no other explanation for it all.

And yet, for once in her life, things had actually gone the way she wanted them to. After being scared through the whole plane ride there, she found out that telling someone the truth, even if it was still partial, was not such a bad thing after all. She figured that, sometimes in life, it was okay to let a man know how she felt, it was okay to not pretend to be tough all the time, it was okay to be vulnerable and to let that show. It was only human.

And he had taken it more than well. All of it, including the most important part, which was the fact that her team would always come first. She had given this a lot of thought and the one compromise she was not willing to make, for Richard or anyone else in the world, was the team. They were her family, for years. They had stood by her side, they had saved her life. She owed everything to them. So, it would be really dumb if she up and left one more time, chasing someone, even if it meant chasing her own happiness. After hours of silent battles with her own daemons, Emily had decided that her priority in life was her team and if anyone else could find a way to be in her life, be her family even, they were welcome to do so, but they'd have to get in line and hold hands with the members of her team. Because that was what the BAU stood for – always there for each other, always extending a helping hand and welcoming new people to their little family. And that was what Emily Prentiss wanted in her life.

The landing in Washington, DC was much smoother than the one, almost two months ago, in New York City. Was it another sign of faith, that everything was going well this time?

After grabbing herself a smoothie and something to eat from the airport, she headed off to the parking lot where she had left her car.

Looking at it, she realized two things: she had missed it, despite all the little dents and scratches, but also – she needed a new car.

Richard's car, whatever his job might have really been, made him look like an absolute bad ass boss figure.

Emily's car, however, made her look like she was a random housewife from a rich neighborhood, one that did not like going to the car wash too often and one that would bump into whatever was in her way when she'd park – trees, trash cans, bikes, poles, anything really…and she had the dents to prove it.

Before she'd start driving, she sent him that text that she had promised.

_"__Landed. Flight was surprisingly nice. Saw a really dumb movie and regretted not buying myself a good book from Paris this time, ugh!"_

Vague, not too short, but not too long either. Emotionally restrained, yet not too impersonal.

Then she drove an extra hour and a quarter, back to her home before allowing herself to enjoy a nice bubble bath and an ice-cream prior to going to bed early.

* * *

"Please tell me you didn't screw it up this time?" Victor jumped at Richard, the second he saw him walk back into his office.

"Have you been stalkily waiting for me here this whole time?" Richard's miserable attempt of not discussing that matter, failed.

"No. First I had to wow the business associates with some random idea that came to my mind after you left, and then I came here. And yes, I drank your scotch." Victor smirked.

"To Lauren!" Victor added, holding up a glass and making a toast.

"Uhhh…" Richard sighed profoundly. "She already told me her name is Emily and no, I did not screw it up this time."

"Good. And I better be best man, dude, because it's _her_, man. I'm telling you – it's always been _her_! She's the one!" Victor's enthusiasm was endearing, but Richard was nowhere near ready to hear anything about marriage. The pain of how his previous marriage had ended was still haunting him.

"Okay, calm down. I think you might need a re-fill for this one…" Richard offered Victor some more alcohol, clearly having something to add.

"Oh, shit. What did you do now?" Victor frowned, making Richard wonder how many glasses he had already downed, while waiting for him.

"I listened. And when she made a request, I said Ok. That's all." Richard shrugged, trying to put it nice and neat before he'd explain the mess that had actually happened.

"If that request was of sexual kind, please _don't_ spare me the details!" Victor smirked. He was Richard's own version of the JJ to Emily. They would discuss the most private things and they would not find it disturbing, at all.

"Also, why are you here right now and not…I don't know, somewhere, making her wishes come true?" Victor added with a smirk.

"Her request was that we _don't_ talk about our jobs. For now. So, she only told me her real name, but she made it painfully clear that she would not be telling me where she works and she has very kindly asked me to do the same, in turn. Twice." Richard was now pouring himself a very much needed drink, as well.

"Oh, no!" Victor gasped. "Oh, now you're really screwed!"

"Tell me about it…"

"Didn't you try to be honest? I know you wanted to tell her about…well, everything…"

"I tried, but each time she stopped me and literally begged me to shut up. She does not want to hear any of it. I feel like she is terrified of what she might hear…"

"Well, I mean…can you blame her?" Victor's hand showcased Richard's office.

An elegant space, with a desk and great chairs, a drawer full of paperwork and a drawer with a gun inside of it. On his computer, the word 'drugs' was contained in most of the e-mails he had both received and sent out. On the desk, a big and obnoxious sign with his name and his job title, proudly on display for everyone to read upon entering.

"Yeah, she already mentioned she thinks I'm into some shady illegal business…" Richard looked around his office as well.

He saw blood, sweat and tears. He saw years of hard work, just to get to where he was. He saw a job that he liked, a title that he knew he deserved and a man who had backed him up through the majority of his life. He should have been happy with what he had, no matter what it entailed.

But he wasn't. Not without her. And the thought of her, freaking out when she would learn it all, was giving him a headache. There was no way he'd lose her one more time, not now that he was finally being given a shot at happiness, with her.

"I hope she's as tough as we believe. Otherwise…" Victor made a little heart shape with his fingers and brutally snapped it in two halves, before his hands went different ways.

"You have questionable ways of supporting your best friend, you know that, right?" Richard laughed, because all the nerves and all the pent up tension were starting to rise.

"Sir…" Someone walked in his office, their face pale.

"We have an emergency." That person added before they poured out all the information they had.

"Crap!" Richard rolled his eyes.

"Alright, don't panic. We can do this. I need you to call everyone we have available right now. I need at least ten people out there." He said to Victor who was already typing that SOS message on his phone.

"And I need to be accompanied to the bunker. We need five large containers." Richard kept on speaking.

"But, Sir, what for?" The man who had entered his office, asked hesitantly.

"For the firearms. We are making the trade. We're giving them what they want and it's going down tonight." Richard said calmly.

"Holy shit, Richard, are you insane!?" Victor flipped out. "Those guns can smoke out a city in minutes. We can't just make a trade, not when the stakes are so high."

"And that is why _I_ am the boss." Richard said calmly once again.

"Please tell me you have a plan!?" Victor pleaded.

"I _always_ have a plan. Get the people ready. Fill in the containers and let's go. We're doing this at sunset, by their operations base." Richard smiled, finding it kind of challenging, kind of good to be back to who he loved being. This was his world and this was what he had always known. And he wouldn't trade it for anything and anyone in the world.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Hi again! How have you been? Hope things are going good. Thank you for making the time to make me happy with those words :)! I've been sooooooo excited to post chapter 110 and I switched up my posting schedule, so it would fit on October 12th, because I'm a dork and I waned it to be Emily's birthday present, lol, even if in the chapter it it NOT the day of her birthday! Oh, I got plans for that one, later on.

Also, I've been admitted to the Maryland STEM Festival - I'm doing the "Forensics in action" webinar and I AM SO EXCITED ! PS: Clearly, just as a spectator.

**"rmpcmfan"** Wohooo, thank youuuuu for the kind words! I've re-read chapter 110 a million times, making sure it was cute, but still credible, yet romantic and with enough explanation as to why Emily Prentiss is suddenly going against everything she stands for, with how she acts and talks. And I love me a sweet lil' poetic metaphor here and there :)! Yes, it was CRUCIAL for Emily to tell him her real name! She hated it that Richard looked at her and saw 'Lauren'. In a way, Emily was incredibly jealous of that and in a way it pissed her off, because Lauren was bored of him and she did not deserve him, so why would _she_ be getting all the appraisal from him, instead? And lol, Richard nearly snapped at her when she hinted at his illegal business affairs, hahaha! I can't wait until she learns who the heck he really is, lol! And wow, wooow, wait, slow dooown...ain't nobody talkin' about careers just yet! It's a HUGE part of the story and it CANNOT be disclosed right now. It needs to be a secret and trust me, Emily would do her absolute best to ignore his pleas to tell her everything. She may or may not regret her stubbornness later on haha!

**"sweetkid45"** I've been super excited about posting that chapter where Emily goes to talk to him! It was important to her to tell him her real name, I mean, she already has other things she wants to keep a secret for now :)! As for Angie - she will get what she deserves - nothing more, nothing less hehe! Thanks, I am glad you enjoyed the chapter!


	112. Stuck Between Two Worlds

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Hello, everyone :)!

Just poppin' in to say HI and to point out that my French readers will surely know the pastries I mention in this chapter, hehe! I would love it if the French readers reach out to me, you guys can give me amazing ideas for authentic French foods/things/traditions/activities! And also I'd love to chat with you and with whoever else might like to come out of hiding and come say HI to me hehe!

I see ya'll in my stats! I have readers from all over the world and this is mind-blowing! I'd love to greet all of you, so please reach out - I am not begging for reviews, I'd be perfectly happy with a private message as well, if you do not want to be too public. I just genuinely want to 'meet' more of you. I appreciate you following me for so long and I hope my updates give you a little something to help take your mind off of work, school, politics, drama, world going wild, etc.

Have a wonderful week and enjoy this new installment of my lil' creation:)!

* * *

**CHAPTER 112**

_**STUCK BETWEEN TWO WORLDS**_

"Oh, mother balls!" Emily exclaimed, walking into her office early on Monday morning and finding a slim figure, sitting in her chair, with their back at her.

It took her a second to reach out for her gun.

The chair turned around painfully slowly and Emily exhaled.

"Angela, for God's sake, it's half past six. What are you even doing here?" Emily said after a mini heart attack.

"First of all, you really like saying that line about the balls, don't you?" Angie smirked, standing up and letting Emily sit down on her comfortable chair. She did look like she needed to sit down.

"Secondly, my PFT got canceled and it sucks because I already did my cardio run and now I'm left high and dry…" Angie continued.

"I can't figure out if there is a sexual connotation to your last words, but I sure hope there isn't…" Emily rolled her eyes.

"As for your PFT, that's too bad. Now I feel kind of guilty for having all this sweet time on my hands, to enjoy in the gym downstairs, before everyone starts rolling in." Emily added with a smirk.

"Lucky you. I wish I had a gym to go to…" Angie gave her best performance - those puppy eyes, pleading in the most obvious kind of way.

"Yeah, sucks for you. I really feel your pain. You know, my gym also has free refreshments and occasionally they leave complementary energy bars for those early birds." Emily kept on playing her game. She was enjoying this more than anything else. Well, almost anything.

"Awwh. Your life sounds so awesome!" Angie said dreamily.

"You know what? As of recently, I can't complain." Grabbing her water bottle and a gym bag, Emily stood up from her desk and walked over to the door.

"So, you're going to work out at that cool gym, huh?" Angie had no idea how desperate she sounded. She also did not know that Emily knew what she was pointing at and that she was going to make her sweat for it.

"Yes, I am." Emily was cold, ice cold.

"Well, I mean, I hope you have a great work out. God, I know how good it is to start your week with a good work out. It makes you feel so refreshed, so ready for anything that will come your way. It's an amazing feeling, actually. I hope my PFT doesn't get canceled next Monday morning as well. I hate starting a week off lazy. It's the worst. It makes me feel like a failure and Angela Hunter is not a failure. She likes to work out. A lot. Especially on Monday morning-…"

Emily had just walked in the elevator, with Angie who would not shut her mouth until Emily pressed the palm of her hand against it.

She tossed a towel at Angie - apparently she had two fresh ones in her gym bag; and she sighed.

"Shut up already!" Emily laughed, finally letting Angie have her win.

"I always get what I want!" Angie smirked, whispering to herself, but unluckily for her, Emily had super hearing when it came to her.

"Not with me, you won't, young girl." Emily countered and Angie almost let her foot stomp to the ground, like as if she was fourteen again.

She remembered being fourteen once. She had been happy. She had lacked any sort of stability in her life, but she had been extremely happy, with someone special, by her side. And she missed those days, so much.

* * *

"Where's Hunter?" Dan asked Bryan when PFT started and she was nowhere to be seen.

Bryan had woken up that morning and noticed Angie was gone, wearing her running shoes, so as many times before he had figured he'd be seeing her at PFT later. But she hadn't showed up.

"Stomach virus. She couldn't get out of bed this morning." Bryan covered for her, hoping he wouldn't make a fool out of himself if she rolled up to the field five minutes later, announcing that she was just late to training.

Then again, this had never happened before. She was always early, even for tactical driving, which she absolutely despised.

"Yeah, sure." Dan hissed back. "She'd be training even inside of a damn body bag. Now tell me, where is my Trainee?"

"Sir, I don't know. I really do think she is sick." Bryan shrugged, deciding to be a bit more honest this time.

"We'll see about that." Dan walked away grumpily.

It wasn't like Angela to cut training, so she must have had a great reason to do so. He just hoped she was alive and out of trouble.

* * *

"So, how much trouble are you going to be in, for cutting PFT?" Emily finally came out and asked once they started working out together at the actual Agents' gym downstairs.

It was painfully obvious Angie had lied earlier. Emily knew it from the moment Angie had laid eyes on her, this morning.

"I'll let you know when I figure it out myself." Angie shrugged, walking to the pull ups station while Emily worked on abs.

"Why would you risk it?" Something wasn't adding up. Emily already knew that Angela was an overachiever, much like herself. Why would she cut class, now more than halfway done with the Academy?

"Just…because…"

"Oh, come on. What happened to being honest with each other?" Emily smiled brightly.

"That was for that other week. And that's over, so…" Angie trailed off.

"Ooh, so that's what it is. You're upset you're no longer my Mini?" Emily tried not to burst with pride, but it still showed in the way she spoke.

"I figured, if I can't have another week, or even another day like that, I could at least start my Monday morning with you and then pretend like it would be like that every day for the rest of the week…and the month…and the year…and my life…" Angie shrugged, feeling absolutely silly.

Emily took a moment to breathe and she simply just looked at Angela who was now eagerly doing pull ups, sweating, her face red and fuming, as she pushed all of her weight up, making sure her grip was good and that her body position met the Bureau standards. She was doing her absolute best to be the best at anything she possibly can.

What she didn't know was how damn perfect she already was, at least in Emily's eyes.

"Hey, how about that - I'll call Dan later and let him know I've requested to work out with you this morning? He would never punish you if I take the heat for it." Emily suggested and Angie finally stopped pretending like she was busy concentrating on her work out and not thinking of how weird she felt to have said her previous words out loud.

"You'd do that? For me?" She asked with a tiny smile.

"Yes, I would." Emily nodded. "In fact, how about we make Monday mornings time for us? We can work out together and then go have breakfast somewhere. Then you'll be back in time for your classes and I'll be back for my morning meet up with my team."

"You can do that!?" Angie gasped.

As far as she knew, all trainings were obligatory, except for when one had serious health issues.

"I sure can." Emily stated, hoping it was true. She had no idea, but she knew she wouldn't back down until Dan would allow Angie to miss out on Mondays' PFT.

"Can we go to the French place?" Angie asked enthusiastically.

"You really like that place, don't you?" Emily already knew the answer to that question.

"Mhm." Angie replied with Emily's favorite one line and they both laughed.

An hour and a half later they were fresh and clean after a shower, but Angie was now facing a new challenge – she had walked over to Emily's office, wearing just her sportswear and she had nothing to change into.

"My go bag is in my car. You can choose something out of it." Emily announced as they walked out of the gym, with Angie wearing her unused tank top as a skirt and her jacket on top, with nothing else underneath. Her active wear was soaked in sweat and there was no way she'd be putting it back on after a shower.

Once they reached Emily's car, she opened the trunk and let Angie look at whatever she found inside.

"Woah, you just came back from Paris!? No wonder you look so fresh and happy, for once!" Angie called out to Emily who was now getting in the car to start it up.

"Oh God, not _that_ bag!" Emily sighed, realizing her onboard handbag from yesterday's flight was still in the trunk, with the check in sticker hanging from its top handle.

"So, I guess I wasn't supposed to see _those_, either?" Angie put her hand up in the air, allowing Emily to see it from the rear-view mirror in the car.

"Ugh." Emily groaned. "Yes, Angela, those were for you."

"Awesome! J'aime les macarons!" She said happily, adoring the beautiful packaging of macaroons – her favorite French pastry, before she finally picked up a pair of pants and a smart shirt from Emily's actual Bureau Go Bag.

"Jesus, what on Earth do you wear at work?" Angie was scandalized. He had chosen the most Okay-ish items from that bag and yet, they looked like they belonged to an old lady.

"I'm not sure if you fully understand this, but I am Unit Chief, for the FBI…" Emily started off.

"So, you have to dress like a nun? Come on, oh my God, is this a turtleneck? A turtleneck, Emily!" She was now even more scandalized.

"Hey, that's my comfortable 'around the hotel' lounge wear…" Emily frowned. Yes, she could have picked something a little less…nun-like. But no, that did not give Angela the right to be so brutally honest.

And then again – Emily was done with people who'd lie to her, people who wouldn't have the balls to tell her the truth, to her face, no matter how harsh the truth was.

"You don't fully understand what a banging body you have, for someone your age, do you?" Angie raised an eyebrow, now getting in the back of Emily's car.

"You can change once we go to the Mall. Plenty of changing rooms there to…oh, okay…" Emily cut herself off as she realized Angie was now already buttoning up her shirt. She had no problems changing in the back of the car. Nobody was around to see.

"Now back to you being one hot piece of-…"

"Angela!" Emily cut her off before she'd continue.

"What? Someone has to break it to you! Come on, a smart shirt I can justify…but only when it's playfully unbuttoned until right about, hmm…here…" Her hand gestured to the third button down, which was unbuttoned and it looked great on her. But she was twenty three years old. Emily was, well, not.

"I could never pull that off." Emily gasped.

"Ever tried?" Angie smirked and saw how Emily failed to give her a reply. "See? Don't knock it until you try it."

"It's not a fair comparison. You'd look amazing in _anything_!" Emily whined just a tiny little bit.

Angela was gorgeous and there was no question about it.

"Got it from my Momma." Angie smirked. She loved the good genes she had been given at birth. She also never really liked to think or talk about that part of her life.

"Come on, we are wasting valuable time. Drive! We need to treat ourselves with some amazing French pastry and then we need to go get you new clothes!" Angie urged her to go.

"Well, there is a certain satisfaction that only a French can give you…" Emily said, more to herself.

"Huh?" Angie questioned, but Emily was so damn busy looking at the side mirror.

"Pastry, I mean." Emily added innocently.

"Oh, my God! That man you were trying to figure out all week long. He's French, isn't he? Oh, wow. Oh, girl…wow, you're in for some gooooooood time." Angie said cheekily.

"Alright, exactly how many French men have you had a 'goooooood' time with, young lady?" Emily scolded her, imitating the way Angie had said the word 'good'.

"Whose asking?" Angie smirked. Her private business was nobody else's business.

Emily gave her a stern look.

"Fine. None!" Angie frowned. "Not for the lack of trying, though. I mean, Gosh, some of them were just so damn hot."

"But…?"

"But I never really wanted to do anything more than to fool around and then dump them. Guess it's how I roll."

"Good. Keep it that way." Emily could not help but come off protective.

"You realize I'm not going to be sweet and innocent for the rest of my life, right?" Angie pouted.

"Not that you are sweet and innocent _now_…" Emily threw that in, just for the record. "But under _that_ specific aspect, you should remain innocent until you actually _want_ to be with someone, worthy of you."

"Well, yeah, can't argue with that. And don't worry, I'm not like most girls. Guys are the last thing on my long list of desires. In fact, I shall say I am not entirely sure if they are even _on_ that list."

Emily shot her a glance after that statement.

"That is not to say that _girls_ are." Angie sighed. "Been there, tried that, no thank you."

"Tried _what_ exactly?" Emily was now pale and speechless. Not because of what that hint might suggest – Emily would be perfectly fine with it; but because she had not expected that, at all. She just liked to believe she could profile the crap out of this girl, like there was nothing she could say or do to surprise her. And _this_ would be a surprise.

The way Angie spoke sometimes made it sound like something huge had happened.

"Again – whose asking?" Angie smirked. "Relax. I'm not a sex-crazed individual and quite frankly, I don't think I ever will be, not with everything that-…"

Angie cut herself off and remained silent for a whole minute.

So did Emily, because the mere thing that this girl's words were suggesting was not something Emily was okay with. Had something happened to her?

Angie then trailed her left hand index finger against the dainty little ring on her right hand and she sighed one more time.

"Hey, if you ever need any advice…" Emily offered.

She knew what it felt like – to be young, pure and naïve, with nobody to talk to, when it came to these things. She also remembered where this had brought her, at the tender age of fifteen. She'd be damned if Angela turned out to be _anything_ like her!

"I know. I'll come to you. I promise." Angie nodded and let Emily drive, without hitting her with any more grandiose statements.

"You can't park here. It says it's reserved." Angie pointed out when, five minutes of silence later, they reached the parking lot of the Mall.

"Sweet government plates, you know?" Emily smirked.

For a big shopping center, it sure had a tiny parking lot, which was weirdly crowded, for a Monday morning. So, Emily had no other choice.

"Gosh, I really want to be you!" Angie stated enthusiastically and it made Emily smile.

It was a compliment, for sure.

She remembered her first interactions with Angela Hunter. During her Welcome Speech at the Academy, Angie had been the only one seemingly unmoved. In fact, she had been the only one to yawn and roll her eyes during that undeniably amazing part of Emily's speech, where she told everyone how her team was her family.

Then, after the BAU hearing, Emily had received the cold shoulder from her, twice, and she was sure that the only reason the girl had come out for drinks that one night had been because the Trainees, namely Bryan, had dragged her to the bar for some free booze.

Everything had been…strained. Like a bad relationship. And then, with time, things had gotten better. They had gotten to know each other and the introverted and secretive Angela Hunter had started sharing things with the curious and protective Emily Prentiss.

"Food first?" Emily suggested.

"Food will _always_ come first!" Angie spoke, already walking towards the French pastry shop. That girl sure had an appetite.

Angie saw the same elderly man from before and she walked over to the counter to greet him. He seemed happy to see her back, he remembered how polite she had been the last time, so he offered both of them any drink of their choice.

"Oh, how about a French 75?" Angie exclaimed, checking out the menu and finding her favorite cocktail on it.

"I don't think he meant to offer us alcohol at half past eight in the morning." Emily had to crush her enthusiasm.

"Alcohol? Pff, please. Barely!" Angie then thought of her times as a bartender at that nasty bar she had told Rossi about.

"2 ounces Champagne, 1/2 ounces lemon juice, 1 ounce gin, 2 dashes simple syrup." She added, hoping she was remembering it well.

"Oh yeah, practically water." Emily rolled her eyes, clearly being sarcastic.

"See? So, two French 75?" Angie smiled, acting dumb, just to see if it will work.

"Young lady, it's not happening, okay?" Emily stopped her.

"Ok. Uh, then just _one_ French 75?" It really would not hurt trying, yet one more time.

Emily shook her head, as if she was scolding Angie with that gesture.

The waitress walked to their table and Angie was not happy with her final drink order.

"Café Crème, s'il vous plait, Madame." She ordered for herself and Emily doubled that order.

They took their time to choose their pastry and, unfortunately, Angie's favorite cake was not being offered that day.

"It's okay. We'll always have next Monday morning. And the next one…" Emily stated and it felt good to say that.

Angie needed to hear that - a confirmation that someone was now willing to be there for her, in the long run.

"Paris-Brest for me, please." Angie added to her order, choosing a French dessert, made of choux pastry and a praline flavored cream.

"Gâteau Basque for me, thank you." Emily ordered as well.

"Oh, that sounds good!" Angie commented.

"You can have some of mine. I don't mind sharing." Emily informed her, but somehow she felt like Angie wanted more.

"Actually, can we also have a Gâteau St. Honoré as well?" Emily added and the waitress put that down on her piece of paper.

"A ring of caramel-coated cream puffs arranged on top of a puff pastry disc…" Angie said dreamily, trying to remember when was the last time she had eaten this delicacy.

"And a mix of Petit Fours, too." Emily added one more thing.

She had seen Angie eye those small pieces of pound cake, with different colored icings and flavors, the last time they had been there.

"Okay, would you like to move to a bigger table? Are you expecting two more people?" The waitress was now confused.

As soon as they had walked in, they had headed off to their favorite table - the small one, for just two people. And now they ended up ordering sweets for at least four people to share.

"Nope. It's just the two of us and we are fine this way." Emily's words would echo in Angie's mind for the longest time after she had said them.

_Just the two of them…and they were fine that way._

Angie looked out the window dreamily. That statement sure had a really nice ring to it.

"Thank you so much. I know this is expensive and I appreciate everything you've done for me. Really, I do." Angie whispered, somehow a bit shy to just come out and say something like that.

"I once told you there isn't anything in life I wouldn't do for you. And I intend on making good on that promise." Emily smiled and eventually so did Angie.

"Now back to that hot ass French boyfriend…" Angie changed topic, because it really wouldn't be her if she just dropped it, without giving Emily a hard time about this unknown man.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Emily said defensively.

"Whatever you call him, he better treat you right and make you happy. Otherwise I'm coming for him! And I can be quite scary!" Angie put her hands in fists dramatically.

"Well, you did manage to get a Bureau Section Chief fired, in your third week of the Academy. So, I guess, nobody shall mess with you." With one hand Emily swiftly unbuttoned the top button of her smart shirt. If not because of what Angie had told her earlier, then because it was quite hot inside the pastry shop.

"No, that was me playing dumb and getting my way. Trust me, you don't want to see Angela Hunter pissed off, like, for real." She said with a smirk.

"I really do, actually. I think she would be hilarious. I can already imagine her scratching a huge guy's face out with those perfect acrylic nails." Emily could not stop laughing.

"Oh, this reminds me – nail check?" Angie requested, placing her hands on the table expectantly.

Emily blushed.

"I said – nail check! And you better not have bit those off!"

Emily caved in and put her hands on top of Angie's.

"Wow, I can't believe you stayed true to your promise not to ruin the acrylics!" Angie was surprised to see how neat Emily's nails still looked, from over a week ago when they did them together, in New York.

"Like I said, I take my promises to you _very_ seriously." Emily retrieved her hands, making space for the two coffees that were now being served to their table.

"You two are so cute. You remind me of my daughter and her youngest daughter. They live in Chicago now, haven't seen them in a while." The elderly man had insisted on serving their coffee personally, since he was the one to have offered it to them. And he was just so sweet and genuine.

"She's actually my future boss." This time, Angie hurried to point out where their relationship stood.

She remembered how upset Emily had been after all the pretending in the hair salon in New York. And quite frankly, Angie wanted to avoid yet another heated emotional conversation with that woman.

"And thank you for the coffee, Sir. Very kind of you." Angie added before the man walked away.

"Angela…" Emily started, clearly intending on crushing her BAU dreams yet one more time.

"Shh." Angie said silently. "I get what I want and if it can't happen this year, I'll try again next year. And then the next one. And I will keep trying until the time is right and until I get what I've wanted since I was eight years old."

"But there was no BAU when you were eight years old…" Emily countered, but then, thinking of it, she realized something.

"Actually, yes there was. The BAU was established exactly then. How did you know about it?" Emily questioned.

"That's a conversation we will be having much later on, Emily." Angie bit her bottom lip.

"But-…"

"I'm not ready." Angie cut off Emily's attempt to snoop for information.

"All you need to know is that at eight years old I knew I was going to join the FBI when I grew up. And every single day after that, I've worked my ass off, to meet that goal. So, yeah, people can call me a nerd and an overachiever and they can certainly hate me for appearing to be so perfect at most subjects, but they don't know the endless nights I've spent, with books in my lap, falling asleep just to wake up in the middle of the night again and to continue reading about serial killers and whatnot. They don't know the tremendous amount of physical preparation I've had since I was a child. They don't know…well, everything else I've done, just to get here…" Angie trailed off, as if she was hinting at something less than pleasant.

"You don't have to be ashamed of anything you've ever done in life, okay? Let people judge. They better judge you for being nearly perfect, than for being a failure, am I right?" Emily's advice, as usual, was spot on.

"Yeah." Angie nodded, forcing a small smile on her lips. "They can also kiss my ass, quite frankly! It just really sucks that all of my efforts cannot be rewarded. And I know this sounds extremely stuck up and entitled of me, but I also know what I deserve and I know I deserve what I want. I made damn sure I deserved it. I never take anything for granted. But then, nothing in my life ever came easily, so I guess I'm just gonna have to suck it up and wait for the next round of the Academy."

"Woah, are you quitting on us now?" To Emily, that statement came out of nowhere.

"Honestly? I've been thinking about it. I loved it at first, but now that I feel like I have absolutely nothing to gain, I just don't think I should waste anyone's time and financial resources by being here." Angie shrugged.

She had been toying with the idea of leaving the Academy for a while now, but it wasn't until she finished her Mini week with Prentiss that this idea turned into an obsession.

"No. You can't leave. They will never let you back for the next run, if you leave. Come on, don't be stupid." Emily was in full on panic mode.

"What will you do? Where will you go? How will you provide for yourself?" She kept on asking.

"I can always go back to Europe. I have trusted people there, I can stay with them. And I also had a stable job, so I can always go back to it." Angie spoke, but she didn't sound too enthusiastic.

"No, you're not going back to _that_." Emily cringed, just at the thought of it, even if Angie had never mentioned what her job had been and how her life was, before the Academy.

"Well, sometimes in life we are faced with choices we don't fully like or approve of, but we have to make a decision anyway." Angie tried to sound mature with this, even if she just wanted to sit on the floor and throw the biggest hissy fit of all times, because of her obsession with the BAU.

"Are you serious about quitting the Academy?" Emily raised an eyebrow. She was really good at calling a bluff and somehow, with Angela, she was seeing no signs of that.

"Yes, I am." Angie confirmed.

"All because you can't get what you came here for?"

"All because right now the Bureau cannot offer me what I've worked so hard for, my entire life." Angie re-phrased Emily's words, but yes, pretty much it was the same thing.

"Please, promise me one thing? You won't make that decision for another week, okay? Let's talk about it next Monday, at breakfast. Give yourself some time to think it through." Emily pleaded, but mostly, what was on her mind and what remained unspoken was: _Please, give me another week to go around, begging everyone I know, to give you a chance, the chance I know you deserve!_

Angie shrugged again. She had been doing that a lot and to Emily that screamed insecurity.

"Please, don't leave…" Emily leaned over the table and her voice came off weak as she whispered to her.

"The last time I begged someone to not leave, this is exactly what they did." Angie said, a bit stand-offish.

"And I am sure they will regret that until the day they die. But, think about the way that made you feel. And think of the kind of person you are, Angela. Do you really want to cause someone the pain you've been caused?"

Damn it, Angie hated how good Emily was with her words. Usually, in social situations, it was always Angela who was the sweet-talker, the one with the silver tongue. But Emily Prentiss deserved a damn prize for that.

"Fine, I'll walk around the Campus aimlessly for one more week and pretend like I don't hate every second of it…" She finally caved in.

She had grown to hate the Academy, ever since she came back from New York, where she had been given a taste of what she wanted to do in life. What was the point of working hard, for something that would surely not be yours anyway? Angie was not a quitter, but she was also not a fool who would waste her time, chasing a dream that stood no chance.

"I'm sorry to hear you feel this way. I wanted you to have a fun experience at the Academy, meet friends, learn new things. But, at the same time, I know how it feels to be stuck between two worlds…unable to choose either one of them, because that choice would ultimately hurt people that you love. And yourself, as well. And no mater what you choose, it would never be the right choice and you will never get the peace of mind you were searching for. Stuck between two worlds, unable to choose the best of each world and create a new one, a third one, with everything and everyone you love, in it. Now, that really sucks."

Angie was looking down at the table as Emily spoke. She could relate to all of it. She understood Emily's pain perfectly.

Their sweet treats arrived and allowed for a change of mood at the table.

Those two had a way of starting a heated conversation and then dropping it and continuing with their day as if nothing had happened. It was not normal. People did not live that way. Nobody was able to be so emotional and vulnerable one second and then so calm and collected, the next. And yet, to Angie and Emily, it came natural, as if they were two equals, two of a kind.

"God, I love French pastry so damn much!" Angela exclaimed at some point, right after having silently destroyed every last bit of everything that Emily had ordered for them.

Emily just smiled, looking at Angela who seemed happy, relaxed, she seemed in her element.

"You still have all those macaroons in your bag…" Emily reminded her.

"Yup, I sure do! I will share them with Bry-Bry tonight, for our late night study session. I have to pretend like I'm only just starting to learn about whatever it is that we need to know for our training tomorrow." Angie could not help but roll her eyes.

"Are you not learning anything new at the Academy?"

"Well, I am. Actually, a lot of the stuff is new, especially the procedural stuff. The FBI sure likes to do things legally…" Angie rolled her eyes one more time.

"I'm afraid they do." Emily suppressed a smirk. She, much like Angie, had not been a fan of the legal restrictions when she had first joined the Bureau, years ago.

"Well, whatever. I just have to sit through one more week and then I'm done." Angie consoled herself, keeping in mind the promise she had made to Emily a few minutes ago.

_"__Not if I can do anything about it!"_ Emily thought to herself while keeping a cool and neutral look on the outside.

She pulled her credit card out of her wallet and waited for the waitress to bring them the bill. And that reminded her of something.

"Still tight with cash?" She asked casually.

"Yeah. But I really don't need it. I only use food coupons and then my coffee and sweets I steal from the Executive Lounge. God, Ben just loooves seeing me there." She chuckled.

"Ben's quite a fan of yours, if I shall say so." Emily pointed out.

She knew that at the beginning of this wild ride, Ben had nothing but reservations when it came to Angela. But, somewhere along the way, and maybe it was the day of the BAU Hearing, he had started to warm up to her.

"Would it be okay if I gave you some food coupons?" She suggested hesitantly, knowing that Angela was a girl who'd work hard for what she had, so she was expecting her to shoot her down instantly.

To her surprise, Angie just nodded. She had been tight with coupons lately. She often found herself choosing to skip on either lunch of dinner, so they would last her for longer.

"Alright, off to do some damage now. Are you with me?" Emily raised an eyebrow, wanting nothing more than to empty out her credit card at the Mall.

"_Always_ with you!" Angie stood up and seemed really excited. Apparently, she loved shopping.

After Emily paid their abundant breakfast, they walked out and headed to the floor where the more sophisticated brands were.

"Don't you even dare!" Angie scolded Emily, the second she saw her eyes checking out a nun-like two-piece smart suit.

"What? It's nice…" Emily shrugged, now doubting her life, her choices, her style and everything she had ever known.

"_You're_ not nice!" Angie's words perplexed Emily, until she elaborated on that statement.

"You're a Boss Lady. You kick ass, literally. You have a banging body and a hot French boyfriend. There is no way in Hell Emily Prentiss would settle for 'nice'. No! Eww!" Angie grabbed her hand and dragged her inside of the shop, opposite of the one Emily had eyed.

"Nothing but the best, for the best!" She continued speaking, now scanning all the items that interested her.

"This…and this…and oh my God, that! Wow!" Angie kept on choosing things and throwing them behind her back.

Emily had the reflexes to catch them, she wasn't worried about that. What her mind was busy analyzing instead was the fact that Angela was a walking compliment machine, a human-shaped confidence booster and Emily wanted her right by her side, now and later and the next day and then next week and then forever, possibly.

"Jesus, woah, that…unbuttoned…oh yumm!" Angie picked out a very daring shirt – looked smart, but could definitely be playful if not properly buttoned up.

"You also need a statement bra." She added.

"What on Earth is a 'statement bra'?" Emily finally spoke up. She had heard of statement jewelry, but never a bra.

"I'm not surprised you have no idea." Angie sighed. "French guys like a certain type of lingerie. Lots of lace happening. Yup. But there's always Victoria's Secret for it. It's on the second floor, we'll go after."

"No, that's a shop for teenagers…" Emily countered.

"And what type of body do you think you have, Emily?" Angie looked her up and down.

Emily did not look a day over twenty-five, if one had to only judge her body. She was flawless, for someone her age.

"Come on. It's 'Try On' time!" Angie urged her, picking out the last changing room down the hall, not surprisingly, the most secluded place of all. She had a thing for hiding, for having her own space, away from everyone else, and Emily had definitely noticed that, a while ago.

When Emily walked out, wearing the first outfit, Angie clapped her hands approvingly.

"Exquis, madame! Incroyable!" She complimented her in French.

"Well, this was the most conservative one…" Emily muttered to herself, afraid of how she might look with the other outfits on.

Second showcase was a dress in dark green color. Emily was not a fan of green, typically, but this dress made her appreciate it. And it fit her perfectly.

"Okay, someone call the Fire Department!" Angie called out before she started chuckling.

"On fire, Emily! On-freaking-fire!" She added, clapping her hands contently and also quite loudly.

Emily rolled her eyes. Angie was like her own cheerleader – always there to make her feel good about herself. She only wished that this 'always' could last 'forever'.

"Okay, no. And I refuse to even let you see me in this! No, no and no. Just no! Okay?" Emily shook her head, scandalized as she was later checking herself out in the huge mirror inside the changing room, now wearing the next clothing item.

Unluckily for her, the changing room had curtains, not a door, so Angie's head poked through the curtains in two seconds. Like Hell, she wouldn't miss out getting to see Emily rock her favorite look, of all three.

"Daaaaaaamn!" Angie gasped.

"NO!" Emily kept on shaking her head. Was it denial or was it refusal?

"Yes! Like, Hell yes! Yes!" Angie smiled, now completely invading Emily's private space in the changing room and taking a good look from all sides. It wasn't like Emily was naked, so it was okay.

"Stop with the buttons!" She frowned, forcing Emily to unbutton the top one right after she had buttoned it up. And then she gave her an icy cold stare until Emily unbuttoned the second one, too. Then the stare continued.

"No, okay? Two is middle grounds! It's compromise enough. Shut up and be happy with it, okay? I'm not budging!" Emily stated, but she was kind of intrigued to see herself in a little more…daring light.

"Fine, as long as that third one pops open when you're with Frenchie!" Angie licked her bottom lip and received a slap on the shoulder for it.

"Oh, keep ignoring it. I'll keep dropping the bomb. You know I will!" She knew that Emily was not keen on talking about it and truthfully, it was none of Angela's business. But she also knew she'd tease the crap out of this woman until she'd share something. Anything.

"Oh, I know you will." Emily sighed, fixing her hair with one hand. She really did like what she saw in that mirror, as inappropriate as it might be for work.

"Ok, that's a 'Yes' to all three outfits and that's a 'Great Job, Angela!' for your personal stylist for the day. Why, thank you very much, Madam!" Angie, as usual, dramatized the situation and acted like a Diva stylist. She loved being a character and Emily let her have it her way.

Reaching the cashiers, Angie was surprised to meet no resistance on Emily's side. She had quietly purchased all three outfits, even the daring last one, without trying to make Angie's life miserable. Did Emily Prentiss like them, like…really _really_ like them? Angie felt so proud.

"Ok, next!" Angie scanned for more cool shops around them, but it was now Emily's turn to grab her hand and walk her to a place she liked.

"No offense, but this really is teenager stuff…" Angie looked around the shop that Emily had chosen. It had amazing things, but a little more colorful than what a Unit Chief can pull off.

Emily just gave Angela a look.

A whole long minute later, Angie got it.

"Who? Me? That? Oh, no!" She was scandalized.

Emily was now choosing the shortest dresses, handing them to Angie, who was about to protest some more before she laid her hands on a beautiful sequin dress that she had absolutely no place or formal excuse to wear, but she really wanted to own it anyway.

"Ugh, fiiiiine!" She said, sounding much like a teenager.

She did not mind having to try those dresses.

At all.

"Yeah…no." Emily cringed when Angela walked out with the first dress on.

"You chose it!" Angie frowned.

"You are way too tall for this mini dress. I guess I didn't count your height in. Turn around…" Emily asked and then her worst fears were confirmed.

"Nope. No way!" She kept on cringing.

"Well, it fits me well and I like the color…" Angie teased. The truth was, she thought she looked like a hooker, in that thing.

"I could see your butt if you lean just an inch more. So, no!" Emily stated, and it sounded final.

Angie then took the dress off with pleasure. She really was not a fan of it either. And yes, it was way too short on her.

When she walked out with the second option, Emily was a little more inclined on giving it a chance.

Angie made a little twirl, as the dress was flowy on the bottom. Very princess-like. It was pastel pink, with some subtle cream decorations on it.

"You look fourteen again." Emily smiled, her eyes looked dreamy, full of life.

"I _feel_ fourteen again." Angie smiled back, a little more reserved.

"I swear to God, you sometimes also _act_ like you're fourteen." Emily then laughed.

"Mind you, I was an angel when I was fourteen!" Angie's sweet innocent puppy eyes came out to play.

"Mhm, I bet…" Emily could not be fooled. This girl had surely never been an angel. And she was perfect, just the way she was, in all of her sweet devilish ways.

Angie allowed herself another minute or two, to enjoy this dress, before she tried on the third and last option she had.

"Okay, you look like a Hollywood Diva!" Emily's jaw dropped when she saw her.

Angie looked flawless. Her hair was a mess after training, she barely had anything on her face, other than waterproof mascara and some lipstick, and yet she looked like she was rolling down a red carpet event. She looked stunning, even barefoot, with this glittery dress. It was so over the top, so pretentious, so insanely sparkly and eye-catching and yet, so perfect for her.

"Can you take a photo of me and send it to Bryan, please?" Angie asked.

"Sure. But the next shop we're going to is where you'll walk out, holding a phone of your own and there will be no objections." Emily said while snapping a photo.

"I don't need a phon-…"

"No objections!" Emily repeated and let Angie text Bryan from her phone.

Bryan did not reply. Unlike Angie, who was living her best life, he was living his worst nightmare at PFT that morning. It was more than intense and he was kind of glad that Angela was not there, because he knew she would have pushed herself way too hard to impress the trainer and she would have drained all of her energy during training.

"Actually…" Emily then had a better idea.

"Garcia, hi." She said after dialing a number. "Do we still have that Bureau phone in plus? I want to give that to Angela. Would that be alright?"

Emily kept on nodding while listening to Garcia's answer.

"Perfect. Thank you. I will see all of you, guys, at ten today. Or half past ten. Yeah." She said before she hung up.

"Garcia says hi and she insists that I drag you back to the BAU." Emily referred to Angie.

"Oh, I wouldn't need to be dragged if I'm already willing to run there myself." Angie smirked. It used to be weird to admit her Bureau goals, but with Emily, it felt comfortable. It felt…right.

"Ok take that off. It's hurting my eyes." Emily laughed at Angela who looked like a ray of sunshine under the bright lights in the changing room, wearing all that glitter.

"This is exactly what I'd picture myself wearing for Graduation." She commented silently, unable to take her eyes off her own reflection, in the mirror.

"So, you still want to have that Graduation, huh?" Emily smirked. Just minutes ago this girl had told her she was ready to drop the Academy.

"It's all I've dreamed of since I was eight. You don't understand. I don't just _want_ to graduate. I _need_ to! I _have t_o! I _must_ do right by them…"

"Them?" Emily interrupted her. So far she thought Angela was doing this for herself, but her words now painted a different picture.

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?" Angie shrugged and disappeared inside the changing room before the mood would shift back to negative.

"No problem." Emily whispered back.

A minute later Angie walked out, with the three dresses hanging on their respectful hangers, as she was about to leave them at the counter.

"Oh, no. We're buying those." Emily stated. "Not the first one, though." She was quick to add.

"I don't need dresses. I already have the white one and the two other ones you bought me last time. My life is not the kind of life that requires me to dress like that." Angie frowned.

"I don't care what you say. I'm buying you those dresses whether you need them or not." Sometimes there was no arguing with Emily, so Angie let her pay for them. She was glad to find out that they were not too expensive. That made her feel so much better.

As they walked around the Mall, Emily tried to block a certain shop out of Angie's eyesight.

"Oh yey!" Angie said contently, having spotted it anyway.

"Oh, God…here we go…" Emily then found herself having to make a small run after the girl who was already inside that lingerie store.

"That looks about your size…" Angie tossed a very odd combination of lace and fabric, to Emily. The tag on it said it was a bra, but one would have a very hard time figuring out all the straps, in order for it to look like one, when put on.

"This is huge!" Emily raised an eyebrow.

Angie pursed her lips, trying to refrain from telling Emily that she was not exactly flat-chested.

"Point taken." Emily gave up and tried to hold the item in a very discrete way, feeling a bit self-conscious to be seen at _that_ shop, holding _that_ item.

"And he'd also enjoy this…" Angie picked out a different one. This one was more traditional looking, if one wouldn't pay much attention to its devilish red color and the little black hearts that were placed at a very specific height, at the front.

"Angela…" Emily tried to sound scolding, but she cracked up laughing anyway.

"Are you kidding me!?" Angie's jaw dropped when she reached the section of newly arrived items. They had a wide selection of flag-themed two pieces. She saw Brazil, Italy, Spain, UK…and then she saw _the one_…

"C'est tellement beau!" She squealed, picking out the French flagged two-piece underwear, in Emily's size.

"Why am I being punished right now!?" Emily tilted her head upwards, having a full on conversation with God now.

"Front closure? We likey-likey!" Angie teased. She loved seeing Emily feel so uncomfortable.

"Well, it's handy, that's as much as I'm willing to comment on that…" Emily smirked.

If she was forced to go through this nerve-wracking experience with Angela, at least she could loosen up and allow herself to enjoy it. Why the Hell not?

"Mhm. He'll love it! I mean, come on…" Her hand trailed against the French flag on the top piece. It was a bralette-style top, naturally, with lots of lace.

"God, please tell me the changing rooms have doors…with keys…that actually work!?" Emily kept on praying, on her way to try these options out.

It was one thing to let Angela see her fully dressed earlier, but these items would barely be covering anything, so she'd rather have some privacy. Unless it was Richard, who wanted to see them. She smiled, remembering their week in France and how awfully patient he had been with her, during all of the shopping she did. And that little moment they shared in the bathing suit shop's changing room…

"I bet you're thinking about him!" Angie called out.

Apparently, even sitting outside of a changing room that did end up having a door with a key, she was still perfectly able to be a pain in Emily's existence.

She took Emily's silence as a form of admitting defeat.

"Send him a photo!" Angie continued.

"Jesus, no!" Emily finally spoke up.

"Come on. Why not? He'd love it. French guys love photos of girls in lingerie…"

"If you don't stop saying things like that, I'm assigning a protective detail to follow you around 24/7, for the rest of your life!" Emily was cringing so hard. Angie always hinted to inappropriate things.

"Oooh, can he be French?" Angie laughed. "A tough, big French guy, with muscles…and oh mon Dieu, a gun. Maybe some handcuffs, too. Yes, please!"

Emily was triggered. Not that she'd admit it, but Angela had just described everything that Emily could possibly ever find attractive in a man. And up to some extent, she had also described Richard, too.

And then Angie heard it – the sound that left no doubt as to what Emily was doing inside the changing room.

"Crap!" Emily could not believe she was the idiot who forgot to switch the sound off first.

"Did you just snap a photo!?" Angie banged her hands against the door.

"Uh…no…" Emily laughed at herself, quietly. Yes, she was an idiot.

"In the French two piece?" Angie continued with the questions.

"Yeah…" Emily said hesitantly.

"Oh, boy…"

"Zip it!"

"I'm just saying…"

"Angela, zip it right this second! Just…shut up!"

She did not dare utter another word. She did, however, keep a smug smirk on her face, long after Emily had exited the changing room. She also did not dare ask if Emily would be buying any of the items – she already knew Emily Prentiss to be prude enough to discard all three options.

"Would you be purchasing any of the items, Miss?" The changing room clerk asked Emily before she could walk out of the area.

Emily put the first option on the counter, but held options two and three in her hands.

"Not the right fit?" The clerk asked with a smile, putting the one item away.

"Too tight." Emily admitted, noticing how Angie's smirk grew even wider after she heard it.

_"__It's huge, Angela. It's huge!"_ Angie teased, throwing Emily's words back at her, in a dramatic tone, with air quotes as she spoke.

"Okay, fine. You heard it – the damn thing was way too tight. And it would take me an hour to put it on. Too much hassle. Ugh!" Emily groaned.

"Wouldn't it be worth it when it takes him just mere seconds to take it off?" Angie did the damn thing again, licking her lips.

"Stop it. Jesus Christ, girl! You are something else!" Emily felt her cheeks blushing. It was weird enough that she had to admit that she liked two out of three options, at _that_ store, but now she had to listen to her very own cheerleader yapping about it all day long? No, thank you.

"What's his name?" Angie asked, walking by Emily's side, now both of them holding bags.

Emily had the bag with the clothes and a bag with the underwear, while Angie only had a smaller bag with her two new dresses.

"Frenchie is good. Let's call him Frenchie, shall we?" Emily suggested, remembering what Angie had called him earlier.

"So, no French Papi?" Angie frowned. "Oh, I have a good one – how about French-…"

Emily put her hand on Angela's mouth before her poor heart would have to suffer after hearing whatever it was that the girl was about to say.

"Frenchie is good!" Emily reinforced.

"Why don't you want to talk about him?" Screw acting like a fourteen year old. Emily was now sure she was walking with a very curious five year old child by her side. A child with a very messed up, inappropriate mind and a filthy mouth, at that.

She did not reply.

"Are you afraid that by admitting it out loud, it would somehow mess things up?"

Oh, Angie's words hit the right spot.

Emily found a quiet corner and sat down for a second.

"If that's the case – I get it." Angie sat down beside her.

"Many times I've felt like if I let myself believe something was real and, especially if I say it out loud to other people, then it would somehow…I dunno…disappear. And I know it sounds really stupid. It makes no sense. But that's how I sometimes feel about things…and people. And I can't help it." Angie spoke with a soft, comforting smile.

Emily was looking at her, the entire time.

"So, yeah, if that's how you feel and if you find that to be weird, just know that you're not alone. To a lot of people this would be ridiculous, but to others – like me for example, it sounds normal. I get it. I've been through it. I'm actually going through it right now." Angie fiddled with her bag, suddenly avoiding eye contact.

"How so?" Emily asked.

"You're the profiler. You tell me." Of course she'd challenge Emily. She'd be crazy to give her a straightforward answer. She never had.

"Well, I think there might be something, or someone, that you really want. And after what you just said to me, I feel like you're afraid to speak up because you think that the second you say it, it would disappear. Almost like it's a fantasy you're living in and you feel like words would only ruin the whole experience for you." It was now Emily's turn to hit the right spot with her words.

"I just don't want to ruin it, you know?" Angie's voice came out weak.

"Oh, sweetheart, I do know. Trust me. I know. I've just been through it, myself. And you know what? That person you're teasing me about so mercilessly…well, I found the courage to not only let _myself_ know that I wanted him, but to also let _him_ know it, too. And guess what? I was prepared for it to crash and burn, like everything else in my life, because Emily Prentiss never gets what she wants. Ever!" She sighed. It was, sadly, true. "But guess what? I somehow forced myself to say it out loud, to be honest. And it turns out, I did the right thing. It was the right choice, at the right time, and it gave me the right outcome. So yeah, sometimes it's okay to play Russian roulette with those feelings we are having. Sometimes it's okay to let other people in. Sometimes it's okay to admit what we want. We might as well end up receiving it, in the end."

"So, you're happy now?" Angie lifted her head up, only glancing at Emily briefly.

"Almost." Emily's words confused Angie. Wasn't she just raving about her new French boyfriend or was Angela hearing things?

"Let's just say I'll only be completely happy the day you decide to be honest with yourself, with me and with everyone else. And yes, I know this is none of my business, but I just cannot stand seeing you like this, with that forced little smile, hating every second of the Academy, tearing yourself apart because you know it is impossible to be part of my team…"

Emily's hand was quick to grab Angie's chin as Angie looked down to the floor.

"Look at me, Angela Hunter." Emily pleaded. "I believe it is time for you to have the courage to be brave enough to admit to certain things."

"I don't want to ruin it all…" Angie hated that her chin was quivering, Emily would have definitely felt that as her hand was still on it.

"Ruin what? You are living in a fantasy and yes, it is nice and all, but it is hurting you and I can see it." Emily saw Angie try to open her mouth, but she continued speaking before the girl would say a word.

"I know it. I've _been_ you, Angela. I've been Lauren and I've been Catherine and I've been Jennifer, Melissa, Joanne, Penny, Samantha…" Emily rolled her eyes. Those names barely touched base with everyone she had ever had to pretend to be, in her lifetime.

"And I've lived a fairytale too. A fake life. Each time, starting not from birth, but from the push of a Reset button. And it was awesome, in the beginning. Each time I was a different person, I got to do different things, act different ways. Yeah, until one day I started questioning who I really was? Was I still Emily or was I a big mesh of all of those other women? Why did I enjoy doing the things they were enjoying? Why did lies and manipulation come so easy for me? Until that one day, something happened and I could not help but like who I was. I started a new fairytale, one that screwed me up in ways you wouldn't even imagine. I was someone else and I loved everything about her. It was either that, or die. And I chose life, so I chose to believe that I liked the new me. I chose to forget the old me and to build a life as _her_, instead. I chose to force myself to fall…uh, for a man who…I uh…"

Angie could tell this was hard for Emily to discuss. She could also tell she had never really spoken those words out loud before. So she did not dare interrupt.

"A man who ruined my life. A man who killed me, twice. But it wasn't _him_ who killed me, it was what happened _after_ him. It was what having him in my life had done to me…and what it made me do, to other people…innocent people…people that I truly loved…and people that I will love until the last breath I take."

Angie held out her hand and held Emily's. Usually, they'd both contribute to their emotional exchanges, but this time Emily had to be the only one talking. She needed to get that off her chest.

"You know, I've never told anyone about certain things…exactly because of that…because I felt like, if I spoke up, it would ruin the fantasy I was living in. Like, somehow it wouldn't be true anymore. So yeah, I understand why you are so terrified to say it, because I am, too. It would change things. It would change _everything_…"

Emily gave herself a second, to get a hold of her breathing.

"But trust me, living in denial and living in a fantasy is not living at all. It's a nightmare. Because, at some point, you'll wake up and ask yourself: am I _me_? Or am I _her_?" Emily now needed water, desperately. She felt like she was going to pass out.

"They used to call me Lauren. I used to call myself Lauren for a while after that fiasco was over. You know why?" She gulped, her throat was dry. "Because, through all the horrible things Lauren had to do, she also created something beautiful, something she was proud of, something that Emily Prentiss could only dream of having in her life."

"Are you saying you _want_ it in your life?" Angie raised an eyebrow, finally speaking up.

"I am. Yes. I, Emily Prentiss, am telling you, Angela Hunter, that I want to have what Lauren Reynolds once had."

Angie nodded and remained quiet, just thinking about this woman's words.

"I'm not ready…" Angie whispered quietly.

"We are never ready, my dear." Emily smiled brightly, it was a cute gesture. "I'm certainly not ready to be falling in love with a man who lives across the Globe. But it happened. And we'll see how that goes. But none of it would have been possible, had I not opened up and said it out loud."

"I'm not ready…" Angie repeated, looking sad and upset.

At this point, Emily knew that it wasn't like Angela was not ready to face her inner daemons. She was _scared_ to do so.

"Whenever you're ready…" Emily gave her a warm hug and sighed with relief when Angela didn't hesitate to wrap her hands around her.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"rmpcmfan"** Emily is diving right into this relationship, trusting her gut and trusting her heart, for once. Do we hope she wont get burnt? Yes, we do. Lol! Yes, she wants to take it slow, so she wouldn't burn out this relationship, like any other she had ever been into. She's terrified of being intimate with him right away, or of taking steps that are too big, which is why she only hopped continents to have this talk and she needed to be back home right away. She needs to fully comprehend what is going on, now that she learned he also wants to be in this relationship. This, however, does not mean she is afraid to give it a try! On the contrary - it scares her and it is unconventional, but she is in with her whole heart. She is NOT looking for games and mystery. She wants this to be real, whatever that means, since she's spent her life hating 'love' and 'relationships'. But she is done playing games - this much I can assure you of :)! You'll read a lot about her inner thoughts in the next chapters and you'll understand her 'fear' when it comes to a relationship. But she is willing to do the work, so to get the reward :)! Also YES, there might be some future chapter/s rated M, lol. As for waiting to learn the truth - it wouldn't be fun if drama didn't occur, right? :P She will wait just long enough and then BOOM...things will happen. You just wait for it, okay? :D

**"sweetkid45"** Richard's job is 'connected to' crime. But it may not be the way you think. There is a lot behind his character and both Emily and the readers will learn about him later on. However, Emily has a feeling he's a good guy, so for now this is enough for her and she trusts her heart. Will that bring her pain? I dunno...we shall see ;)! Oh Angie's wild 'BAU roller-coaster ride' is just beginning, lol!


	113. To Love, Because It Sucks

** CHAPTER 113**

_**TO LOVE, BECAUSE IT SUCKS**_

"Good morning, team." Emily smiled, walking in the bullpen at fifteen past ten, that same Monday morning.

It felt like a whole day had just gone by, with the early morning she had, training with Angela.

"Hey, Prentiss, how was your weekend?" Luke teased her with a knowing smirk.

Emily Prentiss never took days off and yet, she had taken Friday off, to make it a long weekend.

And coming back with that smile on her face could only point to one thing.

"Forget the weekend…" Tara walked over to Emily and eyed her up and down. "Girl, where did you get that dress? And that body!?"

Emily chuckled. She had put on the green dress that she bought earlier, heavily influenced by Angela's constant yapping about how hot it made her look.

JJ was in her office until she heard a commotion, coming from the bullpen. Her eyes scanned everything and saw everyone ganged up on Emily, asking her questions, while Emily looked like a snack. A happy, healthy snack.

"Oh my God…she did it!" JJ squealed to herself, hoping that Emily had finally done it – she must have called her mysterious French man.

"Not now, JJ." Emily said knowingly, the second JJ walked over to her with a very bright and curious smile on her face.

"Oh, surely not now and not here. Come on, do you know me at all?" JJ smirked, keeping her voice down. "I want the exclusive and none of those freaks deserve it more than I do. So, I shall wait until you and I are alone…with a few bottles of wine, because tonight, Emily Prentiss, is the night you go back to your wine routine and there isn't anything you can say against it."

"JJ, I've already started drinking again." Emily informed her.

She had been having a glass of wine, on occasion. Enough time had passed and she was no longer afraid of any side effects from Garcia's stunt from weeks ago.

"Not like you'll be drinking tonight. Mark my words. It's you and me and the wine and all the wonderful dirty details you're willing to share, baby!" JJ smirked and her words confused everyone around them, as they only overheard snippets of her statement.

"Fine just shut up now, okay?" Emily rolled her eyes and busied herself with documents, preparing for the morning meet up with the whole team.

* * *

"Trainee Hunter, a word?" Dan said sternly when Angie walked in the auditorium, for her morning theoretical class.

The class was just starting, so Dan grabbed Angie and they walked out to the hallway, to have a private conversation.

Bryan realized how serious it must be, if Dan removed her from an activity.

"Care to explain?"

"I never explain anything!" Angie held her head up high, speaking in a cheeky manner, almost as if she was acting.

"I took my daughter to see Mary Poppins about a dozen times just recently. You can't 'wow' me with a Mary Poppins quote, girl. You better start explaining yourself." Dan called her out.

"On the side, is Mary Poppins on in the theaters right now!?" Her eyes popped out. This was one of her favorite musicals.

"And, for the record, I was training on my own." She added nonchalantly.

"Hunter, you can't afford to slack now!" Dan whispered.

"Why? Are you going to cut me from the Academy? Woooh." She faked being scared, in the most annoying way she possibly could.

"I'm not joking. Your whole career depends on this. On these few days. On this week. Come on, don't be stupid." Dan continued, still whispering.

"What career? Oh, the one I keep hearing that I cannot have?" Angie crossed her hands in front of her chest.

"Angela…just shut up and trust me – you need to be on your best behavior this week. Please?" Dan was withholding a crucial piece of information from her and she had no idea.

He had spoken to Ben, who in turn had told him about Emily's wonderful request to go see the Director. Emily had never said it out loud – the reason for this meeting, but they both knew, deep down inside.

"Why? What's so special about this week? Jesus, why is everyone acting like this week will change anything for me?"

"Because it could!" He sighed, unable to say anything more on the topic.

"Fine. I've already given my word to be on my best behavior for a few more days, but then I'm out of here."

"You're quitting the Academy? Are you insane?"

"No. I'm driven. And able. And so incredibly determined. I'd be insane if I wasted another day in here." She felt bold enough to tell him about her plans to end her stay at the Academy. It really didn't matter anymore, whether she told people or not. She did not feel like _anything_ could make her change her mind.

"Angela, I am begging you – keep on busting your ass and giving us results, at least until Friday. Please? Trust me, I'm your Mentor, I'm looking out for you, kid."

"You also drugged me until I ended up in a hospital…"

"Would you ever let this go?" Dan sighed, he knew this had been a dick move on his side, even if the outcome had been a surprise for everyone. Nobody meant to hurt her.

"I did. I don't care what you and your little recruits did to me. I'm so done with the Academy and with the Bureau. I really don't care anymore. Honestly. I just want to get the Hell out of here and go find myself a job I deserve."

"Listen, kid…" Angela found herself being forced to look at someone's eyes for the second time that day. Dan put his hand on her chin and forced her to level with him.

"You won't ever find a job you deserve, more than the job you want here, with us. Okay? And you're not the only one busting your ass, for it to become possible. So, sit tight, shut up, put a damn smile on that pretty face of yours, chin up and go kick ass in every single class, okay? Five days, that's all we need from you…five more days. Can you do that?"

"I can, but certainly not for _you_." Angie rolled her eyes. She had already promised another week, to Emily Prentiss.

"Get back in there and go be the nerd that we all know and love!" Dan gave her a tiny push towards the door and she entered the Auditorium once more.

"How much trouble are you in?" Bryan whispered when she sat next to him.

"Ask me on Friday." She sighed and, much like she had told Emily earlier, she pretended like this was the first time she was hearing about whatever that lecture was on.

* * *

"So?" JJ barged in Emily's apartment, that same evening.

She hardly waited for Emily to open the door, as she made her way to the couch, plopping on it after placing an oversized shopping bag on the table.

"Jesus, at least have the decency to wait until I'm drunk!" Emily laughed.

"Oh, wow, I _will_ be drunk tonight…" She added after opening the bag that JJ brought in with her. It was full of wine bottles, the expensive, good wine that they were both crazy for.

Emily made small talk while they sipped on their first couple of glasses, in the dark, with just candle light illuminating the living room, to set the mood for a romantic emotional talk.

"So…?" JJ tried prying once again.

"Ugh…" Emily sat up straight, trying to look somewhat presentable and sane, because what she was about to share with JJ would paint her as a crazy person, for sure.

"So, yeah. I went to speak with him." Emily shrugged nonchalantly.

She knew this was a huge deal, a gigantic step, but she decided that if she acted calm about it, then maybe…just maybe, JJ would freak out a little quieter than usual. It was getting late and her neighbors must already be asleep. She really didn't need another noise complaint against her.

"Wait. Went? Went where?" JJ was confused and it wasn't because of the alcohol. Yet.

"Well, you _do_ know he lives in Paris, right?" Emily pointed out innocently.

"Emily Prentiss!" JJ choked on the sip she was just taking from her wine glass. "You went across the Globe? For a man?"

She also most certainly did raise her voice quite a bit over what was socially acceptable at that hour.

"Sure did…" Emily smiled.

Yes, this really did paint her like a crazy person.

"What did you say? What did _he_ say?" JJ was on the edge of the sofa, fanning her face with a napkin, so she wouldn't pass out.

"I honestly don't remember half of what I said. I had the perfect speech and then I opened my mouth and something completely different came out. I guess I was just honest about what I felt and I don't know…I guess it kind of worked. We'll see."

"About what you _felt_? So now, you _feel_ stuff for him? Oh my God, pass me the wine, pass me the damn wine, Emily Prentiss!" JJ extended her hand, eagerly grabbing the bottle from Emily's hands and pouring herself some more liquid courage.

"I don't know, okay? That's the point. I've never felt this way and it's confusing, but at the same time, I don't mind being confused. I tried hating him and blaming him for leaving, but something made me realize that I was being two-faced." Emily pursed her lips. It wasn't _something_ that made her realize it. It was _someone_. It was Angela.

"So, you just magically appeared in Paris and found him and told him you love him? Oh God, this is like a movie. Emily Prentiss, your life is a movie. Oh, this is so wonderful!" JJ squealed, making Emily wonder if she may have downed one more glass of wine while Emily had left her on her own, for two minutes while she had gone to the bathroom just earlier. And yes, JJ had done just that.

"Oh woah, girl. No. Nobody is saying the 'L' word. Not him, certainly not me. Not now and not anytime soon." Emily waved her hands in the air frantically.

"Well, you are head over heels for him. I can tell. You came back, smiling like an idiot all day long. You even let Luke tease you a bit more than what he usually does. You complimented Garcia five times, for the same outfit she has been wearing all day. And you offered everyone coffee and sweets, which, okay, it's something you always do, but it just adds up on your level of 'nice' today, so it was worth the mention." JJ smiled wide.

"Ahh, I guess I'm feeling pretty good today, yeah, I can't deny that. As for what happened in Paris – I knew where to find him, or really – how to lure him there. I tried not to hold anything back when I spoke and it turns out he was okay with my terms and we are, indeed, giving this a try."

"What terms? Jesus, poor man…You barely even started dating and you already have terms?" JJ raised an eyebrow. Trust Emily Prentiss to ruin a relationship from the get-go.

"Yes, I had one term and one request. He agreed to both." Emily took a sip of wine.

She didn't want to tell JJ that her terms were that the team would always come first and that her request had been to not know the truth about him just yet. If a spontaneous trip to Paris didn't make her sound completely insane, _that_ sure did.

"And we're not dating. We're…giving this a chance. Whatever that means. I'm not sure." She added, realizing how confused she really was.

"How is that gonna work?" Drunk JJ did not hold back how suspicious she was over this little arrangement.

"I have no idea. I really don't know. But I'm willing to find out and I hope it does, I mean, I hope it works out…despite my gut feeling…" Emily looked down at the floor.

Through all of her happiness, there was still this annoying fact that she knew nothing about him. And yes, she had begged him not to tell her anything, but it was killing her to not know it all. What if the truth changed things? What if she let herself get too invested? What if she would really fall in love with him and then everything would blow up in her face? It sure had in the past – Ian Doyle was the perfect example.

"Give me that bottle!" Emily was now the one to grab it from JJ's hands and to pour herself some more. She needed that. All of a sudden, she needed alcohol.

"To love, because it sucks!" JJ decided to make a spontaneous drunk toast.

"Hahaha, to love, because it sucks!" Emily laughed and clinked glasses with her best friend.

It really did suck. Not the 'love' itself, but the fact that it was so damn complicated and it required so much work and patience. Sacrifices, even. It sucked so much. The thing that sucked the most was the fact that Emily was willing to go through all the sucky phases of it, to experience it all, and she could not think of a better person to go through it all with, other than Richard, whoever the Hell he might really be.

* * *

"Est-ce que tu vas bien?" Victor asked a dumb question.

Sitting on the side of a bed, next to Richard, he was perfectly able to see that he was _not_ okay.

"Doing just great, buddy." Richard said sarcastically, trying to move his left hand without feeling any further pain. He failed at it. It hurt. Everything hurt.

"I told you it was risky." Victor frowned, bringing the water bottle closer to Richard, sensing that he was going for that when his hand tried to reach out.

"Everything about us and our lives is risky. What's your point?" Richard groaned.

"I thought you had a plan…" Victor almost whispered.

"I did have a plan. And then things did not go as planned." Richard admitted, because he was man enough to admit defeat. "Hey, at least we got Marie back alive."

"Yeah, I can't believe she had been forced to do all this. And Simon, poor Simon, we had no idea what was going on at the time…" Victor looked down, feeling guilty.

Their two colleagues had been forced to do something that had gotten Simon killed and Marie injured severely. She had barely made it out alive.

"You realize we first lost the drugs and now we willingly handed them illegal guns, too, right?" Victor questioned.

They were in tons of trouble.

"Yeah, I know. I bet my inbox is full of angry e-mails right about now. But I don't regret a thing. We got Marie back, alive. We'll get the drugs and the guns back, too. We just need a new plan."

"Hate to break it to you, but you might not get another chance at this. You might not be the leader anymore, not after this." Victor kept it real.

The previous night had blown up in their faces. Richard's plan had been solid and it had worked, until the moment it did not work anymore. Richard had faced a difficult decision – keeping the guns safe, in his possession, or keeping Marie alive. Had he chosen the guns, one of them was being pointed at Marie's forehead and waiting to be tested out. Had he chosen Marie's life, which he ultimately did, even after she had seemingly failed him weeks ago, he would then be losing the guns.

"A human life is worth so much more than my damned title." Richard said weakly.

Victor could hear the pain in his voice – both physical and emotional.

"But, at that point, you didn't even know what had really happened. Marie only told you that _afterwards_, in the ambulance, on the way here…" Victor looked around the empty, white hospital room.

"Yes, verbally she told me in the ambulance. Although, I was way too out of it to remember what she said to me. But…last night, when I got there and I saw her…Victor, she was alive and she was happy to see me. I saw it in her eyes, I knew that she was not a traitor. She didn't need to speak. I could read her. She's one of my own. She's been with me for years. I know Marie. I never fully let myself believe she'd actually screw me over with the drugs. And seeing her weak, all beaten up last night, I knew that I'd put her life above anything and everything."

"That's why you're the boss. You have a heart of gold, Richard. No matter the ugly things we have to do on a daily basis, you always see the human side of people. You always believe the best in everyone." Victor smiled.

It hurt him to realize that now that Richard needed support, even though he was such an amazing person, the only one who showed up for him was Victor, himself.

"I've always known this, but it didn't really hit me until I saw how you were with Annabelle…" Victor continued.

"Amélie!" Richard corrected him.

"Yeah, _her_." Victor laughed.

"Annie really brought the best in you, back in the days." Victor added.

"Amy!" Richard corrected.

"Whatever you wanna call her. You know exactly who I'm talking about." Victor sighed. He was talking about the most sugar-high and annoying person he'd ever met, but also, the most addictive, senseless and full of life person, too.

"I miss her, you know?" Richard held his phone up and went through some old photos.

"Ha, that smile of hers! She always knew how to make people around her smile." Victor commented, as the person they were discussing was smiling in every single photo.

"She was a force to be reckoned with." Richard added with a smirk.

"I wonder who she got that from." Victor nudged him playfully, like he always did. However, this time he realized it caused Richard pain. He was already all broken, swollen and beaten up.

"I think she got it from her mother, really." Richard said dreamily, keeping his eyes fixated on the girl who was still smiling at him, from the screen of his phone.

Last time he had been reminiscing about someone he saw on his phone screen, he ended up in a relationship with that person. It had happened just a day ago, with Emily.

Maybe this time, with Annabelle, or Amélie as he had once called her, it would turn out just fine, as well.

* * *

"Holy crap! I was about to take your ass out!" A young blonde shouted at someone who had startled her, waiting for her at the porch of her house, way after midnight.

"You couldn't have reached for that gun any slower. You know, for the record." The stalker said with a smirk.

"What are you doing here? Actually, scratch that. How do you even know where I live?" The blonde woman asked.

"Let's not dwell on my amazing stalking techniques, okay? They will only make you jealous."

"I'm a Federal Agent! You can't just sneak up on me like this! Jesus!"

"So am I. Well, not officially, but you know how it feels…" The imposter shrugged this time.

"I do. I was literally in your shoes just last year."

"Technically, you would have been in my _uniform_, not my shoes. But I'll let that one slide."

"If you wanted to see me, all you had to do was ask. I would have picked up some food and, you know, invited you over, like a normal guest."

"No need." The imposter checked what time it was and their eyes drifted towards a motorbike that was just coming up the street.

A man hopped off it, after parking right in front of the blonde's house, handing them two large pizzas and a bunch of fizzy drinks, with a large portion of fries to share.

"So, you knew exactly what time I'd be home, too!?" The blonde girl was impressed with her imposter's time management skills. She had gotten it down to the last minute.

"Uh, hello!? Didn't they ever teach you that having a routine is bad, if you're an Undercover Federal Agent?"

"Shhhhh!" The blonde freaked out silently, urging her unwelcomed guest to enter the house. "Are you insane!? You can't say that stuff out loud!"

"Oh, what…because at twelve-thirty-two your neighbors have nothing else to do, other than eavesdrop on your front door conversations with someone as sexy and also, sadly, as sweaty as little miss Moi?" She flipped her hair like a Diva, feeling quite good and literally quite sweaty after jogging all the way to this house, from where she had insisted the taxi would drop her off.

"Angela, I don't even know how to reply to this…" The blonde one told the imposter.

"It's nice to see you too, Amanda." Angela smirked. "And yes, I do enjoy sneaking up on people."

"I can see you're damn good at it, too. You little creep!"

The girls set up the dining table and Amanda was happy to find food, ready to be consumed. She had checked in her usual hours at work and she knew she had nothing other than breakfast stuff back at home.

"Why are you here?" Amanda asked, pouring herself some Coca Cola into a glass.

"Just thought I'd stop by. You know, I was in the neighborhood."

"Yeah, sure…" Amanda rolled her eyes, knowing that the Academy Wild Card most definitely had an agenda.

Angela then busied herself with destroying the pizza in front of her, while she initiated some small talk about how the Academy was going and what trainings she was doing at the moment.

While Amanda enjoyed reminiscing about her own past experiences, she was also patiently waiting for the moment when Angela would blurt out the real reason why she was there.

"So, how's life with Jack going?" She asked when the pizza was gone and they were just sipping on the rest of the fizzy drinks.

"You know I don't live with Jack, right?"

"But his toothbrush is in the bathroom and he has a total of two drawers in here – one in the bedroom and one in the living room."

"How on Earth would you know this!?" Amanda choked a bit, hearing such specifics.

Since she had walked Angela in, they had been together, sitting next to each other the entire time. Angie didn't even go use the restroom, so how the Hell could she possibly know such details about this house?

"Oh my God! That break-in two weeks ago…that was _you!_?" Amanda suddenly realized and it all made sense now.

One day she had come back home, only to find the door cracked open. It had sent her into panic and she had called the police, but once she had walked in, there was absolutely no damage to anything, nothing had been moved, stolen or trashed. Everything was just the way she had left it. That had made for a very awkward apology to the two policemen who had responded to a Federal Agent's midnight house call.

"It doesn't take a genius to put the puzzle pieces together, Angela. You came by my home two weeks ago, wanting to talk to me. You probably chickened out, hearing me park out back, so you must have left in a hurry. And here you are again now. So, tell me…what's bothering you?" Amanda said softly, hoping she'd be able to get through to Angela.

Truth was – she knew absolutely nothing about this girl. They had shared a room at the Academy for a week and then Angela had turned the Academy upside down, searching for clues as to what had happened to her roommate, why had she disappeared like this. That only meant two things – she was stubborn as Hell and she was also an amazing, loyal person. Amanda's job had been to act like the bitchy roommate and she had made Angela's first week a living Hell, to the point where Angela would rather nap on a bench outside, than to go and enjoy the comfort of her own bed in between classes, just to avoid Amanda's idiotic outbursts. And even after all of that – Angela had made it her life's mission to find out what had happened to Amanda after she disappeared in thin air, that night of the training in the woods. That was not just 'loyalty'. That was 'bravery'. And it was also 'integrity'. Amanda was one of the many people who had noticed those qualities in Angela. The others included Ben, Dan and a whole bunch of other names of important people.

"Fine, yes. I came here to talk to you about something, but then I realized it's dumb, so I left." Angie shrugged, finally admitting some of the truth.

"And you're here again…even if it's dumb?" Amanda challenged her.

Angela looked like she was desperate to get something off her chest, but she sounded terrified of actually sharing what was on her mind.

"I guess I thought I'd give it a second try. I considered grabbing some vodka, but I do have PFT at seven tomorrow and you are leaving for…you know where…" Angie ended off mysteriously.

She had overheard that Amanda had gotten signed to a new undercover case and she made it sound like she knew where she was going, just to piss Amanda off that such confidential information had come out. All Angela knew was that this was Amanda's last night in her Virginia home and she had no idea when – or even _if_; she was ever coming back. So, if she wanted to talk, this was her only chance.

And yet, being there felt wrong. What she needed to say was huge and it was weird to share it with someone she barely knew.

"They say it's going to be a two weeks tops kind of a case. For me, a least. I'm the only one going under. Two weeks, that's not bad…" Amanda's tone of voice showed Angela that this girl was giving herself some reassurance. She did not sound like she was okay with this case assignment, at all.

"Is it ever as easy as they say, though…?" Angie whispered her half-question, half-affirmation.

"No. It never is and you know it." Amanda said, with so much more behind that statement.

Her words made Angela shift uncomfortably.

"What's on your mind before you go under?" Angie asked curiously.

"I don't know…they tell me to try to detach from who I really am. I'm supposed to start thinking and acting like the 'new me' from the moment I get my briefing, which for me would be tomorrow, on the plane, on my way to wherever I'm being shipped off to."

"Do you like it? I mean, isn't it weird to not be yourself?" Angie continued asking and this was just the beginning of a series of questions she had for Amanda.

"Yeah, I like it. I mean, it really is weird, but it is quite literally my job. You'd have to be very smart and resourceful, in order to do the job. You have to have bomb survival skills and you have to-…"

"Shh." Angie silenced her. "I've heard your speech at the Academy, when you taught us the essentials of undercover. I wanna hear your _thoughts_ now, not the theory. Please? I really need to know…"

"My thoughts? Uh, okay…well, each time I go under, I think that I might never come back, I might never see Jack again and I might never sleep in my bed. And that doesn't just mean that I might get killed, so I'd never come back because of _that_."

"What does it mean then!?" Angela nearly jumped in her seat, wanting to hear it all.

"It means that this job fucks you up, okay? If you come home, you'll either not be yourself mentally or at best you'll only just have stab wounds, gunshot wounds, severe trauma, concussions, nightmares…"

"Dissociative cognitive disorder?" Angela threw this in there.

"Yup." Amanda just came out and confirmed it. "You know, people never speak about that, until it is too late. My job is portrayed like this bomb ass fun thing, in all of those movies, but the reality of it is so much more destructive. It drains the life out of you and quite frankly, sometimes you find yourself wishing you were dead."

"Is that normal? I mean, wishing you were…you know…" Angela kept on asking, this time sounding way more timid.

It almost felt like she was waiting for Amanda to say a specific word or to hint at something, so she'd ask about it.

"Unfortunately, yes. We are taught to have this crazy strong desire to survive and to keep the mission going, but honestly…sometimes we just-…"

"…don't feel like it's worth it?" Angie cut Amanda off, offering _this_ ending to her statement.

"Exactly. It's like, our world is gone and like-…" Amanda tried to continue speaking, but she only managed to say half a sentence again.

"…like you don't even know who you are and you're afraid of even attempting to be yourself if you could even remember how it was done? Because, when you act like you, you feel like…I don't know…like you…like…" Angie was now at the loss of words to describe it.

"…like you have already lost everything you ever had, so why the Hell bother trying to go back to who you were, if there is nothing left out there for you? Like, why the Hell not keep pretending to be someone else, find new people to surround yourself with, make new friends, but then…" Amanda trailed off, knowing that Angela would pick it up and complete that statement, too.

"…but then those new friendships are superficial, at best, and they could never give you the satisfaction of having what you once had, when you were truly yourself?" Angie said and Amanda nodded.

"So, why not invent a new identity for yourself, you know? If you do this long enough, it becomes like second skin. And if you're good enough at the job, you might be able to keep the charades going for a little while…before…" Amanda spoke.

"…before you start to spiral and you need to talk it out with someone who gets it?" Angie mumbled while biting on her lower lip hard.

"There really isn't anyone to talk to. Undercover is a lonely job. There are certain truths and confessions that one could never say out loud. And no, not because of confidentiality issues, but because there is simply nobody in the entire world who could understand the pain and confusion someone in this field is going through. And certainly a damn shrink won't be able to fix those issues, either." Amanda's words hit the spot.

"Thank you! I tried telling Dr. Allen that!" Angie sighed dramatically.

She really liked her therapist, but she – quite like Amanda, had her own reasons to believe that this woman was never going to understand her past traumas, let alone to help her overcome the pain.

"That doesn't mean that talking about it does not help." Amanda countered. "It puts you in the worst of moods, though, because it's just horrible to be pouring your heart out to someone who understands less than one percent of your troubles. But sometimes saying it out loud helps. You just have to be careful who you choose, as the recipient to your emotional downpour…and yes, _that_ is because of confidentiality issues."

Angie took a moment to absorb it all and to overanalyze each word they had just said to each other.

"So, either be brave enough to speak openly or shut the Hell up and suck it up, huh?" Angie's final conclusion was this.

"I can't answer that. It's different with everyone. In the beginning, I bottled everything up inside and for the longest time it was fine, until one day I exploded and I just screamed my confessions out to someone. They had absolutely no clue how to help me, but they listened nonetheless."

"Was it someone who knew nothing about your job specifics?" Angie asked.

"It was my mentor, actually."

Amanda's words hit Angela way too hard. Her mentor!? How on Earth was it possible for someone to teach you everything you know on the job and to then be completely and utterly useless when it came to helping you understand your trauma and deal with the pain? How was that even logical? Wasn't the mentor supposed to be the one and only person who would know you and know what is best for you, at all times?

"Yeah, it came as a shock to me, too…" Amanda sighed, replying to what she knew for sure that Angela was thinking, in her head, at that moment.

"But…what the Hell…this is so damn confusing…wow…"

Amanda gave her a moment to process these news as she went to grab a bottle of white wine.

For the next five minutes or so, Angela's gaze was fixed on the glass in front of her and she just stood there, with her elbows on the table and her chin resting in the cups of her hands, with her mouth slightly parted from the surprise…just analyzing the phenomenon that it was that your own Mentor was unable to help you out. That terrified her!

"I keep hearing and reading that there is only one way to deal with the pain…" Amanda offered, a few minutes later.

"They say that in our hearts there is always this _one_ specific person that we know is genuinely going to understand and help us out – someone who cares about us deeply and unconditionally. It could be a parent, a Mentor, a friend, even a therapist. But we know who they are." Amanda continued once she saw how interested Angela was to hear about this coping mechanism.

"How do you know he or she is the right person to talk to, though?" Angie asked.

"You just do. You look at them and you know. Also, they say, this is the hardest person to go bare your soul to. Sadly…" Amanda rolled her eyes, thinking of her own situation.

"Do you have a person like that?"

"My brother. I know in my heart that he is the only human being who could ever comfort me." Amanda shared willingly.

"So, go talk to him!"

"It's not that easy. Another misconception people have about my job, from all the horrible TV shows, is that only CIA undercover Agents are required to never tell anyone – not even their families, about their involvement with the Government business and the job specifics."

"Technically…" Angie then proceeded into pouring out all sorts of legal information about the Bureau and the Agency, enlisting the differences they had, when it came to their undercover personnel.

"Please stop talking. My head is spinning." Amanda cracked up laughing, putting her hand up and praying to God that Angela would shut up. "I had the liberty of choosing whether I'd want my family to know about my job, or not. I chose the latter."

"Woah, why?" Angie was surprised.

"I just didn't want them to worry."

"But…didn't you say your brother would be there for you? Like, don't you want his support?"

"Angie, you're still young. One day you'll understand…"

"Dude, you are literally only two years older than me and you've only been an active Agent for a year, so…" Angie didn't mean to sound so offensive, but she could also not help but put Amanda back in her place.

"If you've ever been in my shoes, you'll know what this person means to you and you'll know it is virtually impossible for you to reach out to that person, knowing that everything you say to them is going to hurt them, to leave them feeling empty and confused in the end. So, you'll keep on bottling it all up until you explode and do something stupid. And not to freak you out or anything, but self-harm is often the first step, at least that's what studies show. It's not my case, but then again, I've only been doing this job for a year. I can't even begin to imagine how confused someone with many more years of experience might feel, if they haven't been able to find an outlet…"

Angie gulped, listening to those last words of Amanda's. It made sense – the one trusted person would automatically be someone you care greatly about, right? So, in order not to hurt them, one would keep hurting themselves instead, right? And that self-harm was surely not only meant physically. It was psychological, too, and to Angela that sounded even worse. Torture, self-blaming, doubt, confusion…that sounded a bit too familiar to her, also not in a physical way, but rather psychological. And it sucked.

This time her silence was a bit too long and it became a bit too awkward. Fifteen minutes after Amanda's concluding speech, Angela still looked like she was terrified of life. Her gaze was now piercing through the wine bottle and she barely even blinked.

"Whatever your trauma is…" Amanda started off silently. "I'm not your person."

Angie nodded in agreement. It was nice to find out that she should stop dropping by Amanda's house uninvited from this point on, as she had lost sleep over this conversation a few too many times these days. But it also sucked realizing that one more name of her 'finding the right person' list had just been scratched off. That barely left anyone else.

Bryan was her roommate. He was a dude. He wouldn't understand. She didn't feel comfortable enough to tell him her secrets.

Dan was her Mentor. If Amanda's mentor couldn't help her, what was to say that Angie's one could? Plus, it was literally the same person who mentored both of them.

Ben was literally the second tallest person on the FBI ladder. Going to him with her juvenile crap would be weird. And it wasn't exactly all perfectly legal, either. So, no.

Angie really liked that one bartender woman from the café where the other Trainees sometimes went to catch up on their studying, but this was a stranger, someone who would most probably be scarred for life if they heard everything that Angela had to pour out.

She had been eyeing different people lately, trying to figure out if anyone could be her 'right person'.

Amanda, so far, was her best bet. She would somehow understand. And yet, there they were…realizing that life was complicated and that sometimes sacrifices had to be made. And Angela would be damned if she hurt the one person who she was sure was her 'right person', because yes, deep down in her heart she knew exactly who that person was, for her. Each time she looked at their face, she just wanted to scream and to let it all out, to tell them what she was feeling, what she had gone through and exactly why it hurt so much. But she loved them too much, there was no way she'd put this much burden on their shoulders. She'd rather keep living a lie.

But that didn't make her want to talk to them any less.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"Ducksdragonfly"** Well, Emily does have that motherly instinct, when it comes to kids. And it is especially heightened with Angela lately. Emily would do whatever it takes, to help Angela come to terms with her inner thoughts and those feelings that she is clearly trying to suppress. _**Whatever it takes!**_ Also, thank you for the support, it means a lot! Where I live we are on strict lockdown and work has been wonky. A lot of businesses are suffering and people are in "smart working", which means less can be accomplished, being unable to work in your office. I've entertained myself with a massive house cleanout this weekend, followed by homemade drinks, because...why not!? Also, isn't that exactly what Emily Prentiss would do? :) And I'm writing the future chapters where things...happen :P and truths come out and it's a whooooole new dimension of this story. Been updating scarsely lately, as there is a HUGE decline in the interest for social media (YouTube and FanFic, as far as I know) lately...don't know if it has to do with the elections or anything, but I've been trying to upload less frequently, because if people don't read now, I don't want them to have a huge amount to catch up on once things pick up...if that makes any sense :/ lol! Anyway, how have you been? I replied your inbox, but you never messaged back again. Hope it's all good. Stay safe!

**"sweetkid45"** I hope so, too. But she's not a privileged lil' brat who gets her way, every time...She has to prove worthy. And thanks :)!


	114. And All That Jazz

** CHAPTER 114**

_**AND ALL THAT JAZZ...**_

"Thank you for the attention. As always – it was fun to be here with all of you, young fellas. And yeah, that's it. I'll see you next week for some more amazingly interesting stories on human bones and ancestry, wohoo." Clara said absolutely sarcastically, at the end of her theoretical class on Monday evening.

She had figured that quite a bunch of people were interested in what she had to say, but she also knew that her class was a dumb one. She had no idea how she had gotten herself into forensic anthropology, all these years ago, but she was damn good at it and if the Bureau wanted her to teach, she'd be glad to share her expertise with others.

Also, she was by far, the coolest teacher they had. She was so relatable and so free-spirited, that people naturally felt drawn to her and thus, more inclined to pay attention in class. And she threw in a lot of international travel stuff, which turned this into half anthropology, half 'what the IRT does' kind of a class and to many of the Trainees this was super entertaining.

"You know you're an exact copy of that woman, don't you?" Bryan raised an eyebrow, coming to that conclusion after Clara Seger's class finished.

"Pff, we are _nothing_ alike!" Angie said defensively.

"Really? The hair? The height? The body build? The language you both use? Your weird sense of humor? The way you both take the piss out of yourselves when you speak? The way you both know how to entertain a crowd? The only visible difference is your eye color. What, do you also share the same DNA?" Bryan laughed.

"No, we do not!" Angie hissed at him, now even more defensively. Something about his words made her tick, and not in a good way.

"Okay, relax." He sighed. Sometimes Angie could get pissed off way too easily.

"Hunter, a word?" Clara called out for her when everyone was leaving the auditorium.

"Does _everyone_ here want to have a damn word with Trainee Hunter today!?" Angie muttered to herself unhappily, as she walked over to Clara's desk, at the podium.

First, it had been Dan and his pathetic attempt to make her stay at the Academy. Had she not promised it to Prentiss already, his words would not have mattered to her, at all.

And now this IRS woman wanted to talk.

"What?" Angie said grumpily once she was in front of her.

"Well, hello to you too…" Clara raised an eyebrow. When did Angela become rude?

"I'm not in the mood for…whatever you'll say next. So, just say it and let me be."

"I wanted to talk to you about a case I'd like to request you to assist on, next week, with my team." Clara said hesitantly.

"Can't. I'm busy next week." Angie was not in a good mood, at all.

"Oh, what are you doing next week?" Of course she'd be busy, she was in the FBI Academy. But something about the way she said it made Clara wonder what she really meant.

"Probably waiting tables at Hooters or dancing on a pole in Vegas." Angie shrugged.

She hadn't really thought it through. Yes, she could go to Europe, where she did indeed, have a job waiting for her. But she didn't have the money to travel, so sadly she'd have to work locally until she had enough cash for an international flight. Living life, one day at a time, was not something new to Angela. She had done it, all day, every day, since the age of eight. It didn't really scare her. She also had one more option, but she knew the Bureau would be following her every move, so it was a safe bet to say that she wasn't going to play those cards and end up in jail, even if it was the easier option.

"I'm glad to know you're way too prude to do either of those things." Clara smirked and it drove Angela absolutely nuts.

"Oh, you think you know me so well, don't you?" She raised her voice a little bit.

"Shhh!" Clara urged her. "Not here."

"Don't you shush me. I'm not a child anymore!" Angie stomped her left foot on the floor.

"You sure about that?" Clara raised an eyebrow at her little scene.

"Come on, I know I'm the last class on your schedule today. How about you spend the night at my place, huh? I can cook you something nice and we can watch TV, sounds good?" Clara suggested with a soft smile. She was stunningly beautiful but more so when she smiled. Quite like Angela.

"Your cooking cannot compare!" Angie looked away. Nobody's cooking could ever compare to what she had missed, all these years.

"And I despise TV and movies and everything fake. Just like your little game here. So, go home and leave me alone, okay?" She added.

"Wow, you really are acting up…" Clara frowned.

She hadn't expected the bubbly girl Angela to act this way. And Angie wasn't acting out with anyone else these days. Somehow, with Clara, her inner daemons came out and she could not help her reactions, nor control the words that were coming out of her mouth. She felt comfortable enough to be herself, with Clara. And Angie's real self was now a raging teenager, a very rebellious, unhappy one, at that.

"Stop talking before you say something even more stupid. Come on, you're coming home with me." Clara extended her hand and Angie let it just sit in the air. She refused to hold it.

"I don't need you." Angie said, turning to look away.

"I know." Clara kept on smiling. Oh, Angela was so damn transparent, with her little act, her childish tantrum and her inability to control her emotions.

"But I'm what you have tonight, so…take it or leave it." Clara's hand was still in the air. She would not retrieve it, not until she felt Angie's hand against it.

Angie faced her for just a second. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Plus, Monday was done and she only had to survive four more days at the Academy before she'd be free of it all and she'd never have to see those people, ever again.

Realizing that, her chin quivered. Lately, it had been her tell. She could not help the way her body reacted to her inner emotions these days. It was always her damned chin that gave it all out, no matter how good her poker face was.

Hesitantly and very slowly, she put her hand against Clara's and let Clara drag her out of the auditorium and downstairs, to the parking lot.

The drive to her home was silent. Clara stopped by a Walmart and asked if Angie wanted to stay in the car.

She had opted for some fresh air. Plus, she quite enjoyed big American grocery stores. She hadn't seen such huge ones back in Europe.

While Clara searched for actual food, Angie grabbed a cart and filled it with sweet treats and other snacks that would probably last her a year.

"Wow, not what I meant when I told you to go find something for dessert…" Clara's jaw dropped when she inevitably bumped into Angie along the aisles.

"Plus, I'm not paying for all that junk food." Clara frowned.

"You better, or I'll gladly tell everyone how naughty you were that night in Cuba, with that guy…what was his name again? Oh, that's right – you don't even know." Angie smirked, going back to her manipulative ways.

Clara laughed out loud. Her colleague Mae was up to speed about it, since the morning after it had happened. Angie had no idea how much FBI people loved to discuss their love escapades with one another. Her boss Jack Garrett, also knew about it.

But Clara had to play her cards right. She had to let Angie have her win, so Clara could have her win later, that evening.

"Oh, no! Ok, I'm paying!" Clara faked fear and, even though Angie knew she was being played, she still played along and took that as a victory.

"Can I also get some crisps?" Angie asked, as they walked down that aisle, towards the cashiers.

"Some what?" Clara asked a dumb question, but the linguist in her quickly realized that 'crisps' was the British word for chips, which was what they were surrounded by at that moment.

"Oh, yeah. Sure. But not more than ten packs, please!" She felt the need to put a limit to it and, given how many sweets Angela had grabbed earlier, she decided that ten packs of chips was an okay bargain.

"Ohh, my daughter also loves chips. I have to always tell her not to buy too many." Some random woman walked by them and felt the need to comment out loud.

"Would people just stop assuming whose freaking daughter I am!? It's getting old. And it's annoying as Hell!" Angie rolled her eyes and walked away, holding just two packs of chips. Sadly, this was all she managed to lay her hands on before that woman had decided to make small talk.

"How did that make you feel?" Clara asked carefully, when she found Angie by the cashiers, just seconds later.

"What, you a shrink now, too?" Angie hissed.

"No, but I am a very good listener and I am someone who cares about you. A lot, actually…" Clara's hand brushed against Angie's cheek, but she shrieked away instantly. She wanted none of her caresses and attention.

To make up for it, Clara was now holding three more packs of chips in her hands, on top of the two full carts – one with healthy, good food, and the other one full with chocolate and snacks.

Once they started to mark it all up on the machine, Clara realized they needed more shopping bags. Just Angie's stuff amounted to four bags, full of stuff. The bags of chips were quite voluminous, so they made everything seem much more than what it actually was.

"I'll drop these off at your dorm room tomorrow morning, on my way to work. And, if you'd like to stay the night at my house, I'll drop you off in the morning as well." She offered genuinely.

"I have a place to sleep, thanks." Angie could not help being defensive.

She hated it. She disliked acting out, but she could not help it. Each remark made her feel a tiny little better and, given what she was going through, she was desperate to feel better.

"And don't you dare steal my treats! I know exactly what I chose and if so much as a chocolate bar is missing – oh, especially a chocolate bar, I'm suing you!" She said, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.

And Clara knew why Angela was acting this way. She wasn't dumb and neither was Angela. They both knew that she needed to let it all out. And she could not do that during class, or anywhere near the Academy. She also did not have any trusted people to do that with, so Clara had sacrificed herself, to be Angela's emotional punching bag for the night. And she'd do anything, just to make Angela burst, to make her let it out and work it all out. She'd give her space if she wanted to do so, on her own terms, and she'd be by her side, if she needed someone to guide her.

"It shouldn't be you…" Angie whispered, coming to the realization that Clara was doing all of this, for her.

"You don't seem to think you have anyone else." Clara said softly, now placing the shopping bags in the trunk of her car.

"But you don't deserve my attitude…You've always been nice to me…" Angie's eyes were now much softer.

Even when she needed to act out, she could not keep up with it for more than a few minutes before she'd turn back into the wonderful person, with that big heart that never wanted to hurt anyone around her.

"Sweetheart, I once kept stuff in and then when I finally exploded, I did so with a freaking hammer in my hand, destroying my boss' car until it wasn't even good enough for scrap anymore." Clara laughed out loud.

"Did he ever find out?" Angie asked curiously. She could simply not imagine that cute and put together Agent, destroying a car with a hammer.

"Of course he did. He was at the parking lot, with our entire team, watching me do so. And he let me do it. He did not say a word. He sat there and he let me hit it, again and again. He gave me all the time I needed, in order to get it all out of my system, because if I hadn't done it then and there, I would have done it a day later, maybe a week later, or a month later, on the field, compromising my safety and possibly the lives of my colleagues as well, including Garrett's. So, he sacrificed a car, but he did it for me. God bless his soul, this man has closed his eyes more than once, when it comes to me and my wild nature…" Clara finally laughed. It was true, her boss had always been on her side. She was lucky to have him in her life.

"Wait, you destroyed _Garrett's_ car!?" Angie gasped.

When Clara had mentioned a boss, Angie had figured she meant a job way before the FBI.

"I sure did. And to this day, he keeps reminding me how proud he is of me, for doing so. A car is worth money. A life is worth so much more. And, at that time in my life, I needed to pour my anger out on something. And I like to do it with things. But something is telling me you like to do that, with people…"

Angie bit her bottom lip. It was true, she always poured her anger out on people, not things.

"Let me be there for you tonight. Say whatever you want. I won't be offended." Clara said softly, urging Angie to get in the car once they were done placing the stuff in the trunk.

"But I turn into a brat when I unload my emotional baggage and I don't want to hurt you with any dumb thing I might say…"

"Oh, my God! Please try to make me love and adore you more than this? I dare you! Because, damn it, girl…you are the most sweet and thoughtful girl on the planet. Damn it! How can you always think of other people's feelings when you're literally going through Hell yourself!?" Clara had always wondered that about Angela. She'd always put other people's feelings first, if those were people she knew and cared about. It was her brand. She would apologize for the smallest inconvenience and she'd make sure the other person knew in advance that she was sorry for something she hasn't even done yet, or might not even end up doing.

"Why do you care about me? I'm literally nobody to you…" Angie asked her a question that has been on her mind for the longest time.

"Because you're an amazing kid, with a troubled past, but an amazing future and an amazing heart. And you can play dumb all you want, you can call yourself whatever name you wish, but it won't change how special you are and how much you deserve to be loved, sweetheart." Clara was about to back out of the parking space when she stopped and attempted something one more time.

Her hand reached for Angie's cheek and, this time, the girl did not move away.

"And you're most certainly not a nobody to me. You're family. You'll always be family to me, whether you want to admit it or not. And I love you, so much…" Clara continued, and it was now _her_ chin that was quivering. She had the same tell, as Angie.

"Yeah, people have been trying to make me open up and talk about my feelings and the 'truth' and stuff…" Angie said, making air quotes around the word _truth_.

"I believe those are some very smart people, Angela. You should listen to them. There is no doubt in my mind that they care about you, a lot, and the advice they gave you would only serve to help you out."

"But I don't need help. I'm fine!" Angie said, a bit too defensively.

She analyzed her own behavior and came to the conclusion that she was being a brat. Again.

"Fine. I may not be as fine as I make believe. But I also don't want to talk about my feelings and whatnot. It makes me feel weird. Like, as if I'm powerless." She whispered.

"And you love being in charge, don't you, you little firecracker?" Clara chuckled. "But you can't control everything in life. And that's okay, because sometimes it's fun to see what life will hit you with, when you least expect it to."

"That is a terrifying concept!" Angie gasped one more time.

She was a complete control freak. An overachiever. A leader. She would be damned if she let anyone or anything take the lead, especially when it concerned her life. No way. She hated surprises and she would be happy if she never received any, for the rest of her life.

"God, you two are the same damn person, I swear!" Clara shook her head, thinking how much Angela acted and sounded like someone else she knew, someone she chose not to mention the name of.

"Can you make me anything with potatoes?" Angie changed the topic. She was done with the previous one.

"Yeah, sure. I know this amazing recipe. Trust me, you'll like it." Clara smiled, playing along, because with Angela one had to thread extremely carefully.

"I've always trusted you, Clarsie." Angie smiled and it was obvious she did not mean the damn potatoes.

Clara could not help but grin, hearing Angela call her _that_. It was the cutest, most innocently childish derivative of her full name, that on could ever come up with.

Twenty-five minutes later they were pulling up in front of Clara's apartment building.

"Oh, good. You don't live in a house. I'm staying over then." Angie stated.

"Why wouldn't you stay if I lived in a house?" Clara found that to be weird.

"I don't sleep anywhere lesser than the third, even fourth floor, especially if it has windows." Angie stated.

"Sorry to break it to you, but most people's homes in America are one, maximum two-floor houses…with windows." Clara ended off, using a spooky voice in a very dramatic manner.

"I find that to be terrifying!" Angie cringed. It sounded worse than prison and worse than a world without pizza in it.

"You are one weird kid." Clara sighed, searching for her home keys in her oversized bag.

"I'm not a kid! Why does everyone keep calling me that?" Angie frowned. It was extremely hard to act grown up when everyone kept belittling her.

"Because you chose a career with people whose average age is about fifty, my dear. So, in their eyes, you'll always be a kid. In _some_ people's eyes, you'll always be a kid." Clara corrected herself in the end of her statement.

"Well, I don't have to worry about that in four days." Angie smirked.

"What's in four days?" Clara's curiosity made her almost sprint to her floor and open the door quickly.

"Friday. Finally!" Angie rolled her eyes.

"And what's happening on Friday?" Clara kept on pushing, because so far she knew that she would never get a straightforward answer from this girl until she had pushed enough.

"Freedom." Angie replied shortly before she walked in Clara's apartment.

Clara was a bit of a Barbie doll. She was always put together, her hair was neat and she had some solid cool choice of lipstick, each time Angela had seen her. So, she kind of imagined a cozy crib, full of beautiful things.

Walking further in, she frowned, unable to contain her unwanted and brutally honest first impression.

"Seriously? All the sweet government money you guys get and ya'll live like vampires. Really?"

"Salary is not so sweet after the budget cuts. The IRS got hit hard, too." Clara pointed out.

"Well, speaking from experience, a little Target run would help brighten this place up a little, make it a little more…homey, you know? And it's cheap." Angie suggested.

She liked house decorations, even though she, herself, didn't really own any.

In fact, she didn't own things, _any_ kind of things. She had some clothes and a few pairs of shoes. That was it. And then there was the box with her tiny prized possessions and also, her hair bows. That was all she owned. She could move house with just her gym bag and all of her things, inside of it. She had done just that, when she had moved to the Academy. All she owned in life was now stuck in that minuscule dorm room she was sharing with Bryan.

"Want to help me decorate? I have the upcoming weekend off." Clara said cheerfully.

"Can't. Like I said, I'd be looking for a job, somewhere in the world." Angie stated calmly.

"Wait, you weren't joking about it?" This revelation came out of nowhere. Was this kid for real?

"Nope. I'm quitting the Academy. I've been forced to stay until Friday, but then I'm out. I've already printed out my official resignation letter. I'll sign it and hand it to my Class Mentor on Saturday morning." She sounded so damn sure, it was chilling.

"But…but…but…" Clara stuttered. She was at the loss of words. Never in a million years would she have seen that coming. Apparently, as much as Angela hated receiving surprises, she sure as Hell liked giving them.

"You're possibly the best Trainee this year. I keep hearing people talking about you. Come on, you can't leave…" Clara whined.

"I can and I will."

"Why!?"

"Because there is nothing that the Bureau can offer me. Nothing that I want, anyway." Angie sighed and felt like she was sweating. She pulled on her shirt and attempted to take a deeper breath, to fill her lungs with some air.

"Why don't you go take a shower? There's a fresh towel under the sink. I'll go start on that potato recipe, okay? Take your time…" Clara smiled sweetly, but it was all part of her last-moment plan to get rid of Angela for as long as she could, so she could figure things out, with the help of someone.

"Okay." Angie just shrugged, like she didn't have a care in the world.

It was chilling how calm she was after the huge bomb she had just dropped. Clara was no profiler, but she knew the definition of a sociopath and Angie was showing such tendencies. How could she be so calm and collected through this? She did not seem bothered, at all, and Clara knew how hard Angela had worked, just to get in the Academy. So, to just quit like this…it was weird.

Angie walked to the bathroom and locked the door. She trusted nobody, even if she had just told Clara she trusted her, just minutes ago. Better safe than sorry, so the door needed to be locked, although, it was highly unlikely that Clara would come after her with the kitchen knife. But still, she wouldn't risk it.

Clara, on the other hand, grabbed her phone and a jacket and went to the rooftop of her building, which was two floors up from the floor she lives on.

"Pick up!" Clara muttered, having dialed a number she knew by heart.

"Pick up!" She was starting to get a little impatient when all she heard was the beeping of the phone, but no answer.

"PICK UP!" She shouted at no one, but unluckily for her, the person she was calling had picked up at that same moment.

"Woah, trying to blow out my eardrums?" The person said.

"She's leaving the Academy!" Clara shot it, loud and clear, without any sugarcoating.

"I know."

"What do you mean, _you know_? We can't let her do this!" Clara countered.

"And I'm not letting her do this! But you know how she is…so damn stubborn. If we say anything, it would only make her want to leave faster. So, I'm playing a different angle."

"Please tell me you have a plan." Clara insisted.

"I do. You know I always do. It all goes down on Friday."

"What's so special about Friday? Angela kept raving about it and said she's leaving first thing, Saturday morning. She has printed her official resignation documents." Clara shared.

"Oh yeah? Has she signed those?" The other person asked, giving Clara a moment to remain silent.

"She would never sign that thing. Trust me, I know her." They added, with a somewhat evil laugh.

"I hate how good you are at profiling." Clara had to agree – she just could not imagine Angela signing those papers.

"Are you forgetting who I am?"

"Emily, please stop making this about you." Clara sighed. "We need to keep her here…"

"And I told you – I'm working on it. I'm doing my absolute best, just to get her to want to stay."

"But you know she only wants one thing from the Bureau and, somehow, she now knows that this is not an option." Clara regretted not bringing a glass of wine with her. This conversation was making her want to drink.

Emily, on the other hand, had a glass full of cold white wine, in one hand. JJ was now waiting for her in the living room, as Emily had excused herself, in order to take the damned call that would not stop interrupting her girls' night with JJ, while JJ was grilling her ass about all the dirty details she was willing to share, when it came to her French man.

"I know. I told her about it. And before you call me crazy – just keep in mind that I made it a point to always be truthful with her, okay? If the Bureau says the BAU cannot even welcome an intern this year, Angela has the right to know. If she wants to leave the Academy because of it, I have the right to feel some type of way about it…" Emily smirked. She sure had a plan already set in motion.

"You really care about her, don't you?" Clara smiled, with her cheek smashed against her phone.

"Like you really need to ask." Emily smiled as well.

Clara knew. She understood. That was one of the many reasons why Emily felt so connected to her, why she cherished that friendship so much.

"Now stop freaking out and go prepare that potato thing I texted you earlier." Emily urged her.

"Yeah, about that. Couldn't you have chosen something a little less complicated? Like, damn, what is that recipe!?"

"I didn't choose it. It's one of Angela's favorites. And go crazy on the sour cream. Don't take into account how tiny she is – that girl eats all the caloric things in the world." Emily laughed.

In a way, she was the same. She'd eat healthy and then she'd have moments when she'd have pizza all day, every day. And sweets and ice cream and sugary coffee, anything she wanted. And she still looked amazing, at her age. Genetics - it was the only thing she was grateful to have inherited from her mother, the Big Bad Prentiss, as she called her.

"Thank you for giving me the heads up. I feel like she really needed someone to be there for her and we both know this could not have been you…" Clara fidgeted with the phone in her hands.

"No, it can sadly not be me right now. Not yet anyway. And she does have Bryan, but he doesn't get her like _you_ do. He doesn't know her like we do. And since it couldn't be me, you're the second best."

"Second best!?" Clara faked offense.

"You know what I mean! God, you're as dramatic as Angela. You two could not be any more similar." Emily kept on laughing. Yes, it was a hard conversation to have, but she knew she had to look at it from a humoristic point of view.

"On the contrary. It's always been _you_ that she looks like. It is always going to be _you_, Emily…" Clara trailed off. She didn't need to put it in words, Emily knew exactly what she meant.

"Go get creative with that sour cream." Emily urged her, because if this conversation continued any longer, she'd surely cry. She was already tipsy enough to feel way too emotional.

"And you go make sure our baby stays with us, okay?" Clara pleaded.

"You know I will, Love." Emily ended the call with those words and she returned to the living room, for some more gossip with JJ.

"Took you long enough!" Angie scared the crap out of Clara as she walked back into her apartment, after finishing that secretive phone call outside.

She was now standing by the living room door, holding a towel against her body and shivering.

"May I use your stuff?" She asked politely.

"Angela, I told you to go have a shower, of course I intended that you can also use any products you wish." Clara specified.

She could not believe Angela had sat there, the entire time, waiting to ask before using anything that did not belong to her. That was why Clara loved her so much.

"Ok, cool." Angie walked back to the bathroom and, once again, locked the door after herself.

Clara busied herself in the kitchen, mentally insulting Emily for that recipe.

When Angie was done with the shower, she briefly reappeared in the living room, making sure she would hear it come from Clara's mouth, that she could go choose _any_ clothes she wanted, from her wardrobe.

Five minutes later, Angie walked in the kitchen, looking like she was going to a party.

"Oh, no. We're not going wild tonight. Forget it. I have a meeting with my Superiors tomorrow morning. I cannot roll to that, drunk. And you're dangerous to go party with. No way!" Clara kept on shaking her head, surrounded by peeled potatoes and stacks of sour cream.

"I'm not going out. I just wanted to look cute…" Angie shrugged.

"In _that_? At home?" Clara could not suppress her laughter. "Angela, this is possibly the nicest and most elegant dress I own. And you chose _that_, for a night in?"

"Yeah, why not? Do all of ya'll need to look like freaking nuns all the time? Can't a girl just be cute for one night?" Angie sighed. First Emily with that godawful turtle neck and now Clara, judging her own dress. Those women needed a reality check and some new clothes, quickly!

"Well, I guess you always liked dresses, so…have it your way. Why not?" Clara smiled.

"Oh my God, are you doing the potato casserole with sour cream and cheddar cheese!?" Angie licked her lips, just at the thought of it.

"I'm trying to, but I don't think it's happening…"

"You're not wearing the right attire, my dear…" Angie said in over the top British accent.

"Go fetch yourself something fancy and leave the cooking to someone who is maybe slightly more able…" She laughed.

Clara was a disaster in the kitchen, so _anyone_ would be more able than her.

"I'm not wearing a dress, to cook in!" Clara cringed.

All Angie did was to give her one of her famous icy glares and, five seconds later, Clara was on her way to the wardrobe.

When she came back to the kitchen, she found Angie dancing around and singing along to some song that repeated the word 'bitch' over and over again. This girl sure loved rap music.

"First rule of a successful Chef…" Angie showed her a corner of the kitchen counter where she had already opened a bottle of sparkly wine and laid out two glasses for them.

"Be drunk enough to not give a crap about the outcome!" She ended her sentence while pouring in both glasses and handing one to Clara.

"Hold on a second…" Clara grabbed her phone and pretended to be typing something on it. "Gotta put the Fire Department on speed dial, I feel like." She added, bursting into laughter.

"Girl, you know they can't handle our fayyyyaaaaa!" Angie accompanied her words with a loud and obnoxious snap of her fingers. Yes, she most definitely was a Diva, with an attitude.

Half an hour later, the food was in the oven and they were looking at a pamphlet for takeout pizza. _This_ was how much faith they had in their cooking abilities.

"If we order now, it will be here in time for when we find this thing burning in the oven." Clara spoke, already having chosen a pizza for herself.

"Come on, I want to at least give this a try. I love this dish. Maybe we did something right, hey, who knows…" Angie shot a glance towards the kitchen.

They were now in the living room area and the smell of heated sour cream was just starting to tickle Angie's nose. She felt like she was about to pass out, it smelled more than yummy.

Speaking about little things, such as home décor and cute dresses, time flied and at some point they both jumped from the sofa and made a run to the kitchen, to find out that they had gotten there just in time before the food would be overcooked and, potentially, burned.

"Wow, I didn't really think this would work out. Like, at all!" Angie said.

"Weren't you the one who said we should give it a try before we'd order pizza?"

"Yeah, but that was just for the sake of the team spirit. I honestly thought this would flop." Angie shrugged.

"Oh, aren't you the cutest little cheerleader, with your spirit talk and all that jazz."

"Oh my God! Chicago!" Angie smirked.

"I'm not booking a last minute flight to Chicago, Angela!" Clara had to put it out there.

"Really? First you think I'd wanna go out and have some sort of a wild rave party tonight, now you think I'm hinting that we go to Chicago for the night? Like, really? Is _that_ what you think I do – always getting myself into weird situations without using my brain to process what the outcome of my decisions would be?" Angie raised an eyebrow.

"Have you met you?" Clara raised an eyebrow, right back at her. And touché. Angie could not argue with that.

"I want to watch Chicago, the Musical! That's before you force me to watch some dumb fake TV show, like I'm sure you were planning to do…" Angie cleared it out.

"It's not dumb. It's a show about a girl with superpowers who works in a hospital and helps people…"

"Wow…you just lost some brain cells by saying that out loud." Angie laughed.

"But, it's my favorite show…" Clara frowned. Angela's hatred for movies and TV was not something most people could understand.

"And I like Chicago. _So, come on babe_…" Angie made a grand gesture with her hand.

"_Why don't we paint the town_…" She continued, now bursting into a song.

"_And all_…" She whispered and there was no doubt something grand and overly dramatic would follow.

"_That_…" She walked closer to Clara, only to pull away abruptly, making space for what was to come.

"_Jaaaaaazzzzzzz_…" She sung at the top of her lungs, with her hands flying in the air, quite like the scene she was referring to.

"I swear to God, you belong on Broadway!" Clara could not fathom why this girl, with her passion and her talent for Musicals, was so into serial killers instead.

"I know. People keep telling me that." Angie said, so sure of herself, yet without a trace of arrogance.

"Maybe I'll go to some castings, now that I'll have all this free time on my hands after Friday." She added.

Clara then realized that this was not a threat. No. Angie's constant reminder that she wanted to leave was a cry for help.

"God damn, maybe I am a profiler, too…" Clara muttered to herself, in reference to what she had said to Emily earlier, on the phone.

Angie was too busy going through the basic steps from Chicago's choreography, to notice Clara talking to herself.

"Can we eat now?" Angie asked, a minute later, when she was damn sure she still knew every step, every breath, every wink from the whole entire show.

"Oui." Clara replied, handing Angie two plates and allowing her to make the portions, which she would later regret, seeing as Angela had a huge appetite for such a small girl, and she placed three times the food that Clara would have chosen to put on the plates.

"No offense, but I don't like speaking French with _you_." Angie said honestly.

"Preferisci italiano?" Clara asked and Angie nodded, because she really did prefer talking to her in Italian.

"Allora, parlami di qualcosa. Raccontami una storia. Lo so che ti piacciono le storie." Clara spoke with a smile, urging Angie to talk to her about anything, to tell her a story, seeing as she knew how much Angie liked stories.

Angie helped her bring everything to the living room table where they sprawled on the sofa and grabbed a throw blanket before Clara searched for Chicago on her playlist. Of course she had it – a musical about two women, murderers, enemies who became friends, escaping from a life of darkness and sorrow, both with very dark past and both wishing for a brighter future. It hit a bit too close to home and Clara could not help but picture Emily Prentiss as her female co-lead, if her life was that musical.

While preparations for the show were happening, Angie munched on her potato casserole happily, with the lights now dimmed, as she told Clara a story, in perfect Italian.

She had previously let Rossi believe she knew just a tiny bit of Italian, but that was surely not the case. That girl was fluent, as if she'd lived in Italy long enough to learn the language. Plus, she was really good with languages, which was one more thing she had in common with both Clara and Emily. All three of them sucked in math and physics, but were extremely gifted when it came to languages…and deceit.

"_C'era una volta_…" Angie started off with the Italian version of 'Once upon a time'.

She then continued, painting a picture of a home, a happy family and a dog. In her story, the family always had dinner together and, if the parents had to be late from work, there would always be someone in the house, to take care of the kids. She mentioned a few games the family liked to play and a few places they'd go on the weekends. She also mentioned a house by the water, but Clara did not catch if it was by a river or a beach.

Then, she quickly moved to talk about the kids dancing all the time and singing whenever they had the chance to. Anywhere. At home, on the streets, at school, in the car, in the shops, anywhere and everywhere they possibly could, the kids would put on a show for whoever was watching. And, if nobody was watching, they'd put on a show for themselves.

"And then they realized…the door was open!" Angie's tone of voice changed completely, now that she was talking about one specific evening, at the house by the water.

Something about the dim lights in Clara's living room allowed for a change in Angie's mood. Slowly, but surely, her happy story took a turn and her bright eyes started to dim a little more, with each word.

"Oh, no! Did the dog escape?" Clara gasped, figuring this was the big drama factor that Angie was going to drop.

"No! But it should have, because it was a dumb dog that was useless anyway."

"Huh?" Clara raised an eyebrow. Who spoke about dogs this way? Generally, people loved dogs.

"Nobody escaped…" Angie's voice went even deeper and the suspense was killing Clara.

What was about to happen? Would the phone ring, like in the scary movies? Angela was damn good at telling stories, it was basically what her entire life had revolved around.

"Someone was in the house…" Angie kept on speaking, all of it being said in Italian.

"No footsteps were heard…"

Clara bit her lips so hard. She did not like scary things, other than her job, of course.

"No sound came out, from anyone…" Angie narrowed her eyes, staring right into Clara's eyes, now that she was practically hovering on top of her, just to make her story more vivid and spooky.

"Ever again!" She added to her previous statement and Clara shuddered.

"Ok, that's enough. Chicago is ready to start…" Clara tried to peel Angie off of her, but the girl would not move.

She kept staring at Clara, with that icy cold glare that had once terrified Section Chief Fowler. She really did seem possessed by something and she did not look like she was in touch with reality, at all, because she did not even register Clara's words.

"Do you know why?" Angie asked, whispering like the creep that she was.

"No and I don't want to know why." Clara gulped. She was done with this story.

"Because whoever came into the house, killed everyone. Every single soul in the house died that night. Every. Single. Soul!" She repeated, slowly, dragged out and with that damn creepy voice that nearly made Clara's heart stop beating.

"Angela, stop…" Clara could not remember a moment in her life when she had felt more uncomfortable.

"Stop…" She repeated, watching Angie hover on top of her, just staring at her with those green eyes, in the dark, piercing through her.

"I'm serious. Jesus Christ, girl, stop it!" Clara then did the colossal mistake of trying to push Angie away.

The mere touch of her fingers, sent Angie into a state she could not help.

Something about her touch – the way her hands pushed Angela away, the way someone dared put their hands on her, made her tick. It triggered an emotional response that she was powerless against. She could not control it, nor prevent it. And then 'sweet little bubblehead' Angie was gone and replaced by a darker version of her.

Her hands grabbed Clara by the shoulders and she just kept on looking at her face. The level of curiosity in her eyes was concerning. It felt like this was the first time Angela had ever laid eyes on Clara and she was trying her hardest to figure her out, by staring at her, like she was her prey.

"The house was full of blood…" Angie continued, keeping her voice low.

"On the walls…on the floor. The kids' room, too. On everything. It was everywhere…"

"I'm begging you, stop it." Clara pleaded. Screw the Fire department, she'd need the Sheriff's Office on speed dial, with this crazy one.

"It was warm and liquid…" Angie continued. She was not hearing Clara's words at all. Even if she did hear her, she was too far gone to be able to stop herself anyway.

"It streaked down their faces in their last moments of life. And they just stood there…helpless…scared…unable to do anything. They were heroes…and yet, they were only human…"

Clara sucked in a breath. Good thing she had prepared a casserole, which did not need to be cut with a knife, because a knife was the last thing she'd want Angela to have access to, at that moment.

"We're only human…we're imperfect…and we are all going to die. Some of us are already dead anyway…" Angie continued and Clara could feel her breath, tickling her nose. _That_ was how close the girl had gotten already.

"And do you know what the dog did?"

"I don't give a crap about the damn dog. Stop!" Clara raised her voice, but it still did not get through to Angela.

"Nothing. That's what it did. Nothing. It just stood there, watching…"

"Dogs have reflexes to protect their owners." Clara finally got Angie to listen.

"No, this dumb ass didn't…" Angie replied.

"And do you know what the dog deserved?" Angie had, somehow, managed to grab the fork in one hand and was now holding it in the air, above Clara's head.

"Holy Jesus, no!" Clara gasped.

With one swift motion she countered Angela, slapping her hand hard enough for the fork to end up on the floor, out of their reach, and then overpowering Angela until she was with her back against the couch and it was now Clara, hovering on top of her instead. Her hands were pinned above her head, just in case.

With that sudden change of pace, Angie snapped out of it and her eyes finally cooled off.

And then she started laughing uncontrollably.

"Oh my God, hahaha, I got you so bad!" She kept chuckling and Clara was now more than confused.

One second, Angela was dancing and singing in the kitchen. Then, she was telling her a beautiful family story, in Italian, before the story turned dark and Angela seemed possessed by the Devil, holding a fork threateningly, over Clara. And then, seconds later, she was laughing at her victory. What the Hell was going on?

"You should have seen your face. Hilarious!" Angie kept on laughing until Clara relaxed and let go of her hands.

"Haha, very funny." Clara said sarcastically. Truth was, for a second there she was afraid for her life.

"Can we watch Chicago in silence now?" Clara asked, wanting nothing more than silence.

"Sure. Although I cannot promise about the silence. I like to sing, like, all the time and everywhere." Angie smiled brightly and it seemed genuine. She was exactly like she always was when Clara had seen her at the Academy – bubbly, smiling and full of life. Maybe she really was a good actress, maybe she just liked putting on a show, like the kids from the story she had just made up.

Angie was quiet for the first five minutes of the musical, before she started muttering the words and singing along, very quietly, as to not disturb Clara while she watched.

Clara, in turn, was watching her phone screen more than the TV. She was having a chat with Emily Prentiss.

_"__Hey, as a profiler, tell me…if someone blacks out and acts like a completely different person, but then snaps back into who they are…does that make them a psychopath?"_ Clara had texted first.

_"__Sociopath, most likely. Although they never really blackout. They know exactly what they are doing and they are conscious. What you're asking me about is most probably 'selective amnesia', which would make more sense in her case."_ Emily texted back immediately, despite the fact that she was still in JJ's company and still having fun and getting even more hammered. She would normally never use her phone in such a moment, but this was an exception. Clara would always be an exception, for Emily.

_"__She flipped a switch, Emily! For a moment I thought she'd hurt me with that fork."_ Cara texted back.

_"__Don't be ridiculous! If you're even half as drunk as I am, this is just the paranoia speaking. Relax and have fun tonight. Both of you need it." _Was Emily trying to get rid of Clara? Or was she creeped out herself and just trying to sound cool about it, while on the inside she was freaking out?

_"__I did have a few glasses, yeah. I guess you're right. She's not a psychopath, sociopath, whatever you want to call it."_ As Clara wrote her reply, she shot a glance at Angie who was innocently singing along with a song, her eyes now fixed on the screen, relaxed and soft.

Emily finally let go of her phone, although she really felt tempted to reply with a: _Yup, you're definitely not a profiler_. But she remained quiet. Some things she'd rather keep to herself.

Clara tried to enjoy the musical, but she could not let go of what had just happened. At some point, she realized Angie was trying to get her attention.

"Hello? Agent Seger?" She snapped her fingers in front of Clara's face.

"Agent Seger? Wow…" Clara laughed. She figured they were way past the formalities.

"May I, please, use your phone? I realize I haven't given Bry-Bry a warning that I'm not coming back home tonight and I don't want him to worry about me." Angie said, with that honey-like voice of hers.

"Sure, I have his number saved from when we were on the case in Cuba." Clara tossed her phone to Angela, without thinking much of it.

She would, one day, regret having done that.

Angie quickly shot a text to Bryan and returned the phone with a smile before she turned her attention back to the musical until the credits started rolling.

"You were awfully quiet for that last part." Clara pointed out.

"Mhm, I didn't want to bother you, so you could enjoy it as well."

"But I do like your singing. You have a beautiful voice. And you're quite good at the dramatic pieces, too." Clara complimented her.

"Why, yes I am, Madam. Yes, I am!" Angie pushed her hair off her shoulders in a very dramatic manner, making Clara laugh.

"Want something for dessert?" Clara suggested. They did have four bags full of snacks, after all, and Clara was tempted to treat herself with some calories.

"No, thank you. I am good. I try not to eat chocolate or any kind of sweets right before bed. I don't sleep well when I'm sugar high." Angie chuckled, remembering a night from the Summer Sports Camp in Philadelphia, right before she joined the Academy, when she had consumed two packs of marshmallows on her own, dipping them in Nutella. Her friend Maggie had refused to join in on that adventure, being an athlete herself. She had to watch her calories and she was strict with what she ate, so that she would always be in good shape. She had been working really hard, for years, and her goal were the Olympics, her discipline: gymnastics. Yes, she was on the Cheer team with Angie, but both of them did cheer just to stay in shape. Neither of them was the airhead type of girl who would fit the cheerleader stereotype that they show in the movies, if that was even true in real life. Angie wouldn't know. She hadn't spent more than a couple of weeks in a row in America, to know enough about American cheerleaders. She had practiced that sport in Europe, as a way to connect to her American routes…and to stay in shape, too.

"Another glass of wine?" Clara offered.

She was now petrified of the thought of having to spend the night, under one roof, with Angela, so her ultimate goal was to get Angela drunk enough to pass out and not wake up until the morning.

"Yes, please." Angie said sweetly. Who was she to say no to wine?

"We should go to bed. I'll go prepare the guest room for you." Clara said, half an hour later, after they had opened the third bottle of wine.

"I'll go leave everything in the dishwasher and check if the door is properly locked. Where are your keys?" Angie asked casually.

"Hanging on the door." Clara called out, already on her way to put fresh sheets on the bed.

"Perfect." Angie smirked, once her hands held the set of keys to Clara's home and also to her car.

"Are you ready?" Clara called out one more time and Angie walked over instantly.

"Yup." She said sweetly, now standing at the door of the guest room.

"Well, this is what I can offer. It's not fancy or colorful, but it is what it is." Clara pointed at the room.

It was all white, which was depressing. At this point, Angie questioned if she'd actually prefer Emily's beige walls to that. Anything would be better than plain white walls, really. There was a large bed in the middle of the room, at least it was not right next to the window. Angie hated windows and bright light. Luckily for her, the shutters were good and she pulled them down instantly, making sure it would be pitch black in the room.

"Aren't you creeped out to sleep in the dark?" Clara asked.

In her line of work, she did not know a single person out of her colleagues, who slept in a pitch dark room. It just was not what an FBI Agent did. The darkness was all around them during their daily jobs, so they all slept with some sort of a light source on.

"I like the dark." Angie pointed out. "Plus, it's not like a psychopath would break in and kill us, right?" She then added, with the tiniest chuckle, escaping her lips.

"Right…" Clara was being paranoid, but that was exactly what she was afraid of. And it scared her to think that said psychopath might already be in her house, smiling at her with those full lips, looking at her with those curious green eyes.

"Goodnight Angela." She said, forcing herself to smile.

"Goodnight, Agent Seger. Thank you for having me in your home tonight." Angie waved at her, noticing how she had laid a set of leggings and a top, for Angie to wear to bed, in case she'd decide to take that evening gown off.

"You're welcome…" Clara said, wishing she could add: _I kind of regret it already_. But she stayed quiet and just left Angela alone in the room, so she could change and finally get knocked out after all the wine.

It surely did not take Clara too long to fall asleep herself. The moment her head hit the pillow, the exhaustion from the long day at work, plus the stress that Angie had caused her earlier, with her little made up story, helped her doze off instantly and deep enough to be unable to wake up by the sound of her neighbors, yelling at each other yet once again.

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**"sweetkid45"** Hehehe, thank you once again :)!

**"rmpcmfan" **Honestly, thank you so much for the super dedication to review _every_ chapter indepth. I know it takes time and effort to put it all to words, but I need you to know that it is greatly appreciated and it makes me smile, each time :)! It is probably obvious by now that I am NOT the type of writer to beg for reviews, but I make it a point to show everyone that I DO appreciate those (obviously hehe) they are flattering and a great way to have feedback, even receive ideas or just to ramble with someone new, online! And we all know I'm the bubbliest kid on the block, lol! Now, my maaany comments to your two reviews, in asterisk list view lol:

* I love the Angie/Emily relationship as well. It's definitely all over the place, that is exactly how I want it to be. You'll now learn the lengths to which Emily would go, for Angela...and all the extra support that she would receive. And yes, Emily never speaks of her undercover past, as she doesn't think anyone on her team could relate, thus understand her emotional damage, but somehow with Angela she opens up more and more about it and it makes her feel good to come out and say certain things out loud, after years of repressed emotional issues. The fact that those words might possibly help Angela out with whatever issues she has, is a huge plus for Emily and a huge reason as to WHY she chose to speak up, finally.

* As for Angela, keep in mind she has a _**MAJOR**_ trauma and about a thousand minor ones, too, so she is absolutely terrified of confiding in anyone. As strong and cool as she comes across, she is actually quite fragile on the inside, quite childlike, quite scared and alone...in need of a human connection, a 'relationship' _**(NOT**_ meant in a sexual way!) that would make her feel happy and fulfilled, wanted, good enough.

* Also yes, I love me some Emily/JJ fun times. And I was planning on Emily to keep Richard a complete secret, from everyone, but I realized that telling JJ about him gives a certain new depth to their (platonic!) relationship. I love how they are together. Also, you just wait for some minor scheming and major 'covering up for the Boss' time, coming from little miss ChayChay :P!

* As for Victor and Richard, they are the male version of Jemily, honestly. And "Annie" or "Am_é_lie, is quite important to the story...whatever her name might be *wink*.

* Hmm, Amanda is perceptive and she has suspected something for a while now, but she knows better than to confront someone about their trauma. And she gave great advice to Angie, also making her realize she was not the right person for Angie to go talk to, even if she wanted to be able to help. As useless as their little pizza night seemed, it actually helped Angela a lot, in the long run. Well, it confused the crap out of her, but it helped her open her eyes to a concept she had been trying to deny for a while now.


End file.
